Unconditional

by Tyler, Q. B.

  Copyright © 2019 by Q.B. Tyler

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination and used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design: NET Hook & Line Designs

  Editing: Kristen Portillo—Your Editing Lounge

  Interior Formatting: Stacey Blake—Champagne Book Design

  Proofreading: Leslie Middleton

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Playlist

  Dedication

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Bittersweet Surrender Prologue

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Also by Q.B. Tyler

  Halo—Beyonce

  A Drop in the Ocean—Ron Pope

  Love on the Brain—Rihanna

  Run To You—Whitney Houston

  Xo—Beyonce

  Body and Soul—Anita Baker

  Floating—Alina Baraz

  I Wanna Love You Forever—Jessica Simpson

  Because You Loved Me—Celine Dion

  If You Could Only See—Tonic

  Make You Feel My Love—Adele

  Dangerously in Love—Beyonce

  (Everything I Do) I Do It For You—Bryan Adams

  Helium—Sia

  By Your Side—Sade

  Can’t Help Falling in Love—Haley Reinhart

  Turning Page—Sleeping at Last

  All of Me—John Legend

  Blue Jeans—Lana Del Rey

  Stand By Me—Ben E. King

  For the people on my “home team”

  There will never be enough words to explain the love I have for you.

  Ten Years Prior

  PIERCING BLUE EYES FULL OF shock and terror fly open the second I open the closet in her tiny room. I drop to my knees as the wind expels from my lungs and I find myself struggling to breathe. She’s shaking so hard, a pink polka-dotted bunny stuffed in her mouth as she tries to mask her cries. I can practically hear the pounding of her heartbeat slamming against her tiny ribcage. She’s wearing a pair of pink pajamas that I know aren’t keeping her warm on this cold October night and I know if I touch her hand, they’ll be as cold as ice.

  She scoots back further into the closet, bumping into a few pink toys that look older than me in her effort to put space between us. She pushes them toward me in an attempt to deter me from coming closer, so I proceed with caution.

  Holy shit, she was here this whole time?

  My mind goes through a million scenarios, wondering if this young girl was a witness to the devastation just below.

  “No, hey, I’m here to help; I’m a police officer.” I coo at her as I reach a hand out for her. Her skin is pale, but you can’t tell due to how red and blotchy her face is. The only part of her face that isn’t red are her lips which look slightly blue from the arctic temperatures of her bedroom. Her chocolate hair is pulled into two French braids that go down her back and her blue eyes are swimming with tears. She blinks several times as she lets the bunny fall from her mouth.

  “Mama?” Her voice is soft and high pitched and I can hear the tears building in her throat. She must have been hiding because she knew something bad was happening.

  But how much does she know?

  Did she see the tragedy unfold?

  Did she witness her father murder her mother?

  I clear my throat. “Mama isn’t…” I blink my eyes trying to figure out how to explain the gruesome scene downstairs to a terrified child.

  I hear commotion downstairs and I know it’s the fire department, EMTs and officers from all over the state scouring the premises for clues. When homicide-suicide got called in over the radio, everyone reported for duty.

  I’ve been in the police force for just under a year, after getting my Associate’s degree right after high school and spending a year fucking around, wondering what the hell I wanted to do with my life. At twenty-three, I am one of the youngest on the force in Ferrell County inside a small town in Oregon. The town had a few more than three thousand people and it definitely isn’t my scene, having been born and raised in Portland, but this is where they need me.

  “There’s a lot of people downstairs right now…but we’re gonna go,” I whisper softly. “I’m going to take you somewhere safe, alright? Where no one can hurt you.”

  She cranes her neck to try and look behind me and shakes her tiny head one more time. “No.”

  No? She can’t possibly think she can stay here. “Sweetheart.”

  “Madeline.” She corrects me and her angelic voice floats around me again.

  “Is that your name?”

  She nods and pushes something towards me. A book. A small smile finds my face when I recognize the cover. The Eiffel Tower and young girls in two straight lines or however it goes all wearing yellow hats and matching clothes.

  “Like her.” She points. “Mama loves it. She reads to me every night. But you can call me Maddie.”

  I nod again. “Maddie is a pretty name… I’m Cal.”

  “Cal.” Her voice wavers slightly, but after a moment she sticks her hand out. “How do you do?” I chuckle at her politeness before I take her tiny hand that’s as cold as ice and shake it. Her hand squeezes mine and I wonder if it’s because she doesn’t want me to let go or if she’s just trying to warm her hands.

  I hear someone coming up the stairs and it puts me on high alert when I hear them announce themselves. “Stand down,” I growl over my shoulder, knowing that another large man was not what this girl needed to see. I was larger than a number of the guys on the force. At six-four, and in the shape of my life, I was someone most people didn’t want to fuck with. The list of people who showed up to spar with me in the ring at the station has dwindled to practically nothing over the past few months. I’m intimidating enough to a small child, I’m sure.

