7. River
CHAPTER SEVEN
River
I snapped back to awareness. I’d been asleep. Dreaming of something.
Arrows hitting a target .
Someone had tucked a blanket around me, all the way up to my chin. I doubted it had been Agent Somerton.
My bag was beside me. Laptop on the coffee table where I’d left it. I sat up, rubbing my face, and checked the time. Almost eight hundred hours. I hadn’t meant to nap for that long, but I’d set up notifications on my phone if anyone had opened a door or window in Brynn’s house.
That wasn’t what had woken me. The house was still secure.
But I did smell coffee. Someone was up.
Standing, I tugged on my jeans. I’d stripped down to my tee and boxers to sleep. My gun was tucked beneath the couch, so I grabbed it as I fixed my holster in place.
A furry streak of gray darted past me, and I yelped, falling back onto the couch.
Snickering came from behind me. “You woke Cleo. She doesn’t appreciate that. She’s testy first thing in the morning. ”
I looked back. Charlie was there in a soft-looking top and leggings, a mug of coffee warming her hands.
“So am I.” My sleep schedule had been erratic since my teenage years, but my Navy teammates had known not to speak to me for at least fifteen minutes after I woke up. I needed that time to become my usual upbeat self. Exercising helped, but it would probably be weird if I broke out the calisthenics right now.
“Do you want coffee?” Charlie asked. “Or are you still weird?”
“I’ll take tomato juice, if there is any.”
“Ugh. Gross.” She tilted her head, beckoning me to follow. “I think Brynn has some. Come on.”
This was an improvement over last night. I hoped it meant Charlie was going to be reasonable.
I made a quick detour to the bathroom, then met her in the kitchen. “Where’s your friend?” I asked.
She found a can of tomato juice in Brynn’s pantry and popped the tab, passing it over. “Napping. Brynn kept an eye on things while you were asleep.”
I nodded. That was good. The FBI agent was taking my warnings seriously, even if she didn’t trust me. “Was it you who tucked me in?”
Charlie glanced away and sipped her coffee. “You looked like you needed rest. You have shadows under your eyes.”
“Those are permanent. But thanks for the blanket.” I gulped half the can of juice, ignoring the way she studied me. “Ready to talk more now?”
She groaned. “Can’t I finish my coffee before discussing who wants to kill me?”
“We can talk about something else. Remember that archery bet we had that summer at your parents’ house?”
More groans. “Why on earth are you bringing that up?”
“I was dreaming about it. ”
“It’s embarrassing to recall. I was such a brat that summer.”
“So was I. If we can’t make mistakes as teenagers, when can we make them?”
Charlie smiled a little at that.
“But once we stopped fighting, that was a great summer,” I added. “Maybe the best.”
She set her coffee mug on the counter. Traced a finger around the rim. “Are you trying to make some point about how we should team up? Do you remember how that stupid archery bet turned out? Eventually, yes, we stopped fighting. But we created a mess in the meantime.” She pointed between herself and me. “You and I? We’re not a good combination, River. We don’t work well together.”
“I disagree. We do just fine when we stop keeping score.”
“How eloquent. But I don’t feel like strolling down memory lane with you. I don’t like where it leads.”
“Because of Ross? The breakup?” My gaze strayed to her ring finger on her left hand.
More images flashed through my brain of the few times we’d seen one another in the last decade. Like the day after my brother had put a ring on that finger. Each one of those moments was branded on my memory.
I smiled as if none of it affected me.
Being close to Charlie was like touching a live wire. It could make me feel more in a second than I usually did in a year. And afterward, it tended to leave me feeling burned out on the inside. Raw.
Aching, like some key part of me was missing.
Charlie had clearly followed the path of my eyes. She frowned. “Your brother has nothing to do with this. You’ve always pissed me off plenty on your own. It’s not endearing.”
“Out of all the descriptors people have used for me, endearing has rarely been one of them. ”
She set the ceramic mug roughly on the counter. When she glared that way, she looked so much like her teenage self. Charlie was far more accomplished and sophisticated now, far more beautiful, yet that same fire still ignited in her eyes when she was angry or frustrated.
“I’m making breakfast,” she said tightly. “Do you want eggs?”
“Sure. I’ll help.”
“Feed Cleo. I put some food for her in the fridge.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t test me, River.”
Chuckling, I went to the fridge to find sustenance for the furry beast, who was currently meowing near Charlie’s feet. I opened the container and set it on the floor.
Cleo lifted her tail and showed her butt to me before she deigned to eat.
I pulled up a stool at the island and checked my messages. Nothing new from Cerberus. I sent off a quick encrypted text to the Protectors thread, letting them know I was working on something and I’d let them know more when I could.
Trace:
Do you need backup?
Me:
Not yet. What happened at the party I missed? It must’ve been terrible without me.
Owen:
We were bereft.
Me:
Oh, big word for a small-town sheriff.
As expected, Aiden had proposed. I said congrats and included a few celebratory emojis. My tone was sarcastic—that was what my friends expected of me—but genuinely, I was happy for them and wished I could’ve been there. Domestic bliss would never be the life for me. But I was glad my friends had found it.
