Chapter 12 #2
That wasn’t trauma talking. That was real.
And he was going to prove it. To Holloway, to himself, and to Nora.
***
They left for the cabin at three PM, Carson’s truck loaded with groceries and supplies and Nora’s small suitcase.
She was quiet during the drive, watching the scenery change from city to suburbs to forest. Carson glanced at her occasionally, noting the way she kept touching the bandage on her throat, the way her shoulders stayed tense.
“Talk to me,” he said about an hour in. “What are you thinking?”
“That I should feel relieved. Eugene and Dan are in custody. The danger’s over. I can go back to my life.” She turned to look at him. “But I don’t feel relieved. I feel...disconnected. Like I’m watching myself from outside my body.”
“That’s normal. Your brain is protecting you by keeping you numb until you’re ready to process everything.”
“How long does it last?”
“Depends on the person. Days, weeks, sometimes longer.” He reached over and took her hand. “But you’re not going through it alone. I’m here. For as long as you need me.”
“What if I need you forever?”
She’d asked him that last night, and his answer hadn’t changed. “Then forever it is.”
She squeezed his hand. “Your captain thinks this isn’t real, doesn’t he? That I’m just confused because you saved me.”
Carson glanced at her, surprised. “How did you—”
“I could tell by the way he looked at me at the station. Like I was a problem he needed to manage.” She looked down at their joined hands.
“And maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t know the difference between gratitude and love.
Maybe when things settle down, I’ll realize this was all just adrenaline and fear. ”
“Do you believe that?”
“No.” She looked at him. “But I’m scared you might.”
Carson pulled the truck over onto the shoulder of the empty road and put it in park. Then he turned to face her fully.
“Listen to me. I know what this is. I know the difference between a victim clinging to her protector and someone genuinely caring about me. You’re not confused. You’re not imagining this. What we have is real.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because of the way you look at me. The way you challenge me when I’m being an ass. The way you trusted me to shoot around you without hesitation. That’s not gratitude, Nora. That’s trust. That’s partnership. That’s—” He stopped. “That’s love.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so scared of losing this. Of losing you.”
“You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned across the console and kissed her gently. “We’re going to take this slow. We’re going to give you time to heal. And we’re going to figure out together what this looks like when we’re not running from danger.”
“Slow,” she repeated. “I can do slow.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, deeper this time. “Because I plan on keeping you around for a very long time.”
***
The cabin was everything Carson had promised—small, rustic, nestled among pine trees with a view of a pristine lake. The air was cold and clean, and the only sounds were birdsong and wind through the trees.
It was perfect.
Carson carried their bags inside while Nora explored. One bedroom with a large bed and a fireplace. A cozy living room with overstuffed furniture and more books than she could read in a month. A kitchen that was small but functional.
“It’s beautiful,” she said when Carson came up behind her at the window overlooking the lake.
“It is.” But he was looking at her, not the view.
They spent the evening quietly—cooking dinner together, sitting by the fireplace, talking about everything except the case. Nora told him about growing up in foster care, about the homes that were good and the ones that weren’t. About learning to be invisible so she wouldn’t get hurt.
Carson told her about his dad, about the day he was killed and how Carson had promised himself he’d become a cop to honor his memory. About Lily, about the guilt that still ate at him nineteen years later.
“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Nora said softly. “What happened to your sister.”
“Logically, yes. Emotionally?” He shook his head. “I was supposed to be watching her. I was responsible.”
“You were seventeen. A kid yourself.” She moved closer on the couch, taking his hand. “You can’t carry that guilt forever.”
“Says the woman who blames herself for reporting crimes that got people fired.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?” Carson turned to look at her. “We both carry guilt for things that weren’t our fault. Maybe we can help each other let it go.”
“Maybe,” Nora agreed. Then, quieter, “Stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”
“I was planning on it.” He stood and pulled her up with him. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow we can explore the lake, go for a hike if you’re up for it, just...exist without stress.”
They got ready for bed in comfortable silence. When Nora emerged from the bathroom in pajamas, Carson was already in bed, shirtless, reading something on his phone.
She hesitated at the edge of the bed. “Is this okay? Me being here? I don’t want to assume—”
“Nora.” He set down his phone and looked at her. “I want you here. In my bed. In my life. Stop second-guessing that.”
She climbed in beside him, and Carson immediately pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She fit perfectly against him, her head on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear.
“This is nice,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Get some sleep. I’ll be right here.”
For the first time in weeks, Nora felt truly safe. Truly at peace.
And as she drifted off to sleep in Carson’s arms, she let herself believe that maybe—just maybe—this was real.
That the nightmare was over.
That she’d finally found someone worth trusting.
Someone worth loving.
Someone who would stay.
***
Carson held Nora until her breathing evened out and he was certain she was deeply asleep.
Then he allowed himself to think about what Holloway had said. About trauma bonds and the difference between real feelings and gratitude.
But as he looked down at Nora—peaceful in sleep, trusting him to keep her safe—Carson knew this was real.
He’d spent nineteen years avoiding relationships. Avoiding connection. Avoiding the risk of losing someone else he cared about.
But Nora had changed that. Had made him want to risk it. Had made him believe that maybe love was worth the potential pain.
He pressed another kiss to her hair and closed his eyes.
For the first time in years, Carson Black let himself hope for a future that included more than just his job.
A future that included love.
A future that included her.