  “Is there a child?” I hear whispered. “Should we send in Daniels?” I roll my eyes as I think about Officer Aria Daniels. She was the officer who was always called in whenever there were any hostile domestic situations involving children. She hated it.

  “You guys are so sexist!” she would claim with her hands firmly planted on her hips. But kids loved her. They felt safe with her. And that’s all we cared about. That they felt safe.

  “Fine.” I grit out before turning back to Madeline. “A lady is coming. Okay?”

  “Mama?” Her eyes light up as she moves closer to me and peeks her tiny head out of the closet and tries to peer around my body. Her eyes dart to mine as if to say are you lying? Because I’m not amused.

  Even as she’s blinked the majority of the tears from her eyes, her gaze pi
erces mine. They’re so young and innocent. It feels like there’s a vice grip around my heart as I think about her going into the system. Her growing up without her parents—well a mother…because fuck her dad. But her mama. The mama she so desperately loves. “Mama!” She screams, her eyes shut and I wince at the ear-splitting volume of her wail.

  “Maddie… sweetheart… please don’t cry.” I reach out for her slowly and she flinches but she lets me slowly rub her back just as Aria appears in the doorway.

  Objectively, Aria was a knockout with green eyes, dirty blonde hair, and curves that stop men on the street in hopes that she is just celebrating Halloween early, parading around in a uniform that is just a touch too tight. Aria is that hot girl cop fantasy that probably every man and a few women have had when they come into contact with her.

  Except me.

  Not only is Aria a royal pain in my ass who consistently acts like she’s my mother, but she’s been dating my brother for the past few months, and it seems that they are pretty into each other.

  “Oh, you are so sweet.” I hear her soft voice float into the room and then she’s kneeling next to me in front of Madeline. “What’s your name?”

  Her eyebrows furrow slightly and flit to me. She shakes her head before planting her lips firmly together, a sign that I am not talking to you. “We are going to go downstairs now, okay? It’s time to leave. Do you want to ride in a police car? I’ll turn the siren on.” I smile at her, knowing that the bribe usually always worked for children.

  “That’s bad,” she whispers. “The siren on is bad. And it’s loud,” she says as her eyes are trained on me. She puts her hands up and covers her ears.

  “It’s not as bad when you’re in the car” I tell her, and I don’t know why I feel the need to argue with a traumatized seven year old.

  “Is Mama coming too?” she asks, and she scurries back to the closet to grab her book and her bunny.

  “No, sweetheart,” Aria answers and my neck snaps towards her. I shoot a glare at her as if to say why the fuck did you tell her that?

  She shoots me one back as if to say I know what I’m doing.

  As we have this engagement with our eyes, an ear shattering cry fills the room and my head darts over to Maddie, as she falls to her knees in a fit of sobs, her hands covering her face.

  “See what you did,” I growl at Aria.

  “She’s too old for me to lie to her face. I need her to trust me.”

  “Well she hates you,” I growl at her.

  “Oh stop,” she snaps at me before she goes to pick up the small hysterical child whose life, unbeknownst to her, was slowly changing with each passing second.

  Maddie, however, is Not. Fucking. Having. It.

  “GET AWAY!” She swings at Aria and scoots closer to me. “You are not my Mama!” she screams and before I even have a chance to shoot Aria a look what you did glance, Maddie has attached herself to me and wrapped herself around me as best as she could. Her arms and legs are wrapped around my right leg like ivy, with her cheek pressed against my shin. I pull her from me slightly and stand up so I can collect her in my arms properly.

  “I need you to keep those eyes shut until I say, okay?”

  She regards me warily, her eyes studying my face for any answers as to why I would be asking that.

  “Why?” She asks.

  “Please? And then if you’re a big girl, you can have…ice cream?” I’m not sure what I can really entice her with, but I was under the impression that most children could be persuaded to do just about anything for the promise of ice cream.

  “I can’t have ice cream before dinner,” she says as she plays with my badge, her blue eyes staring transfixed by the shininess.

  “We can break the rule just this once.”

  “Okay, deal. Chocolate.” She gives me a smile before squeezing her eyes shut but opens one eye as best as she can. “Don’t forget my bunny and my book…please,” she adds before shutting her eyes again and placing her head on my shoulder.

  “Of course,” I point at the items on the floor and nod at Aria before I head out of the door, a smug grin finding my face that for once Aria didn’t know what was best.

  “Are your eyes closed?” I ask her now. My hand finds the back of her head as I carry her down the stairs and through the living room. Madeline Shaw can’t be a day older than seven; she is so tiny, I’m almost afraid I’ll crush her in my arms as I carry her out of the house. I press her face against my chest, so she doesn’t see the devastation. Her parents lying in pools of their own blood, her mother’s eyes wide with fear, her mouth agape with shock. It’s something right out of a horror film.

