Chapter 28
Rachel
My phone keeps buzzing with news alerts.
Breaking: arrest made in Millbrook Falls arson case.
Grandson arrested for targeting elderly woman in fire spree.
Ryan Williams, 30, Caught Attempting Fourth Arson.
I’m sitting on the couch, refreshing the local news website every thirty seconds, watching the story unfold in real time.
There’s video footage of Ryan being walked to a police car in handcuffs.
He’s not fighting. Just staring straight ahead with this blank expression, like he can’t believe he got caught.
Dorothy’s house—well, her niece’s house—is lit up in the background with police lights and crime scene tape. Investigators moving in and out.
And I’m here. Safe. Fifteen miles away. Watching it all happen on a screen.
Marco told me to stay home. Said there was no reason for me to be there, that I’d already been through enough trauma without adding “watching your friend’s grandson get arrested” to the list.
He was right. Even seeing the footage online makes my chest tight.
But I can’t stop watching.
Tommy’s asleep upstairs. Cole and Theo are still at the station.
Which means it’s just me and my laptop and the news cycle that’s finally, finally on my side for once.
Rachel Morgan, previously present at all three fire scenes, has been cleared of any involvement. Sources confirm she was an unintended witness whose presence at the fires was purely coincidental.
Purely coincidental. Unlucky timing. Wrong place, wrong time.
Not cursed. Not an attention seeker. Not attracting danger.
The front door opens. Marco walks in looking exhausted but satisfied. His shirt’s wrinkled, badge still clipped to his belt, and there’s this edge of triumph in his expression that I’ve never seen before.
“It’s done,” he says. “Ryan confessed. To all three fires.”
I close the laptop and stand up. “He confessed?”
“Took about two hours of interrogation, but yeah. He laid it all out.” Marco drops his keys on the counter. “Café fire was meant to kill Dorothy during her Tuesday evening routine. The library fire targeted her volunteer shift. His own house was desperation—he’d run out of patience.”
“Derek can’t use the fires against me anymore.”
“No. He can’t. Your custody case just got a lot stronger.” Marco leans back, finally relaxing. “It’s over, Rachel. Actually over.”
I should feel happy, but I also feel exhausted. Like I’ve been holding my breath for three weeks and finally exhaled, but don’t quite remember how to breathe normally yet.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For catching him. For protecting us. For—for everything.”
“That’s my job.”
“It’s more than that. You went above and beyond. All three of you did.” I look at him. Really look at him. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
“You don’t need to repay us.”
“I want to.” I reach out and take his hand. “I need you to know that you saved my life. Multiple times. You, Cole, and Theo. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
His eyes darken slightly. “Rachel—”
“I mean it. You made me feel safe when I thought I’d never feel safe again. You—”
He kisses me.
Not gentle. Not tentative. Just his mouth on mine and his hand sliding into my hair, and everything I was going to say dissolving into nothing.
I kiss him back, pulling him closer, needing this connection with him like I need air.
He tastes different from Cole and Theo. More intense. More controlled but desperate underneath. Like he’s been holding back forever and finally letting himself have what he wants.
His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him. I shift onto his lap, straddling him, and his grip tightens.
“Rachel,” he murmurs against my mouth. “We should—”
“Don’t stop.” I kiss him again, deeper this time. “Please don’t stop.”
His hands slide under my shirt, fingers tracing up my sides. The touch sends electricity through me. I arch into him, wanting more, needing—
His phone rings.
We both freeze.
“Ignore it,” I whisper.
It keeps ringing.
Marco pulls back slightly, breathing hard. “I can’t. That’s the office ringtone.”
“Marco—”
“I have to take this.” He lifts me gently off his lap and answers the phone. “Reyes.”
I can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I watch his expression shift from frustrated to professional.
“Yeah. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He hangs up. “I have to go back to the station. Ryan’s lawyer showed up, and there are some procedural things I need to handle.”
“Now?”
“Now.” He stands up, adjusting his shirt. “I’m sorry. Terrible timing.”
“Understatement of the year.”
He cups my face, kissing me once more. “We’ll finish this later. I promise.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone on the couch, still catching my breath, trying to process what just happened.
Marco kissed me.
Marco, who's been distant and professional this entire time, just kissed me like I was the only thing that mattered.
I touch my lips, still feeling the pressure of his mouth on mine.
Three men. I've now been intimate with all three of them in some way. And instead of feeling guilty or confused, I feel—
No. I can't think about this right now. I need to call Jake. He needs to know they caught Ryan.
I pull out my phone and dial his number.
He answers on the second ring. "Rachel? Everything okay?"
"They caught him. The arsonist. It was Dorothy's grandson, Ryan."
"What?" There's a pause, then his voice comes back louder. "Are you serious? When did this happen?"
"This morning. Marco just left. They set a trap and caught Ryan trying to set another fire at Dorothy's temporary housing."
"This is incredible! You're safe! Tommy's safe! Derek's custody case is dead in the water!" Jake's excitement is infectious. "I'm coming home for a break in two weeks. The research team is taking a scheduled pause, and I want to see you and Tommy. Make sure you're really okay."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to. I'll text you my flight info."
We talked for another ten minutes. Jake's relief is overwhelming.
When he hangs up, the house is quiet again.
I sit in the silence, phone in my hand, and let myself feel everything I’ve been pushing down.
I can’t stay here forever. This was temporary. Emergency housing while someone was trying to kill me. Now that the threat’s gone, I should move out. Find my own place. Get back to being an independent single mother who doesn’t need three men to take care of her.
Except I don’t want to leave.
I want to stay. Want to wake up to Cole making breakfast, Theo’s terrible jokes, and Marco’s quiet presence. Want to feel safe in a way I’ve never felt safe before.
Want to be with all three of them, even though I have no idea how that’s supposed to work in the real world.
What does that make me? Greedy? Selfish? Someone who can’t choose because she wants everything.
Three men. Three incredibly possessive men who’ve made it clear they care about me. Who look at me like I’m theirs. Who’ve built this bubble around Tommy and me where nothing can hurt us.
But bubbles burst. Real life intrudes. And real life means people will judge. Will whisper. Will call me names I don’t want to hear.
I press my hands over my face.
The fires are over. I’m safe. Tommy’s safe. Derek’s custody case is falling apart.
Everything should feel perfect.
So why do I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something petrifying with no idea how to move forward?