they’d both gotten back into the car, Ben looked over at Sofia, then frowned when he noticed her expression.
“What?” he said.
“What was that?” she demanded. “I get that Mike is a bit of a jerk, but that doesn’t mean you can push him around like that. There are laws against that sort of thing!”
“I have my reasons,” Ben replied, starting the car again. He pulled out behind Mike’s truck, following him down the road in the direction of the hospital.
“Care to share them?” she retorted. “Because that looked like a flagrant abuse of power. I’m frankly rather surprised that you’d do that to a journalist, especially with another journalist present to corroborate the story.”
“Can’t say too much legally,” he replied. “And I can’t take the chance of it going into one of your articles.” He gestured in the direction of her tablet.
She sighed and turned the tablet upside down. If he had a reason, she’d like to hear it. “All right, you have my word that it’s off the record.”
Ben shrugged. “Let’s just say Mike had it coming.”
“So a personal vendetta?” she clarified.
He eyed her for a moment, then put his attention back on to the road. “You don’t think too much of me, do you? No. I’ve personally arrested Mike Layton three times for beating up his wife.”
Sofia froze. She hadn’t seen that coming. Mike didn’t seem like the type—loud, obnoxious and opinionated, yes, but violent? There was a picture of Mike’s wife on his desk at the office, a slender woman with gentle eyes...
“And you thought—” she started.
“I thought that he was drunk,” he replied with a shrug. “If I can stick him in the drunk tank instead of sending him home to Mavis, then I think that’s a job well done. I really hope he was as far away from Mavis as possible when she broke her wrist, but I have to say, I have my doubts about that. Why she stays with him, I’ll never know.”
Sofia sighed and nodded. “I didn’t know that about Mike.”
She understood Ben’s anger and his desire to make Mike uncomfortable, even for a little while, but that didn’t cover everything for her.
“You’re still playing by your own rules,” she said. “You were like this when we were together—always doing everything your own way. Even if it would only hurt you in the end, you had to have it your way.”
Ben glanced at her, then signaled a turn, still following Mike, as promised. “My way is effective.” A twinkle of humor came into his eyes, and she shook her head.
“You cuffed a man without cause. That isn’t even legal.”
“I had cause,” he retorted. “Just not...immediate. You’re thinking of poor, mistreated Mike. What about Mavis? Mavis knows that all she has to do is mention my name, and her husband backs off. That’s something positive, I’d say. And giving women a safe place to go and a number to call when their husbands get abusive is part of what we’re trying to do with this community watch project. It’s about the community looking out for each other and cops being called right away, not when it’s too late. If the women don’t trust us, all the programs in the world aren’t going to make any difference.”
She had to agree with the results, but she wasn’t convinced of his methods.
“You’ve always done things your own way,” she said after a moment. “And while I get it this time, it’ll catch up with you eventually.”
“You think I’m some kind of rogue cop, dealing out my own version of justice?” he asked, humor edging his tone.
“Yes.” She had to admit that was exactly what she thought. He was the same old Benji Blake, except this version had a badge and a gun. As a teen, she’d found it exciting and alluring, but not now as an adult, and certainly not as a mother.
They were nearing the hospital, and Ben gave his siren one whoop of farewell, then eased past Mike’s truck and kept on their way.
“Sofia, you don’t have to worry about me,” Ben said quietly. “I’m a decent guy.”
She was silent, considering. Was he a decent guy, or was he just an older version of the same rebel he’d always been? If it weren’t for her son in the mix, she wouldn’t have cared so much, but Ben’s character would have a huge impact on Jack. Jack would idealize Ben. He’d look up to him. He’d emulate him, and the last thing she needed was a son who turned out exactly like his father.
“Just keep in mind that I’m a journalist first,” she said with a sigh. “I’m here to write articles that can help improve the public’s perception about the police force, but I’m not going to lie, either. Don’t put me in the position of having to write up a story that sets back your entire project.”
Ben’s jaw tightened. “I’ll have you know that I care about this—more than you probably realize. You lived on the good side of the tracks, but I saw a different side to this town growing up. I’m going to fix that, whatever it takes. So you might have your ideals right now, but I’ve got more than ideals. I’ve got a plan, and I’m not afraid to put it into action.”
Sofia didn’t answer. Ben might be a cop, but she was a journalist, and she had a responsibility to her job as well as to this town. The laws were there for a reason, and she found it ironic that she was now pushing against Benji from the other side of the law. But Ben was like that—rock solid, completely immoveable and always perched right on the line. Some things would never change.
That evening, after dropping Sofia off at her father’s house, Ben drove back to the other side of town where his mother lived. His mind was still chewing over the fact that he was a father, and he didn’t know exactly how to process it all. He’d made plans to have dinner with his mother several days ago, and he didn’t have the heart to break them. Besides, his mom deserved to know about this. A grandson would impact her life, too.
The trailer park was located on the east side of Haggerston, surrounded by a corrugated metal fence that corralled two looping roads, both lined by aging mobile homes. This had been home sweet home when Ben was being raised by his struggling single mother, Shyla Blake. She’d worked two jobs for as long as he could remember, and now that he could afford to pay her rent elsewhere, she downright refused to move.
“I’m fine,” she’d said. “Just fix the heat and get me an air conditioner. It might be humble, but it’s home.”
Ben had to admit that it did feel like home still, in spite of it all. His mother’s time had been monopolized by providing for him, and as a result, Ben had been generally unsupervised for much of his childhood. His mother worked the night shift at the front desk of a local hotel, and she’d call just to check on him. He could remember muting the TV to talk to her for a minute or two before she was noticed by her particularly grumpy boss. She’d done her very best for Ben, and whatever mistakes he’d made growing up certainly hadn’t been her fault.
Ben got out of the squad car,
