Chapter 34
By one p.m., she’d fielded what seemed like an endless stream of phone calls.
Patty. Grace. Sean. A few friends and coworkers.
And Dr. Hansen—for the second time. All checking up on her.
Three neighbors who’d heard about her abduction and rescue on the morning news had also called.
Once word had gotten out about an agent-involved shooting last night, the media had been all over the story, and Tess’s name had been released—something Brian warned her about.
Neither was happy about it, but it would’ve been public record soon anyway.
Thankfully, Frank and Amelia Carbone said they would tell the other neighbors she was okay and not to call her for a few days, giving her time to decompress.
Brian had called about thirty minutes ago to let her know he was on the way to the beach house and would stop to pick up sandwiches for the three of them. The relief she felt knowing he’d be there soon had eased some of her anxiety.
Since the kitchen and bathrooms were now spotless, she’d turned to the laundry—tackling it in between reassuring everyone that she was fine—just to do something normal.
Something mindless. Sheets. Towels. T-shirts.
Familiar fabric beneath her fingers. She focused on the rhythm—shake, smooth, fold. Stack.
The ordinary domesticity of it should have been comforting.
It wasn’t.
Her shoulders stayed tight. Her ears strained for sounds that didn’t belong.
The washing machine suddenly slammed into its high-speed spin cycle. The violent, unbalanced thudding against the metal drum exploded through the quiet.
She screamed.
Not a gasp. Not a startled yelp. A full, raw scream tore out of her before she could stop it, her hands flying up instinctively as her heart slammed against her ribs. The basket tipped, clean clothes spilling across the floor.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway.
“Tess!” Andy burst into the laundry room, eyes wide, chest heaving.
She was already laughing by then—thin and shaky and far too loud. The kind of laugh that didn’t match the situation.
“It’s fine,” she said, lifting the lid of the machine to adjust the load. “I wasn’t paying attention, and the spin cycle caught me off guard.”
Her pulse still thundered in her ears.
Andy’s gaze moved from her face to the jumbled pile on the floor and back again. He didn’t look convinced. Not even a little.
He bent over and tossed the clean clothes back into the basket. “This looks like all my stuff. I’ll fold it.”
Even though she knew some of it would get shoved in wrinkled lumps into his dresser drawers, she didn’t argue. “Thanks.”
The sound of tires in the driveway had her glancing out the room’s small window.
Her shoulders dropped and her heart rate settled when Brian climbed out of his truck, holding a brown paper bag. Behind him, a black-and-white shape launched out of the open driver’s door to join him.
Jinx.
Dan’s lab/pit bull mix barked happily and ran toward the back of the house ahead of Brian.
The sight of the goofy dog brought a smile to Tess’s face—a real one this time.
She followed Andy out to the hallway and kept going toward the living room when he veered into his bedroom with the laundry basket.
When Brian walked through the back door, warm outside air drifted in with him, along with the faint scent of deli meat and fresh bread.
“I brought reinforcements,” he said, jutting his chin toward the enthusiastic canine who rushed past him.
Jinx barreled straight into her legs, nearly knocking her off balance.
She huffed out a surprised breath and dropped to one knee, careful of her ribs, as the dog pressed against her like a living, breathing weighted blanket with fur.
She slid her hands over his sleek coat, and he licked her cheek, tail thumping against the floor in rapid-fire beats.
Brian set the bag on the dining table and watched her for a moment, his gaze steady and assessing.
“How are you holding up?”
She scratched behind Jinx’s ears and didn’t look up right away. “Like someone who jumps at noisy washing machines.”
Brian closed the distance between them and held his hand out to her. “C’mon. Let him calm down for a few minutes before he accidentally hurts you.”
She slipped her fingers into his and let him pull her up.
The movement tugged at her ribs, and she couldn’t stop the small wince, her free hand instinctively pressing against her side.
Brian’s grip tightened immediately, his other hand coming to her waist to steady her.
“Easy. Here I am worried about the mutt hurting you, and I do it by helping you up.”
“I’m fine. Just a twinge now and then.”
“I’m sure it’s more than a twinge. Did you take anything for the pain?”
The ER doctor had told her to take acetaminophen if needed when she refused his offer to prescribe something a little stronger. “Yeah, but that was hours ago. I’ll take some more with lunch.”
Jinx circled them in tight, excited loops, his tail thumping against Brian’s leg and nails clicking against the floor. He gave one last happy bark before suddenly deciding there were more interesting things to be found elsewhere and bolted down the hall toward Andy’s room.
Brian’s hand lingered at her waist. Not possessive. Not claiming. Just there—solid and steady. Although, if she were being honest, she had no issue with him claiming her if he wanted to. Her heart already belonged to him, even before he became her savior.
“I’m not leaving you alone right now. And it’s not just for you—it’s for me, too.
” His voice wasn’t as steady as he probably intended.
“I almost lost you, Tess. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that.
So for the next few days, I’m not letting you out of my sight unless you physically throw me out. ”
The honesty in it undid her.