“Tell me about Hartley. How’d you wind up there?” Charlie had her back to me as she scrambled the eggs.
I set down my phone. “I came to help a friend from the Agency who was struggling. Wound up deciding to stay.”
“I thought you hated small-town Colorado.”
“Why? I loved our summers growing up.”
She squinted at me over her shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me.” Charlie went back to cooking. “You said the very last summer, when you were seventeen, was the best one. Yet you didn’t care enough to come back.”
That wasn’t true at all. But there was no point in explaining.
“What about Genevieve Blake?” Charlie asked. “You mentioned her. The reporter. She’s a close friend? How did that happen?”
“Are you asking if I’m dating her? I’m not.”
She jabbed at the eggs with her spatula. “I just want to know what you’ve really been doing, since you’re being so secretive about it.”
“Not a secret. Not from you, anyway. I told you I’d explain everything when I had the chance.”
“I’m waiting.”
“And I’m starting. There’s a group I’m part of. The Last Refuge Protectors. That’s what I’ve been doing since leaving the Agency.”
I told her a little about my friends. Our mission. How we found out about Stillwater. For simplicity’s sake, I left out the personal stake we had in the fight. How that organization had indirectly helped abusers like the ones who’d hurt Trace’s wife and Aiden’s fiancée. How a Stillwater henchman had tortured Genevieve .
“So you’re vigilantes.”
“I’m working for causes that I know are righteous, and that’s a far cry from what I used to do overseas. My friends and I have spent months on this investigation of Stillwater. Meanwhile, what has the FBI or anyone else in the state or federal government done to root Stillwater out? Nothing.”
“ I’m trying to do something.”
“I know, Charlie. And that’s probably why Stillwater is targeting you. But there are too many forces working against you, mostly from the darkness. I intend to bring them into the light.”
“You and the Protectors.”
“Exactly.”
“But you didn’t have five minutes to spare, in between all the heroics, to get in touch with me or my mom or any of us? No. I had no idea where you were or how to reach you. You probably didn’t think of us at all. Because we don’t matter to you. Not until you suddenly decide that we’re interesting enough to pay attention to.”
“Wow, that’s quite the stump speech. Were you working on that since last night?”
“Screw you.” She dished up eggs, splatting them onto a plate, then dumping the plate in front of me.
Fuck, I was doing this all wrong.
Charlie started walking out of the kitchen. I jumped up and held onto her arm. “I’m sorry. You know I’m an idiot who can’t control his mouth.”
“Bullshit. You’ve always done and said exactly what you intend, River. Everything is a calculation. I’m sure it made you an excellent government operative.”
“And you’re any different, Madame Lieutenant Governor?”
She yanked her arm away. “What do you want from me? Really? ”
“Isn’t that obvious? I want you to accept my help for once. Let me protect you.”
“How, exactly?”
“Keep you away from Stillwater’s lieutenants. I have contacts who could arrange a safe house.”
“Like the friend you said would watch my condo building?”
“Possibly.” I’d called one of my ex-SEAL buddies, but it had been a last-minute scramble. He hadn’t caught up with her before she’d fled her condo for Brynn’s house. “Meanwhile, I’ll continue working with my sources to find out where this threat is really coming from and how to shut it down.”
“I can’t just vanish. I have meetings today. A major fundraising event tonight for a charity benefiting trafficking victims.”
“Then you definitely need to skip that.”
“What am I supposed to tell the organizer? The donors?”
“Tell them whatever you want. We can come up with a cover story.” Somewhere in the last several moments of rapid-fire conversation, I’d backed her up against the kitchen counter. “I want to nail Stillwater, but more than anything, I care about keeping you safe.”
My hands rested to either side of her, caging her in. Her chest lifted and fell with shallow breaths. In my nose, the smell of breakfast mingled with the more delicate scent of her hair and skin. Soft, herbal. Intoxicating.
This was a different kind of danger. One I’d avoided in the past for reasons I would never admit to her. Things did get chaotic whenever we were together.
She had no idea how much I’d craved it.
“You matter to me,” I said. “You have always mattered to me.” So much more than she’d ever know.
“Why should I believe you? You love swooping in when it’s time to be a hero. But the minute you get bored, you move on.”
“Not true.”
“Then where have you been the last five years? That’s how long it’s been since I last saw you, and that wasn’t exactly a lengthy visit either. You cancelled on me last minute, said you’d call, and never did.”
“You’re refusing my help because I suck at keeping in touch? Isn’t that a little childish considering what’s at stake? Your life is in danger.”
Her eyes went even colder. More distant. “I have resources. I can arrange my own protection. Even if you had kept in touch, you wouldn’t be the right person to play my bodyguard.”
“Because we’re not a good combination?” I asked, borrowing her words from earlier.
“Yes. Would you let me leave now? This room is suffocating.”
“Charlie, don’t do this. If something happens to you…”
“Thanks for passing on the intel. Now you can go back to Hartley and play someone else’s hero. I don’t need you to be mine.”
Reluctantly, I backed off. She slipped past me and disappeared down the hall.
Cleo eyed me sardonically, tail twitching.
“Yeah, I know I screwed up.”
