Chapter 31 Hannah
Hannah
Pain came first.
Hannah's throat felt like she'd swallowed glass, each breath scraping raw against her lungs. The steady beep of monitors filtered through the fog, along with the sharp scent of antiseptic that meant hospital.
She was alive.
The realization hit slower than it should have, weighted by memories of flames and smoke and certainty that she was going to die in her grandmother's kitchen.
But she hadn't died.
Because Jake had come for her.
The thought brought awareness rushing back.
Hannah's eyes fluttered open. Jake sat slumped in a chair beside her bed, still in his soot-streaked uniform.
Bandages wrapped his right hand and disappeared under his sleeve.
His dark hair was a mess, his jaw shadowed with stubble, exhaustion carved deep in the lines of his face.
But he was here.
He hadn't left.
As if sensing her gaze, Jake's eyes opened. For a moment, they just stared at each other in the quiet darkness. Then his hand reached for hers, hesitating just before touching.
"Hannah." Her name was barely a whisper, like he was afraid speaking too loud might shatter whatever fragile thing hung between them.
She tried to answer, but her throat seized. Immediately, Jake was there with a cup of water, his bandaged hand gentle as he helped her take small sips.
"Easy," he murmured. "Small breaths."
The water was cool against her raw throat. When she could speak, her voice came out rough, unfamiliar. "How long?"
"Twelve hours." His thumb brushed over her knuckles—when had he started holding her hand? "You've been in and out."
Hannah's eyes caught on his bandages, darkened in places with what looked like burn marks. "You're hurt."
Jake's lips curved in a ghost of a smile. "I'm fine."
"Liar." The word slipped out before she could stop it.
But instead of flinching, Jake's expression softened. "Okay, yeah. But I'd do it again." His voice dropped lower, rougher. "I thought—when I saw the flames, when I couldn't find you at first—" He broke off, swallowing hard. "I thought I'd lost you."
Something cracked in Hannah's chest. Because he'd run into fire for her. Because he was still here, holding her hand like she might disappear if he let go. Because maybe some lies were forgivable when balanced against certain truths.
Like the truth of Jake choosing her over his own safety.
Like the truth of him sitting vigil at her bedside for twelve hours.
Like the truth in his eyes right now as he looked at her like she was everything.
When Jake's thumb stroked across her skin, she didn't pull away. Instead, Hannah's fingers tightened around his.
A nurse came and went, checking vitals, adjusting monitors. Hannah barely registered the activity, too focused on the warmth of Jake's hand still wrapped around hers. The simple contact felt like an anchor, keeping her tethered when everything else seemed to be floating away.
"The recipe box?" she asked finally, remembering how tightly she'd clutched it in those final moments.
"Safe." Jake nodded toward the small table beside her bed. "A little smoky, but intact."
Hannah's eyes burned. Such a small thing to risk their lives for. And yet—
"He locked me in." The words came out hollow, the reality of what Michael had done finally sinking in. "He started the fire and made sure I couldn't..."
Jake's hand tightened around hers. "I know." His jaw clenched, something dark and dangerous flashing in his eyes. "The police found the bolt on the back door. And the accelerant pattern—" He broke off, like he couldn't bear to finish the thought.
"You knew he was watching me." It wasn't a question. She remembered all those nights seeing Jake's truck parked across the street, all those "routine checks" that weren't routine at all.
Jake didn't try to deny it. "I couldn't get the FBI or local PD to take it seriously." His free hand curled into a fist. "So I watched him. Every night. Documented everything. But it wasn't enough. I couldn't—" His voice cracked. "I couldn't stop him."
"You saved me."
"I should have done more." The words seemed torn from his chest. "Should have found a way to protect you better. Should have—"
Hannah squeezed his hand, cutting him off. "You ran into a burning building for me."
"I'd do it again." No hesitation. No uncertainty. Just truth, raw and absolute.
"Why?"
Jake's eyes met hers, and the intensity there stole her breath. "You know why."
Hannah's heart monitor betrayed her, beeping faster. "Say it anyway."
"Because I love you." His voice was rough, desperate.
"I've loved you since that first morning you asked me to fix your sink.
Everything else—the investigation, my cover, all of it—that was the lie.
But loving you?" His thumb brushed over her pulse point.
"That was the only real thing I've ever done. "
Hannah's chest felt too tight, her carefully built walls crumbling. Because she believed him. God help her, she believed him.
"I was so angry," she whispered. "When I found out who you really were. What you'd been doing. I thought everything had been fake."
"Not us." Jake lifted their joined hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Never us."
And there it was. The truth she'd been fighting since the moment she'd discovered his badge. The reason she hadn't been able to truly hate him, even when she'd wanted to.
Because some lies were just masks covering deeper truths.
Because some betrayals came wrapped in love that was real.
Because sometimes the heart knew things the mind refused to accept.
Hannah's throat felt tight. "I'm still angry."
"I know." Jake's lips curved slightly. "You can be angry and still let me love you."
Her heart monitor betrayed her again, speeding up. Because that's what she wanted, wasn't it? To stop fighting this. To stop pretending she didn't still feel everything for him.
To stop lying to herself about what was real and what wasn't.
So Hannah did the only thing she could do.
She held on tighter to his hand and whispered, "Okay."
And in that one word was everything—forgiveness and fear and the first fragile threads of trust rebuilding between them.
Jake's breath caught. His eyes searched her face like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Okay?"
Hannah nodded, something warm and certain unfurling in her chest. "Okay."