Emotion hit so fast it stole the air from her lungs. Not control. Not an obligation. Not some overprotective impulse.
Fear.
His.
“Brian—”
He didn’t let her finish. He brushed a kiss across her forehead, then pulled her into a firm, warm embrace. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other settled protectively at her waist, careful of her ribs.
She let herself sink into him.
For the first time since the warehouse, since the blast, since the single gunshot that still echoed in her head, her body stopped bracing for impact.
His heart pounded hard and steady beneath her ear.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and they both shifted automatically.
Jinx trotted into the living room first, nails clicking lightly on the floor. Andy followed a step behind and stopped short when he saw them standing close.
Brian’s hand dropped from her waist, and Tess stepped back, the movement instinctive. Her brother had never seen her being even slightly intimate with a man.
“It’s all good.” Andy lifted one hand slightly, like he was waving off a gnat. His eyes were still rimmed red, but there was a small, awkward determination there now. “You don’t have to do that.”
Tess blinked. “Do what?”
“Pretend you’re not—um—not together.” He rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks pinkened. He might say he wasn’t embarrassed, but clearly he was—at least a little. “I’m not five.”
The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. Brian’s expression softened, but he stayed quiet.
Andy swallowed. “I’m not... weird about it. Okay? After everything...” His gaze flicked to Brian, guilt flashing again. “You saved her.”
Brian’s expression didn’t change. “I wasn’t going to lose her. And I wasn’t going to let you lose her either.”
“I know.” Andy nodded quickly. “I just mean—it’s fine. I’m fine.”
He wasn’t entirely. Tess could still see the weight sitting on his shoulders. But he was trying to ease the tension. Trying not to be another thing she had to worry about.
His phone rang in his hand. He glanced at the screen, and his cheeks flushed even more. “It’s.. uh... It’s Kelle.”
Tess gave him a small, steady smile. “Don’t forget to invite her for pizza tonight.” She doubted that was possible. Her brother evidently had it bad for the girl.
He nodded, strode to the back door, and stepped out onto the porch to take the call, Jinx immediately trailing after him like a self-appointed chaperone.
Brian guided Tess back to the couch. She lowered herself carefully, and he sat beside her, his arm sliding around her shoulders without hesitation. She leaned into him automatically, her body recognizing the shelter of him before her mind fully processed it.
The house was quiet again, but no longer unsettled.
Outside, Jinx barked once—high and happy—followed by the murmur of Andy’s voice on the porch. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.
Brian’s thumb traced slow arcs along her upper arm, back and forth, like he needed the reassurance that she was really there. Then he exhaled—long and controlled, like he’d been holding it in since yesterday.
“I was scared,” he admitted.
She lifted her head to look at him.
His gaze was fixed on the blank TV hanging on the living room wall above the fireplace, his jaw tight, his eyes glassy.
“When that flash-bang went off, and everything went white...” His voice was thick and raspy. “When I pushed through the smoke and saw him with the gun near you...”
The memory punched through her.
The concussive explosion. The blinding burst of light. The ringing in her ears that had swallowed every other sound. Smoke and dust hanging in the air. The gunshot followed by Diego’s body hitting the floor.
Brian swallowed, and his arm tightened around her. “I thought that day I was almost shot was the worst fear I would ever feel.” His voice dropped. “I was wrong.”
Her chest ached for a different reason now.
She hadn’t thought about what it looked like from where he stood—coming through haze and chaos and seeing her on the ground with a gun inches from her head.
Her fingers curled into his shirt. “I thought you might not get there in time.”
“I will always get there in time,” he said quietly. “I love you.”
Her heart stuttered, and the words seemed to hang between them.
“I never thought I’d say those words to a woman who wasn’t family. But you...” His mouth curved faintly. “I didn’t know I was looking for someone until I found you. I can’t imagine my future without you in it. I don’t want to imagine it.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of her before she could stop it. Not disbelief. Just the overwhelming weight of everything settling at once.
“You’re sure?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Completely.”
The certainty in his voice steadied something deep inside her. She lifted her hand and traced the line of his jaw, her fingers brushing over the faint stubble there, memorizing the feel of him. This man. The one who somehow became her safe place.
“I love you too.”
The words didn’t feel dramatic. They weren’t forced, rushed, or born out of chaos, but inevitable and true.
Brian’s gaze searched hers for a long second, like he was in awe of the fact she’d said the words back to him. Then his hand slid to the back of her neck, and he kissed her like a man who understood how close he’d come to losing her—and had no intention of ever standing on that edge again.
His mouth moved against hers with quiet reverence. She melted into him, one hand fisting in his shirt, the other sliding up into his hair. The kiss deepened, warm and unhurried, sealing something that had already been decided long before either of them admitted it out loud.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.
Yesterday, she had been certain her story might end in violence and darkness.
Now, as he cuddled her to him, she rested her cheek against his chest and listened to the steady rhythm beneath her ear, knowing that sound was the beginning of everything that came next.
What lay ahead wasn’t something to survive.
It was something to live.
With him.