Chapter 11
The skiff bumped gently on the dock as Cross tied it off. Moonlight sliced through the trees, casting silver ribbons across the shack’s crooked porch. Drew climbed out stiffly, her legs aching from tension more than the ride. They were back where they’d started.
Goddamn it.
It only made sense to come back after Rick reported that someone was prowling around their potential route.
The idea of the Weasel being out there didn’t seem shocking at all to Cross.
Like he’d expected it. Maybe he had. Maybe she should have.
But she thought they’d have more time before someone came into the bayou and found them.
Much more time. Even if Rodriguez had called the Weasel, how did he find them so quickly?
There were acres and acres of bayou. They could be lost anywhere in it. How did he get so lucky?
Drew paced across the warped porch, arms crossed, jaw tight. Every step made the floor creak, but she didn’t stop. She needed to move. To outrun the pressure building in her chest. She wanted out. Not just out of the bayou.
In the midst of this twisted situation, she was still reeling from the knot of emotion in her belly.
Cross had pulled her in again without even trying.
One minute, they were kissing like they never stopped, the next minute, he was pulling away, treating her like glass.
Like she’d break. She didn’t need his protection—she needed distance.
And maybe a shotgun.
Because the truth she hadn’t let herself think too hard about until now was that she was scared.
Really scared. The Weasel wasn’t a myth.
He was real, and he was close. And while Drew had always prided herself on fearlessness, tonight, she didn’t feel invincible.
Not without Cross beside her—not the way he used to be.
Because Cross wasn’t the same. Neither was she.
She rubbed her arms and stared into the shadows beyond the trees. The swamp was too still again. Watching. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jerking her from her thoughts. McGuire. She hesitated, then picked up. “Hey.”
“Jesus, Drew…” His voice cracked with relief. “You okay?”
“No. Not even a little.” She hadn’t planned on telling McGuire the truth, but even though he’d pissed her off to no end, he was still family, and the sound of his voice made her long for a hug.
There was a long pause. Then: “I’m sorry. For not telling you. About me. About the op. About everything.” He blurted it out like he’d been holding it back forever and couldn’t deal with it any longer.
Her throat tightened. She’d been waiting for this moment for months. Dreaming about yelling at him, cursing him out, maybe even punching him if he ever showed up in person. Instead, all she said was, “I know.”
“You were so pissed,” he said softly. “I heard it in your voice when you left that last message.”
“I was,” she admitted. “I still am, a little. You let me think you were dead, Mac. I mourned you.”
“I know. God, I know. But it was the only way. The mission went sideways, and if anyone thought I was alive, you’d have been in danger too.”
Drew sank down onto the porch steps, tucking her knees to her chest. “But Savvy was allowed to know. Weren’t you afraid of putting her in danger? Or did you think she could handle it and I couldn’t?” She didn’t bother to mask the bitterness creeping into her voice.
“Savvy helped us disappear. I wouldn’t have told her if the circumstances were reversed.
It was never about thinking you couldn’t handle yourself.
I’ve seen you do your job. I have no fears about your ability to take care of yourself.
Ask Cross… He knows how I feel. I’m damn proud of you.
You are amazing, Drew. I just didn’t want to put you in jeopardy.
I couldn’t have handled it if I had done something that brought harm to you. ”
Drew let out a sigh. “Okay, I guess. Just don’t ever fucking do it again, okay? It’s not fair. I can’t handle thinking you’re dead one minute and finding out you’re alive in the next.”
“Fair,” McGuire grunted. “So how are you?”
“Just peachy,” she said, her voice filled with sarcasm. “Who doesn’t want to be holed up in the swamp because a cold-blooded killer is after them, with an ex-boyfriend who dumped them for being too hard to deal with? It’s my dream vacation.”
McGuire chuckled. “When you put it that way, I don’t know what I thought I had to worry about.” His laughter died. “I wanted to kill Cross when I found out he…”
“It’s alright, you can say it; when he dumped me. And yeah, you weren’t the only one.”
“I did get all up in his face about it, but he said some things that just…well, they made sense at the time. I think you should talk to him about it, if you haven’t already.”
Drew’s stomach rolled. She wasn’t going down that road.
“No thanks. I’m not opening that door again.
” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew they were a lie.
The door was already open a crack. She just had to make sure she didn’t let it open further.
It would be too fucking painful to go through all that again.
