Chapter 6
Ella
Another thump, followed by a soft scraping sound.
My heart lurched into my throat. I slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Scout, and crept to the bedroom door. The hallway was dark except for the faint glow from the nightlight in Nora’s room.
Jake. Was he still here? I’d left him on the couch after our conversation, but now I couldn’t remember if he’d said he was staying all night or not.
The scraping sound came again, this time from the kitchen. I pressed my back against the wall and inched down the hallway, trying to control my breathing. The floorboard near the bathroom creaked under my weight, and I froze.
Silence.
Then footsteps—too heavy to be Nora’s—moving across the kitchen floor.
I reached for the baseball bat I kept propped against the hall closet. The wood felt solid in my hands, grounding me. I’d never had to use it before, but I’d practiced the swing enough times in my mind.
As I neared the kitchen, I could make out a silhouette moving near the back door. Tall. Broad-shouldered. The figure turned, and moonlight from the window caught his profile.
“Jake?” I whispered, lowering the bat slightly.
He spun around, his hand instinctively going to his waist where a gun might have been. “Jesus, Ella,” he whispered back. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
I set the bat against the wall, my pulse still hammering. “What are you doing?”
He gestured toward the back door. “Thought I heard something outside. Scout was growling in his sleep, so I figured I’d check.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. “At four-thirty in the morning?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” He ran a hand through his hair, which was sticking up in all directions. Even in the dim light, I could see the exhaustion etched into his face. “Sorry. Go back to bed.”
But I was wide awake now, adrenaline coursing through my veins. “Did you see anything out there?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Probably just the wind. Or maybe a deer.”
I moved to the kitchen window and peered out into the darkness. The snowy yard was still, blanketed in moonlight and shadows. “I don’t like this,” I murmured.
Jake came to stand beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Me neither.”
We stood there for a moment, scanning the darkness together. His presence was reassuring, solid—like having a fortress at my back.
“I should check on Nora,” I said finally.
Jake nodded. “I’ll make some coffee. Don’t think either of us is going back to sleep.”
Nora was still sound asleep, one arm flung over her head, the other clutching her stuffed fox. I tucked the blanket more securely around her and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. She didn’t stir.
When I returned to the kitchen, Jake had two mugs of coffee waiting for me. He’d found the cream and sugar without asking. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, grateful for something to hold onto.
“Thanks for staying,” I said quietly.
He shrugged. “Not like I had better plans.”
A small smile tugged at my lips despite everything. “Hot date canceled on you?”
“Something like that.” His eyes met mine over the rim of his mug, and for a second, I glimpsed something vulnerable there before he looked away.
The coffee was strong, almost bitter, exactly how I needed it. “About last night, what I didn’t tell you—”
“You don’t owe me explanations,” he cut in.
“I know. It’s complicated, but I want to tell you.” I took a deep breath. “Tomas MacGallan was my father, but he didn’t raise me. When Tomas found out my mother had died, he took me from my stepfather. I’d been living in a cottage in Ireland since I was three with a couple that Tomas trusted.”
“Wow. That’s a lot. But why would he do that?”
“He said it was to protect me from my stepfather, Alexei Petrova, the Russian mob boss. Apparently, after he discovered my mother’s affair with Tomas, he wanted revenge. Wanted control of the MacGallan fortune through me.”
“How?” he asks.
“By forcing a marriage between me and his son, Mikhail.” I twist my hands together, remembering. “A business merger of sorts, with me as the commodity.”
His eyes grew large. “He wanted you to marry your stepbrother?”
I nod. “Yes, as soon as he found out I wasn’t his daughter, he arranged for us to be married. I was two years old.”
“So, if you didn’t know Mikhail while growing up, how is he Nora’s father?”
“I was allowed one outing a month. Tomas had sent me to an art exhibit in Dublin, and it just so happened that Mikhail was there. I was young and stupid. He was charming, dangerous—everything a twenty-six-year-old thinks she wants. I didn’t know about the family connection until I was already pregnant with Nora. ”
Jake’s face was unreadable when he said, “You were in love with him.”
“I was until I found out his true motive.”
“Which was?”
“I had my bags packed for Cyprus, where his yacht was docked. We were supposed to elope the next day.” My fingers curl tighter around the mug.
“That night, I got up for water and heard him in the study. The door was cracked open. He was speaking to his father in Russian—a language he thought I couldn’t understand.
He said the plan was working perfectly. That after the wedding, once the baby was born, they’d finally have what they needed to control Tomas.