  Homicide-Suicide.

  The living room is small, the bare minimum furniture is scattered throughout. An old couch that I’m sure has some type of bed bugs lines one wall. A television that looks older than me and a lounger that is covered in blood, line the others. Blood spatters the left wall and there is a rug in the center of the room that looks like more than a few feet have walked all over it. I rub her back slightly, my heart shattered that this sweet girl had to endure these conditions.

  Is she so frail because she wasn’t being fed?

  Once I get her outside, I tell her she can open her eyes and she does on command, her eyes darting around her front yard. “You don’t have siblings, do you?” I ask, wondering if there was possibly another child hiding. “A brother or sister?”

  “No, just me.” She points at herself proudly. “Are you my big brother!?” Her eyes are wide and filled with excitement and I wish I didn’t have to be the reason the look leaves her face.

  “No…” I laugh at her huge jump to a conclusion. “No, I just…” I look back at the house. Officers from all over Oregon are surrounding it and taking pictures. I step over the bright yellow crime scene police tape just as I hear someone scream, “There’s a child!”

  “Fuck,” I grumble.

  Her mouth drops open and points at me. “You said a bad word,” she whispers. “You have to sit on the naughty step.”

  “I’m a little old for the naughty step,” I argue.

  She furrows her brows together and a smile finds her face. I prepare myself for a sassy as hell response about not ever being too old for the naughty step when a group of people swarm us. Her eyes are scared, and she grips me harder, before pushing her face into my neck again. “Who are they!?” Maddie cries, her fingernails dig into my shoulder and I hold her tighter in my arms.

  “She’s unharmed,” I tell the EMT. She was hiding, but she’s shaken up. Give her some time,” I tell them as I press a hand to her back.

  “We still need to—” one of the EMTs starts.

  “I said she’s fine. Now give me a minute,” I bark at her.

  “You need to let me do my job,” she argues back and I look down at the small child who is still gripping onto me for dear life.

  I pull her back to look at me. “Maddie, sweetheart just go with the nice lady, she’s just going to check you over okay?”

  “No! Don’t leave me!” she wails against my chest and wraps her tiny arms around my neck. She perks her head up, the tears swimming in her eyes and threatening to move down her little face. “Please, I’ll be a good girl!”

  I’ve dealt with children before, and never had I felt the pain of one of them. Never once did I feel a thump in my chest that I couldn’t ignore as the tears fly down her face. I felt bad, of course, but Maddie’s pleas make me want to do something, anything to make them go away. “Just for a minute, okay? I’ll be right here.” One of the EMTs manages to get her out of my grasp and she begins to kick against them in an attempt to get down.

  She reaches both arms towards me. “No…CAL!”

  Present Day

  MY EYES SHOOT OPEN JUST as I hear her scream for me and it takes a second for my heart to slow as I realize that it’s not real. I rub a hand over my face. These nightmares are back in full force. The nightmare that I didn’t get to Maddie in time.

>   That her father took her from me first.

  I sit up in bed as I think about the seven year old that is sleeping down the hall. The seven year old that is now… seventeen.

  When we got to the police station later that day, Maddie stuck to me like glue. She wouldn’t let go of my hand for anything. It remained encased in mine for most of the day, and when they tried to separate her from me to place her with a family for the night, she lost it. She didn’t have any family; she was alone in the world, which meant she would be staying with strangers. She had friends her age, but the parents of her close friends didn’t seem too keen on taking in the orphaned girl with the dead parent complex for any extended period of time.

  Before I could stop myself from speaking the words, I mentioned that she could come home with me. I still remember those huge, blue eyes, the color of the ocean, looking up at me. The fear had been so evident in them it gripped my heart. “You’ll take care of me?” she’d asked, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I meant just for the night.

  Just until Social Services lined someone up.

  Just until she came to terms with the new normalcy of her life.

  She was the kid with the dead parents. The kid that survived the most gruesome and terrible tragedy that this town had ever seen.

  She’d be gone within a week.

  Ten years ago

  We pull up to my townhouse that I’d bought with the savings I had from working my ass off plus a little help from my mom. It wasn’t large, but it was enough space for me. A two bedroom, two and a half bathroom, with a finished basement is plenty of room for me and if I happened to settle down with a wife anytime soon. I look down at the little person who I swear has been gripping my hand for dear life since I met her. She pushes some stray strands out of her face and grips her bunny tighter. “Your house is pretty. I like the flowers.”

  I roll my eyes as I think about my mother planting them to give the house some “warmth.”

  “Pink is my favorite color,” she adds as we move towards the door. I have a small suitcase of her things in my other hand, and as soon as we get inside, my suitable sized house suddenly feels so small with her in it.