Chapter Ten
REID
SHIT. I DON’T feel good about this at all.
This fucking woman has been looking for trouble since she arrived and now, she’s found it.
Those guys know someone saw them, and they probably won’t give up looking until they find out who it is.
I don’t like that at all. Emery and I aren’t exactly friends—colleagues at best—but I can’t in good conscience leave her to figure this one out on her own. God dammit.
After leaving her cottage, I walk back along the trail to my cabin and hop in my truck.
Tate’s opening the marina today, but I’m due down there.
I park at the marina but jog across to Poppy’s for a coffee, already feeling like I’ve been awake for twelve hours.
When I return, Tate’s waiting for me on the dock.
“Yo,” he says, doing a double take. “You don’t look so hot, bro.”
“I’m good,” I say slowly, hesitating. Not because I don’t trust Tate—but because once you say something like this out loud, it doesn’t belong to you anymore.
What happened this morning isn’t the kind of thing you toss around lightly in a town like Tidehaven.
People talk. Stories bend. And if the wrong ears catch wind of it before we know exactly what we’re dealing with, someone innocent could end up paying the price.
Tate suspects as much as I do—I can see it in his eyes when Langford or one of the good old boys comes sniffing around—but suspicion isn’t enough. Not yet. Not when there’s no proof and too many people who know how to make problems disappear around here.
Up until now, I’d been able to live with that caution. Able to keep my distance and watch from the edges.
Until the beautiful, unsuspecting doctor walked straight into the middle of it.
“You sure?” Tate frowns.
“Yep.” I keep it short, and Tate doesn’t press. He’s used to me.
“Morning, fellas.” Colt comes up, putting his arms around both of us. “Beautiful day.”
“Fuck off,” I growl.
“Damn, Morgan, who pissed in your Cheerios?” Colt asks, adjusting the gun holster on his hip.
“Didn’t sleep much last night.” I shrug, hoping that will get these two off my back.
“Do you ever?” Colt asks, appearing genuinely curious.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I was getting better until this damn professor showed up.”
By the looks on their faces, I know already that I said the wrong thing. Now they will be relentless.
“Oh, man, Reid, are you coming out of solitary confinement to bone the new doctor?” Tate asks, looking mighty pleased with himself.
“I still need to get a look at her,” Colt says, pursing his lips and looking in the direction of the research center. “She in? Maybe I ought to introduce myself.”
“She’s sick today,” I say, my voice jagged.
“Well, damn.” Tate’s eyebrows shoot up. “Reid Morgan, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“I don’t,” I snap. “I just saw her this morning.”
“If you say so.” Colt tips his head, studying me. “Bring her by the station and let me meet her.”
“Fat chance.” I smirk, moving down the dock. “I’m going to check the fuel bins.”
MY DAY MOVES at a snail’s pace with nothing distracting enough to take my mind off Emery.
I left her my number but stupidly, I didn’t get hers.
What if whoever was in the marsh this morning knew it was her and she’s not okay right now?
Fuck. Her face flashes in my mind, mud on her cheek, tears in her eyes.
The way she trembled when I first got to her door.
“Come on, Reid, get it together,” I mutter to myself, pacing.
Breathe.
I inhale through my nose for four counts, hold it in, then let it out slowly.
Again. The rhythm settles my pulse, just like it had on ops when everything went sideways.
I have to assess the situation. Emery is safe.
For now. But she saw something she shouldn't have. That makes her a threat—to someone. I don’t know who yet, but I will figure it out.
Around five, I can’t take it anymore, I tell Tate I’m leaving and head out.
But I don’t go home. I stop at The Salty Spoon and grab take-out.
Two burgers, fries, and two rice puddings for dessert.
I stop at Mama T’s and get a six pack of beer.
Then I head straight for Blackbird Cottage. Emery and I are going to make a plan.
IT’S SIX O’CLOCK by the time I knock on her door. She seems surprised to see me.
“Reid.” Her voice is breathy and soft.
“You never called me,” I grind out. “I was concerned.”
“I never left here today,” she admits with a shrug.
I take her in for a moment, blond hair disheveled into some kind of top knot, pieces falling loose around her ears. She’s wearing loose pajama shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. And those fucking glasses—but behind them, red puffy eyes.
“Can I—can I come in? I brought food.” I force a lighthearted smile which immediately catches her off guard. Probably because I don’t give them out often enough.
“I guess.” Emery steps back, holding the door open further. Once I’m inside, she pushes it closed and locks the dead bolt.
I set the food on the table and crack open two beers. Emery sits, picking one up and inspecting the label.
“Low Tide Lager,” she reads. “Local beers are my favorite at home.” She takes a long sip and finishes it with an “ahh” sound.
When she sets it down, I see she drank a third of it in that gulp.