Then he laughed and called me...” I swallow hard, the words still raw years later, “...the perfect little fool they’d always known I would be. ”
“Jesus Christ. So you ran,” Jake said softly.
I nodded. “I called Tomas, and he extracted me from Ireland and brought me to Wolf Creek. I thought we were safe.” I laughed, but it came out brittle. “Dumb of me, right?”
“No,” Jake said firmly. “Not stupid. Brave.”
Something warm unfurled in my chest at his words. “I just wanted her to have a normal life. To grow up without looking over her shoulder.”
“She will,” he said, with such conviction that I almost believed him.
“There’s more. I’ve never told anyone this before,” I whispered, staring into my coffee. The liquid rippled with my trembling hands. “Two months after we moved here, I had Helen watch Nora for me while I went to Cyprus myself.”
Jake’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he remained silent, waiting.
“I planted explosives on Mikhail’s yacht.” The words hung between us, heavy as stones. “I knew his schedule. I knew when he’d be on board. I set the timer for a week out and walked away. I never grew up in the life of a mob family, but it’s in my blood, I guess.”
I forced myself to meet Jake’s eyes. His face remained carefully neutral, but I saw the subtle tightening of his jaw.
“So what was Tomas MacGallan? The leader of the Irish mob?”
I nod. “He was. Now it’s more of a family thing with Declan being the one mostly in control.”
He chuckled. “How does that not surprise me?”
“He certainly fits the bill. But anyway, the explosion made international news. ‘Russian billionaire’s son killed in yacht blast.’ They called it a gas leak, but I knew better.
” I set my mug down before I could drop it.
“But here’s the thing—I’ve never been certain it was actually him who died that day. ”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked, his voice low.
“Mikhail always traveled with a personal servant. An older man named Vassily, who had looked after him since childhood. They were similar in build, similar in height.” My throat constricted around the words.
“The body they recovered was... unrecognizable. Dental records confirmed it was Mikhail, but dental records can be falsified when you have enough money and power.”
Jake leaned forward. “You think he survived?”
“I think it’s possible. And if I’m right—if that was him at the tree lighting—then he’s been tracking me all this time, waiting for the perfect moment.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “He would want revenge. Not just for running, but for trying to kill him.”
“Did Tomas know? About what you did?”
I shook my head. “No one knows. I’ve carried this alone for eight years.”
The kitchen fell silent except for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Dawn was beginning to break, pale light seeping through the windows.
“I don’t regret it,” I said finally. “I’d do anything to protect my daughter. But now she’s in danger again.”
Jake reached across the table and took my hand. His palm was rough, calloused from years of ranch work, but his touch was surprisingly gentle.
“You’re not alone in this anymore,” he said.
I wanted to believe him. But I’d been fighting this battle for so long, I wasn’t sure I remembered how to let someone else shoulder part of the weight.
The floorboards creaked behind us. We both turned to see Nora standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.
“Mom? Why are you up?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.
I quickly wiped my eyes and forced a smile. “Just couldn’t sleep, sweetie. Want some hot chocolate?”
She nodded, then spotted Jake. A tiny frown creased her forehead. “You’re still here.”
“Just keeping an eye on things,” he said easily.
Nora padded over to the table and climbed into my lap, still half-asleep. I wrapped my arms around her small body, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of her hair.
Over her head, Jake mouthed, “We’ll figure this out.”
I nodded, hoping he was right. Because if Mikhail was alive—if he’d found us—I wasn’t sure I had any more tricks left to keep us safe.
∞∞∞
The morning unfolded with forced normalcy. I made breakfast while Jake checked the perimeter of the house one more time before leaving. He promised to return that evening with the security equipment he’d mentioned.
As I drove Nora to school, I kept checking the rearview mirror, scanning for unfamiliar vehicles or faces. The school parking lot seemed ordinary enough—harried parents dropping off children, teachers greeting students at the entrance.
I knelt to Nora’s level before she went inside. “Remember what we talked about? You stay with your teacher or the playground monitors at all times. No wandering off.”
She rolled her eyes with the supreme confidence of a child who believes nothing bad could ever happen to her. “I know, Mom.”
“And if anyone you don’t know tries to talk to you—”
“Scream really loud and find a grown-up I trust,” she recited. “Can I go now? Emily’s waiting.”
I hugged her tightly, probably too tightly, from the way she squirmed. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” she mumbled, already distracted by the prospect of seeing her friends.
I watched until she disappeared inside the building, then sat in my car for several minutes, trying to calm my racing heart. The confession to Jake had left me feeling oddly lighter, as if sharing the burden had somehow made it more bearable. But it had also made everything more real.