Chapter 18
The next morning, Jules woke up feeling like a new person. She ran her foot over the cool sheet and stretched with a long, satisfied yawn. She’d finally slept, and it had been the best night’s rest she could remember getting in weeks. Her lips curled into a soft smile as she replayed the incredible kiss she and Brock had shared in the kitchen.
She touched her mouth, remembering the burn of his lips on hers.
Okay … she almost was a goner. Almost.
She wasn’t about to let herself get swept away completely—not yet. Not until this ordeal with Steve Randall was over.
Her thoughts went back to Brock. Things were good, but there were still so many issues they hadn’t talked about. Like what would happen if they got back together for real. If it turned into marriage, would she have to give up her job and move to Coronado Island?
Jules couldn’t imagine not living in Texas. She wasn’t like Zoe, who bolted to California the second she graduated. Jules was rooted here. She loved her job, her quiet bungalow, and the close proximity to her parents. Texas grounded her. Brock, on the other hand, had Trevor. She knew he’d never want to live far from him.
She didn’t expect him to choose her over Trevor. She would never ask that; she just wanted a place in his life.
Could she trust him? She was beginning to think she could. And she did understand now—at least better—why he’d felt the need to protect Trevor at all costs, even if that meant going back into a bad situation.
She pushed back the covers and swung her legs out of bed, grateful that it was Saturday. After everything that had happened this week, a day of rest was a gift. She dressed, fixed her hair and makeup, then padded downstairs.
Brock stood in the center of the living room, phone pressed to his ear. One look at his rigid expression sent a warning ripple through her chest.
“Okay,” Brock said into the phone. “Watch your back and keep me informed.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, we’re all good here.” He glanced at Jules. “I’ll be sure to stay on high alert.”
The phrase hit her like a punch to the gut. High alert? Panic surged through her.
“What’s going on?” she squeaked as he ended the call.
“You’d better sit down.”
Her knees went weak. She crossed the room and sat down in one of the armchairs, bracing herself for whatever was coming.
Brock shoved his phone into his pocket and sat down across from her. “I just got off the phone with Luke. He’s up at Eagle Mountain Lake now.”
She nodded for him to go on, her throat too tight to speak. “Leroy was out there early this morning. He’d been scouring the area and found the green pickup—Steve Randall’s truck—parked in front of a remote cabin.”
A gasp slipped from her throat. She clasped her hands together in her lap, fingernails digging into her palms. “What happened next?” she croaked.
“As soon as Luke heard what was going on, he rushed to Eagle Mountain Lake to meet Leroy. I told Leroy to hang tight, that backup was coming. I then called the police.”
“Did Leroy wait?”
Brock pressed his lips together. She could read the answer in his eyes.
Tears blurred her vision. “What happened?”
“Leroy parked a short distance from the cabin. He hiked in, circled the place, and checked the windows. It looked like no one was inside, so he went in. He sent me a video of the interior.”
Her heart pounded. “What was on it?”
“Pictures,” Brock said grimly. “Dozens of them. Most of them were of you.”
Shivers ran down her spine.
“But there are also pictures of Asher and Dr. Caldwell. All of the surgical staff. Notes. Details about your routines, where you live, when you come and go to work.”
A tremor racked her body. “And then what happened?” she managed.
“We think Steve came back and caught Leroy by surprise. When Luke and the police arrived, the front door was wide open. Leroy had been shot. Steve had fled.”
“Is Leroy … dead?”
“He is.” Regret darkened his eyes.
“No,” she gasped. “No—no, no …” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “This is a nightmare.”
“There’s more,” Brock said grimly. “They found a slew of guns and ammunition, even some assault rifles. Steve’s planning something. And now we know he’s not afraid to kill.” He leaned toward her, urgency sparking in his eyes. “We have to get you to safety.”
“No!”
“What do you mean, no?” Brock’s voice rose. “We need to move—now.”
“I can’t,” she rasped.
“Why not?”
“You can protect me here,” she insisted.
“We’re sitting ducks. That is not a strategy.”
“But what about my coworkers?” Her voice broke. “I can’t just leave them. Knowing they’re in danger …”
He grabbed her hands. “Jules, I have to protect you.”
Her lower lip quivered. “You don’t understand.”
“Help me understand.”
“I can’t abandon them,” she said stubbornly. “They have no idea what’s coming, and I have to warn them.”
“I can’t protect everyone.” Pain lined Brock’s voice. “It’s all I can do to protect you.”
“Alyssa …” Jules choked, removing her hands from his.
He blinked in surprise. “Are you talking about your friend who died in a car accident?”
“It’s my fault.”
He looked at her like she was losing it. “You’re not making any sense.”
“Alyssa had an abusive boyfriend. She found out that she was pregnant and wanted a better life for herself and her child. Even before Alyssa got pregnant, I urged her to leave her boyfriend. She listened to me, even thanked me for giving her the courage to act.” Her voice broke. “If I hadn’t told Alyssa to leave, she wouldn’t have been on the road that day.” Her throat closed. She coughed to open it and managed to suck in a sliver of air. “It’s my fault that she died.”
Tenderness wrenched his expression. “No, it’s not your fault. You tried to help your friend. She died in an accident.”
“I know,” she gulped. “Logically, I know all of this.”
“But?”
She touched her heart. “But in here … it still eats at me.”
“This isn’t about Alyssa. It’s about you. I will protect you,” he vowed. “But you have to work with me.”
She took in a shaky breath. “Is Luke okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Handling things with the police.”
A sudden fear overtook her. “Where’s Nikki?”
“Still upstairs asleep. She was wiped out after the party.”
Jules closed her eyes, relief flooding her.
“We need to go. I have to get you someplace safe.”
“I haven’t agreed to go anywhere,” she shot back. “This is my life, Brock.”
“Steve Randall’s armed and dangerous, and he’s coming for you. He’s even more desperate now that his cabin has been discovered. Desperate people do desperate things. I’m trying to save your life here!”
“He’s coming for all of us,” she hissed. “He’s desperate and unhinged, which is why we need to warn my coworkers.”
They stared at one another in defiance.
“At least let me go to the surgical center Monday morning. I’ll tell them about Leroy. They need to get prepared for what’s coming. I owe them that much.”
“Why don’t you just call them?”
She considered the question. “Maybe I should call Bree and give her a head’s up since she’s the office manager.” Before he could respond, she rushed on. “But I need to tell everyone else in person, so I can look them in the eyes. Otherwise, they’ll think I’m deserting them.” She gave him a meaningful look. “That’s my one and only condition. After that, I’ll go away with you.”
Brock’s jaw flexed. After a few minutes, he nodded. “Okay, you’ll go to work and stay there long enough to warn everyone, and then I’m getting you to safety.”
The idea of leaving her home and her parents filled her with dread. Not to mention her job. “Where will we go?”
“I don’t know. I’ll get in touch with Sutton and see if he can set something up.”
Her stomach knotted. “How long will we stay there?”
“As long as it takes.”
Jules nodded. “Okay. I think I can live with that.”
“ Live being the operative word.”
“Got it.” The room began to spin. She gulped in a breath, feeling like she might pass out.”
Brock began rubbing her back. “Breathe in through your nose,” he encouraged, “and out through your mouth. You can do this. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
To think, she’d felt so good about the day when she got up just a short while ago. And now, everything was spiraling out of control. It seemed to be the way her life was going these days.