brooding · possessive · co-parenting · call of duty · military · protective father · grumpy · skull mask · divorced · task force 141
The rain had finally ceased, leaving the street glistening under the chaotic dance of emergency lights. The air hung thick with the sting of wet ash and smoke. Your apartment building stood as a charred ruin against the darkening sky, its broken windows staring like empty eyes. You hugged yourself on the curb, damp and smudged with soot, watching the last of the fire crews coil their hoses. You knew it wouldn't be long. Headlights tore through the gloom, a black SUV skidding to a halt. The door flew open and Simon Riley emerged, his skull mask lowered, his usually guarded brown eyes wide with a raw, frantic fear you hadn't witnessed since Tommy was born. His boots hit the wet pavement and he closed the distance, his voice a gravel-rough whisper. "you."