Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Brian was still awake, sitting in the dark living room with a beer he hadn't touched, when the backyard flooded with harsh white light. He was on his feet before his brain fully registered what was happening, crossing to the window in three long strides.
The fence line was empty. Just the light cutting through the darkness, illuminating wet grass and the dark shapes of trees beyond. Could be a deer. Could be a raccoon. Could be any of a dozen nocturnal creatures that call these woods home.
The light clicked off.
Brian stood at the window, waiting. His heart was beating harder than it should, adrenaline spiking through his system the way it used to when a call came in. After a full minute of darkness, he let out a breath and turned away.
Then the light flicked on again.
This time, he saw it. A figure at the edge of the property, just where the fence met the tree line. A man, standing motionless, facing the cottage.
Brian didn't think. He moved.
He was out the back door before the light could click off again, crossing the yard in long, ground-eating strides. The wet grass soaked through his socks instantly, but he barely noticed. His focus was locked on the figure by the fence.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Hey, you! Stop right there!"
The figure turned. For one frozen moment, the motion light caught his face: lean features, dark hair, the glint of eyes that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. The same man Tom Cooper had described. The same man Tessa had seen at the fair.
Then he ran.
Brian vaulted the fence without breaking stride, crashing into the underbrush after him. Branches whipped at his arms and face. His bare feet found rocks and roots and God knew what else, but he pushed through, following the sound of the man's retreat through the woods.
It was no use. The man knew these woods better than Brian did, or at least knew them well enough to disappear.
By the time Brian reached the small clearing where the path should have continued, there was nothing.
Just darkness and the sound of his own ragged breathing and the distant call of a night bird, indifferent to human drama.
"Damn it." He stood there, hands on his knees, gulping air. His feet were screaming now, cut and bruised from the chase. But the pain was secondary to the cold fury building in his chest.
Someone was watching her. Someone was coming onto his property in the middle of the night to watch her.
This wasn't nothing. This wasn't a tourist with bad boundaries or a teenager taking shortcuts. This was a threat.
He made his way back through the woods, slower now, picking his path more carefully. When he emerged into the backyard, the motion light had clicked off again, leaving the cottage dark except for the soft glow of the porch light they'd left on.
Tessa was standing on the deck.
She had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her blonde curls loose around her shoulders, wearing the flannel shirt she slept in. Even from across the yard, he could see the tension in her posture, the way she was holding herself together by sheer force of will.
"That was him," she said as he approached. It wasn't a question.
"Yeah." Brian climbed the deck steps, wincing as his cut feet protested. "He got away. Lost him in the woods."
She looked down at his feet and sucked in a breath. "Brian. You're bleeding."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine. Come inside." Her voice had shifted, the fear giving way to something more focused. The doctor emerging. "I need to look at those cuts."
He let her lead him inside, too tired to argue.
She sat him down on the edge of the bathtub and filled the sink with warm water, her movements quick and efficient.
He watched her gather supplies from the medicine cabinet: antiseptic, gauze, and medical tape.
She'd found everything in under a minute, like she'd already catalogued the contents.
She probably had. That was who she was.
"This is going to sting," she said, kneeling in front of him with a cloth soaked in antiseptic.
It did. He hissed through his teeth as she cleaned the cuts, but he didn't pull away. Her hands were steady, her touch gentle despite the necessary roughness of the task.
"You shouldn't have chased him," she said without looking up. "You could have been hurt. Really hurt."
"He was on my property. Watching my house." Watching you, he didn't say, but they both heard it.
"And if he'd had a weapon? If he'd decided to stop running and fight?"
"Then I'd have dealt with it."
She looked up at him then, her green eyes bright with something between anger and fear. "You can't just deal with someone who might be dangerous, Brian. You're not invincible."
"Neither are you." He held her gaze. "And I wasn't going to let him get away without at least trying to stop him."
She was quiet for a moment, her hands stilling on his foot. Then she let out a breath and went back to work, wrapping gauze around the worst of the cuts with practiced precision.