“I really wish you guys had made it out,” McGuire said in a tight voice.
“Kind of ironic, huh? All that work to keep me out of danger, and I’m in danger anyway because I tried to help Cross. I should’ve known better. If you had just answered your phone.”
“Shit, if I had gotten the call. The deeper into the bayou you go, the spottier the service is. Cross and his group have repeaters at his cabin, but there’s nothing out here.” Regret filled his voice, and Drew instantly felt guilty.
“I probably would’ve come out anyway.” She sighed. “It is what it is, now. I’ll figure a way out.”
“You’ve got Cross,” he said gently.
“Yeah.” Her voice was quiet. “I’ve got Cross.”
Another pause.
“I will help you get out, Drew. I promise. I never wanted you dragged into this life,” he said. “I swear to God, I didn’t. Being under the radar has become a way of life, but I guess I never thought about how it affects you.”
Drew felt hollow. “I believe you. I know you didn’t. Maybe…Maybe going forward, we can figure something out? I mean, provided I don’t get dead by a killer or eaten alive by various swamp creatures.”
McGuire chuckled again. “Deal.” Then he continued in a more serious tone. “I love you, Drew. You’re my little sister. I will come get you right now—just say the word.”
She blinked back tears and stared out into the dark trees. “Don’t.”
“Drew—”
“I forgive you, Mac. But don’t come charging in here guns blazing just to prove a point. We need a plan. You rush in and get killed, and then what? I lose you for real this time?”
He didn’t answer.
“I want out,” she whispered. “But I want to live, too.”
“I’ll make a plan,” he said. “We’ll fix this. I swear.”
“Okay.”
“Stay close to Cross. He’ll keep you safe.”
Her heart twisted. “Sure.” Safe from a killer? Maybe. Safe from him? No freakin’ way. She would never be safe from Cross if she had to be around him. Never. She needed miles of physical distance to be safe from him.
“I’ll call again soon,” he promised. “Be ready.”
She hung up and let the phone fall into her lap.
The swamp bubbled and hissed around her, a slow, ancient symphony of decay and danger.
Behind her, the door creaked open, but she didn’t move.
Didn’t turn. Because if she did, Cross would take one look at her face and open his arms. And, dammit, she would go right into them. She would fall for him all over again.
And she wasn’t sure she’d survive it this time.
The board creaked again behind her, sending a ripple of anticipation down Drew’s spine.
She still didn’t turn. Couldn’t. Her hands clenched in her lap, knuckles white. She told herself to breathe, to hold it together. But she felt him before she heard him. That quiet, magnetic presence, as unmistakable as the heat that lingered between them every time they were in the same room.
“I thought you might want to come inside,” Cross said quietly, voice low and rough. It wasn’t a question. “We need to make a plan…and I’m betting you’re getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.”
She didn’t answer. Just stood, every movement deliberate, careful, as if one wrong move would tip her over the edge she was barely balancing on.
When she turned to face him, the sight of him nearly brought her to her knees.
His shirt was gone. His hair was damp from the shower.
His jeans rode low on his hips, the faint line of a scar she remembered trailing just above the waistband.
His gaze locked on her like a storm front, brewing with things unsaid and years of unfinished business.
“I am so sorry I couldn’t get you out to your brother. I—”
She walked past him into the shack.
He followed. The door clicked shut behind them.
“Drew,” he said. “Can you let me explain?”
She knew he wasn’t talking about tonight. She understood why they came back. No, he was talking about why he’d dumped her.
“Why do I have to let you explain? You had all the time in the world to explain it to me, and you didn’t bother back then. Why should I listen to you now?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I was wrong, okay? I…panicked.”
A snort of laughter burst from her lips. “You? Scared? You’re a fucking Navy SEAL. How the hell were you scared?”
“Fuck, Drew. I was scared of losing you.”
She frowned. “So you dumped me?” She shook her head. “Yeah, no. That makes no sense. Try again. Or better yet, don’t. It doesn’t matter now.”
“It fucking does matter.” His voice was harsh and he moved to stand directly in front of her.
“Whenever I was on an op, it took everything I had to block you out so I could be there for my team. I worried about you all the damn time. You are fearless, out there taking on murderers and thieves without a second thought. Never hesitating, never second-guessing yourself. It was killing me that I couldn’t be here with you to back you up if you needed it. ”