“Are you okay?” I ask, peering at her from my seat across the table.
Emery lets out a laugh that sounds borderline manic.
“Okay? Why wouldn’t I be okay? I just witnessed a murder this morning, that’s all.
No big deal. A dead body is in the bay just behind my house.
Over yonder. But it’s okay. I’m totally cool.
” She picks up the beer and downs another third, slamming the bottle on the table.
I have seen so much death in my time as a SEAL that it stopped shocking me years ago.
You see enough of it, you stop flinching.
But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get in your bones.
You just file it away in the back of your mind like everything else.
Emery’s never seen anything like she saw this morning.
Her reaction is normal. If she wasn’t behaving this way, I’d think it was weird. But I’m not sure what to do for her.
She pauses, eyeing me. I can see it in her eyes she is trying to reconcile how we both saw the same thing this morning, and I barely flinched while she’s over here falling apart.
I busy myself unpacking the burgers. The fries have gone cold but it’s okay.
I put the food in front of us and watch as she takes a bite of her burger, chewing slowly.
The look on her face says, I need to understand you.
So, I swallow and give her something—a piece of me I’d long ago buried.
“The first time I ever saw someone die, I was twenty-two.”
She puts her burger down, going still.
“We were sweeping a compound—intel said weapons, no hostiles. The villagers had cleared out. It should’ve been a ghost town.” My jaw tics as the memory plays out like a movie I’ve seen one too many times.
“A kid—not more than fifteen—came out from behind a curtain holding an AK-47. He could barely hold the thing upright. It could’ve been fear, or a reflex maybe.
I yelled and he flinched firing his weapon.
” I pause, my throat tightening. I work to steady my voice.
“I didn’t pull the trigger on him, my teammate did.
But I saw it happen. Heard it.” I sigh, pushing my plate away.
“Immediately after, I threw up behind a wall, and no one said a word. We kept moving.”
Emery bats at her eye behind her glasses and pushes her plate away too. “But Reid, that was war. What we saw today? That was murder.” Her voice catches and I know she’s right. There’s a difference. I want to reach for her, pull her in close and keep her safe. The feeling overwhelms me.
“Yeah. It was murder. But you were never supposed to see it.” I reach across the table and cover her hand with mine.
The warmth sends a jolt of electricity straight up my arm, and I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve had any human contact.
Too long. But before I can comfort her any further, she pulls her hand back, picking up her beer and chugging the rest of it.
“So, we just do nothing?” she asks, clearly outraged.
“No,” I say, firm but quiet. “We stay alive.” I let that hang in the air for a moment.
“You think justice is found in a courtroom? Maybe in New Jersey but not in small towns like this in rural South Carolina. We don’t even have our own chief, only a deputy chief.
Here, you stir up the wrong hornet’s nest, you don’t get a fair trial.
You disappear. And sometimes the good guys aren’t really the good guys. ”
I know Colt is a good guy. I’ve known him my whole life. But there are people above him that make sure some secrets stay buried, and I know his hands are tied. Emery reaches for another beer, opening it and taking a long pull.
“You want to fight this? Fine. But you don’t do it loudly by running to the cops. You do it smart—quiet. With your head, not your heart.” I pause, letting that sink in.
“I don’t want to fight this. I just want to study the fucking turtles,” Emery growls.
“Here we go again with the turtles.” I sigh. “Just promise me this, Doc,” I say, eyeing her carefully. “Don’t go out before first light again. Not yet. Give it some time.”
“Why do you care so much what happens to me?” Emery frowns, picking at the label on her beer bottle.
The question catches me off guard, pulling at my chest. Why wouldn’t I care?
Why would I want something to happen to her when it could be prevented?
I’d hate myself if something bad happened to her.
But that still doesn’t convey the feeling that has been curdling inside me for the past week as I’ve observed her working at the research center, her cute nose scrunched in concentration. I’m interested in her.
“Because. You matter to me.” I let out a breath. “More than you think.” More than I’m ready for.
Emery swallows, her eyes finding mine. She licks her lips and sucks in a breath. Silence hangs between us for a beat.
“I’m scared.” Her voice is small, and the sadness behind it pulls at me in a way I’m not prepared for. “What if they know who I am?”
I hesitate before answering. It’s possible, especially if they noticed the cottage is occupied now. But I don’t say that to her. “Do you want me to bring you a gun? I have one.”
Emery frowns, shaking her head. “No. I’d never be able to use it.”
“Okay,” I say, cautiously. “Then…”
Emery downs the last of her second beer. “Could you just…maybe stay here? Until I fall asleep.”
Stay here. With her. While she falls asleep. I fight the twitch of my lips. For longer than I care to admit, I haven’t wanted to stay with a woman when there’s nothing in it for me. But I’ll do it for Emery.
“Yeah. I’ll stay.”