"I'm calling the police tomorrow," he said. "First thing. This has gone beyond suspicious. Someone is stalking you, Tessa. We need it on record."
"I know." Her voice was small. "I was hoping... I don't know what I was hoping. That it would just go away. That I was imagining things."
"You weren't imagining anything." He reached down and caught her hand, stopping her work. "This is real. But we're going to handle it. Together."
She looked up at him, and he saw the fear she'd been hiding beneath the competent doctor exterior. The same fear she'd carried from Chicago, the fear she'd come here to escape.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I brought this to your door. Literally. You were living your quiet life, and I showed up with all my baggage, and now—"
"Stop." He tugged her hand gently, pulling her up from her knees. She rose, and he shifted to make room for her on the edge of the tub beside him. "You didn't bring anything. Whatever this is, whoever this guy is, it's not your fault. You don't get to take the blame for someone else's choices."
"But if I hadn't come here—"
"If you hadn't come here, I'd still be rattling around this cottage alone, pretending that was what I wanted." He turned to face her, their knees touching in the small space. "You showing up was the best accident that ever happened to me."
Her breath caught. "Brian..."
"I mean it." He lifted his hand and brushed a curl back from her face, letting his fingers linger at her temple. "I don't know what this is between us. I don't know where it's going. But I know I'm not sorry you're here. And I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. Not while I'm breathing."
She stared at him, her eyes searching his face for something. Whatever she found there must have been enough, because she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative. A question more than a statement. He answered it by cupping her face in his hands and deepening the contact, letting himself fall into the warmth of her mouth, the sweet pressure of her lips against his.
She tasted like mint toothpaste and something sweeter underneath, something that was purely her.
He pulled her closer, and she came willingly, her hands finding his shoulders, his chest, the back of his neck.
The fear and adrenaline of the night transmuted into something else, something hotter and more urgent.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes bright with want.
"That was..." she started.
"Yeah." He rested his forehead against hers. "It was."
She laughed, a shaky sound that broke some of the tension. "You're a good kisser, Brian Knight."
"I was going to say the same thing about you."
They sat there for a moment, foreheads touching, breathing each other's air. The bathroom was too small and too bright, the edge of the tub uncomfortable beneath them. But Brian didn't want to move. Didn't want to break whatever spell had fallen over them.
"We should lock up," Tessa said finally. "Make sure everything's secure."
"Yeah." He pulled back reluctantly. "And I should check the fence. See if he left any trace this time."
"In the morning," she said firmly. "You're not going back out there tonight. Not with those feet."
He wanted to argue, but she had a point. And honestly, his feet hurt like hell now that the adrenaline was fading. "Fine. Morning."
They moved through the cottage together, checking locks on windows and doors and making sure the motion lights were still functioning. Brian pulled the curtains closed in the living room, blocking any view from outside.
When they reached the hallway where their bedrooms faced each other, they paused. The air between them felt charged, electric with possibility.
"Will you be okay?" he asked. "Alone?"
She hesitated. Then: "Would it be too much to ask if... if you stayed? Just for tonight. I don't want to be alone right now."
He should say no. They'd just had their first kiss; sharing a bed was moving too fast. There were boundaries that made sense, protocols for situations like this.
But she was looking at him with those green eyes, and the fear in them was real, and he knew he couldn't leave her alone. Not tonight.
"Of course," he said. "Whatever you need."
They settled into her bed, still in their clothes, him on top of the covers and her beneath them. It was awkward at first, the negotiation of space, the uncertainty of where to put arms and legs. But eventually she curled into his side, her head on his shoulder, her hand resting over his heart.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Get some sleep." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I've got you."
The motion lights stayed dark for the rest of the night. But Brian didn't sleep, not really. He lay there in the darkness, listening to Tessa's breathing slow into the rhythm of sleep, feeling the weight of her against his side.
He'd told her he wouldn't let anyone hurt her. He'd meant it with every fiber of his being.
Tomorrow, they'd call the police. Tomorrow, they'd start building a case against whoever was doing this. Tomorrow, the real fight would begin.
But tonight, she was safe in his arms. And that was enough.