Fuck , I thought. Now what?
Eighteen Years Ag o
“Let’s do this,” Charlie said.
She made sure no one else was shooting, then walked out onto the range to grab her spent arrows so she could start fresh. I went to grab a recurve bow from the shed, ignoring my brother’s disapproving stare. I strung the bow, grabbed a set of arrows, and went back over to meet her.
Charlie didn’t waste time. She lined up her shot on the thirty-yard target. Back straight. Arms lifted, sighting down the shaft of the arrow. She held it at an angle to compensate for the distance, the wind, the natural imbalance in her aim.
Thunk . The metal point slammed into the center ring of the target. She shot twice more. The second went a little wider, but she still wound up with an impressive score.
She turned around with a smirk. “Your turn. Want to warm up? Or is that beneath you?”
I took several warm-up shots, getting a feel for the bow and the conditions. They barely hit the outermost ring of the target.
I rolled my shoulders. “Just getting the hang of it. I’m ready now.”
“You sure?” Charlie was grinning. Ross and the younger girls were watching too.
I lined up my first scored shot. Bam . Then another. Bam . The last. Quick succession.
Silence .
Then cheers erupted from Megan and Cora. “That was amazing!”
“How did you do that?” Charlie hadn’t taken her eyes from my target, where three arrows with blue fins were clustered near the center.
“There’s an archery elective at my school. I signed up. You got better since last year, and so did I.”
She rounded on me. Pink flush in her cheeks, lips parted slightly, eyes wild .
My stomach tightened. Heated. A spark of something equally wild inside me.
“So you took an archery class at your fancy rich-boy school and decided to make me look like an idiot?”
“The bet was your idea.”
“Because I thought—” Her mouth snapped shut.
“Thought I’d lose?”
Her glare was pure murder. She started to turn away. But before she could, I said, “How about this. Another bet. Double or nothing.”
Her head turned. “Terms?”
Ross threw his hands in the air. “You two are ridiculous!”
I walked over to her, closing the distance between us. “Dish duty and I’ll do whatever you want for a whole day if you win. I’ll be your servant.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do I have to do?”
“Let me help you with your positioning. I noticed some things when you were shooting. You did great, but I think you could’ve scored better. You could’ve beaten me.”
For a moment, she said nothing. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Is this a trick? Why would you want to help me?”
“I’m just a good guy like that. If you score better after my suggestions, then you win.” It would be so satisfying to hear her admit that I’d taught her something. She’d have to admit I’d helped her, or she would lose the bet.
“And if your suggestions are crap? Then I lose. How does that make sense?”
“If you lose, then you still have dish duty, but nothing else changes. You have no downside.”
She rolled her eyes. “This bet is dumb. But whatever. I’m in.”
Charlie’s sisters were losing interest. I heard them chattering to themselves. As for my brother, I felt his persistent glare, demanding to know what the heck I was doing.
I had something to prove. But even I wasn’t sure what it was anymore.
Sweat beaded Charlie’s upper lip. Only a few feet separated us, but I stepped even closer. She inhaled and started to move back.
“Aim,” I said softly. “Show me your form.”
She turned away from me. Lifted her arms to nock a fresh arrow and pull the bowstring back.
“Okay. Hold it there.”
Again, I moved toward her. Inches away now. Her back moved as she breathed. I touched her elbow where it jutted out. Her skin was soft. “Lift a little here.” She did as I’d asked. I bumped her shoes with mine, urging her to stand a bit wider. “Back straighter.”
When my fingers touched her lower spine, Charlie made a tiny sound in her throat. Low enough that no one else would have heard it.
Copying her sideways stance, I stood directly behind her. All I could see was Charlie. The tiny hairs on her neck. The freckles of her exposed shoulders beneath her tank top. My shirt brushed hers. Heat flooded my lower belly.
I had never been this close to her before. It wasn’t bad. Not bad at all.
“How does that feel?” My lips were right beside her ear, so I didn’t need to speak up.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Good.”
“Yeah?”
She shifted her head. Looked back at me. Our eyes found each other.
Suddenly, her fingers slipped. Lost contact with the arrow. In a split second, it had flown wide.
Someone screamed .
Fuck .
I sprinted toward Cora. The little girl was on the ground by the ten-yard target. Holding her arm as she cried. I heard Charlie running. Yelling. “Oh my God! Cora! Is she hit?”
Ross was right behind Charlie. “Is Cora okay?”
There was no sign of blood. It looked like the arrow had gone through Cora’s dress. Pinned her to the hay bale behind the target. She must’ve run out onto the range to grab her own arrows. And neither Charlie nor I had noticed. We’d been oblivious to anything but ourselves.
I yanked the arrow free, and Cora scrambled away, clutching at her dress. “She wasn’t hit,” I said. “Just scared. Right?”
But Charlie looked stricken. We both knew what could’ve happened.
“Mom told you to be careful when Cora is out here, Charlotte,” Megan said. “I’m telling!”
“It was an accident.”
Megan led a sobbing Cora toward the house. “It’ll be fine,” I murmured to Charlie. My hand reached out to touch her, and she reared back.
“Leave me alone, River. Just leave me the hell alone.”