Chapter 41
For one glorious second, Lark didn’t care about anything except the fact that Cormac was standing in front of her. He had come through that door like some modern-day knight in shining armor. A ridiculously clichéd thought.
She didn’t care. She was in his arms. She was alive. And she was safe. She buried her face against his chest and breathed him in, letting herself believe that the nightmare was finally over.
Then gunfire erupted. Cormac shoved her down. His body covered hers before she even understood what was happening. “Stay down!”
Men poured into the garage. Bad men. And they were armed.
The world became noise. Gunshots cracked through the building. Someone shouted. Glass shattered. Wren screamed.
Cormac kept himself between Lark and the gunfire, one arm wrapped around her while his other hand returned fire. Lark clung to him, terrified but strangely calm beneath the shelter of his body. She trusted him. Completely.
Across the room, Spark dragged Wren behind a stack of crates. “Move!” he shouted. Wren scrambled after him.
Another burst of gunfire erupted. Then silence. Not complete silence. There were groans. Someone shouting for medical supplies. Footsteps pounding across concrete. But the shooting had stopped.
Lark slowly lifted her head. Cormac was still over her. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m okay.”
His eyes searched her face anyway. Only when he was satisfied did he finally move.
The aftermath was brutal. Bradley was down, clutching his leg where a bullet had torn through it. The man from the island lay motionless on the concrete. Two more men were dead.
And Calloway was gone.
Of course he was. Voodoo and Jeeves disappeared after him, following the trail through the trees. They returned later, empty-handed.
“Slippery bastard,” Voodoo muttered.
Lark wasn’t surprised. A man wouldn’t do anything without contingency plans. Somehow, she knew this wasn’t the last she’d hear of Grant Calloway.
The team would deal with him. Eventually.
For now, though, she was alive. Wren was alive. And Cormac was beside her. That was enough.
* * *
The next morning, Lark woke in Cormac’s bed. For a moment she didn’t know where she was. Then she felt the solid warmth of his body behind her. His arm was wrapped around her waist.
She thought about the hours after the rescue, which had passed in a blur of flashing lights, questions, and exhaustion.
Bradley had been taken to the hospital under police guard for the gunshot wound to his leg.
He’d survived, but the evidence against him was substantial.
The investigation into Whitmore Global Holdings had already begun, with federal agents combing through the company’s financial records, shipping manifests, and corporate connections.
Several executives were being pulled in for questioning, accounts had been frozen, and the Whitmore name had gone from respectable to radioactive almost overnight.
Lark still wasn’t sure how she felt about Bradley.
Anger was there. Betrayal, definitely. But beneath it was something harder to name.
He had made terrible choices, and she’d spent years believing he was simply the spoiled, entitled rich kid she’d once dated.
Now she knew there had been fear and coercion involved, but that didn’t erase what he’d done.
Wren had taken the kidnapping especially hard.
She’d been terrified during those first few hours, and Lark was pretty sure she’d struggle with nightmares.
She knew Wren would grapple the most with reconciling the man she thought she knew with the man who had stood in that garage and let them remain tied to chairs.
Her feelings for Bradley hadn’t disappeared, which somehow made the betrayal hurt even more.
She was angry at him, heartbroken over him, and furious with herself for having trusted him so completely.
Part of her still wanted to believe Calloway had trapped him, but another part knew that whatever pressure he’d faced, he’d still made choices that put her—and Lark—in danger.
Lark knew healing wouldn’t happen overnight.
Neither would trust. But she was safe. Wren was safe. And Cormac was beside her. For now, that was enough.
She smiled and rolled over carefully.
Cormac’s eyes opened. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
Neither moved. They simply stared at each other.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he murmured.
“You came after me.”
“Of course I did.” Something in his voice cracked open the last of her defenses.
“I love you.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. “And not just because you rushed in to save me like a knight in shining armor.
Cormac went completely still before his lips twitched into a smile. Then his hand came up to cup her cheek. “I love you too.”
Her eyes filled. She laughed softly. “That’s good.”
“Yeah?”
“Because I was going to be incredibly embarrassed if you didn’t.”
His mouth curved. “I should tell you more often.”
“You’re not exactly known for your communication skills.”
“Occupational hazard.” She laughed. He pulled her closer. Then his expression turned serious. “Move in with me.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Move in with me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Was that a question?”
“No.”
She poked him in the chest. “You’re awfully bossy.”
“I’ve been told.”
“And what makes you think I’m going to agree?”
His arms tightened around her. “Because you love me.”
She smiled. “Arrogant, too.”
“Also been told.”
She kissed him. “Fine.”
His eyebrows rose. “Fine?”
“I’ll move in.” The smile that broke across his face made her heart ache. “But,” she added, “I’m bringing my art supplies.”
“Obviously.”
“And my books.”
“Obviously.”
“And I’m taking over at least one room.”
He kissed her forehead. “Take two. Or better yet, take the whole house.”
She smiled against his chest. “Bossy.”
“Yours.”
Her heart squeezed. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Mine.”
And for the first time in her life, the word didn’t feel like ownership or control. It felt like home.
“Must have coffee,” Cormac said with the urgency of a man experiencing a medical emergency.
Lark blinked at him. “Good morning to you too.”
“Coffee first. Questions later.”
He was already climbing out of bed. She laughed as he grabbed a pair of jeans and tugged them on.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m a SEAL. We’re trained to prioritize.”
“Coffee is a priority?”
“Absolutely.”
Five minutes later, they were on their way to Flour Power Bakery. The moment they walked through the door, Marilyn spotted them. “Oh, look who finally decided to rejoin civilization!”
Lark barely had time to smile before Marilyn wrapped her in a fierce hug. “You scared ten years off my life!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
Cammie hugged her next, nearly squeezing the breath out of her. “You’re never allowed to do that again.”
“I’ll try.”
Hoot muttered, “That’s what she said last time.”
Lark elbowed him. Marilyn pointed at him, her bracelets tinkling. “You keep her out of trouble.”
He glanced at Lark. “I’ll do my best.”
“That’s not reassuring,” Lark said.
A laugh came from a nearby table. Lark turned. Spark was sitting there with a pretty woman who looked enough like him to make the family resemblance obvious. Beside her sat a little girl with enormous eyes and a head full of dark curls.
Spark stood. “Lark, this is my sister, Kali. And this little menace is my niece, Kaia.”
Kaia studied Lark. Very seriously. “You have sad eyes.”
Lark blinked. “I... do?”
Kaia nodded. “But they’re happy now.”
Kali sighed. “Her woo-woo powers are awake again.”
Lark smiled. “Woo-woo powers?”
“Don’t encourage her,” Kali warned.
Kaia leaned closer. “I can tell things.”
Spark groaned. “She thinks she’s psychic.”
“I don’t think it,” Kaia corrected. “I know it.”
Hoot looked amused. “What else do you know?”
Kaia turned those enormous eyes on him. “You’re Uncle Duncan’s friend.”
“That’s right.”
“And you love her.”
The bakery went silent. Lark’s cheeks heated. Spark closed his eyes. “Kaia.”
“What?”
“Maybe don’t announce people’s business.”
“But everybody knows.”
Marilyn snorted. Lark laughed. Kaia’s attention suddenly shifted toward Spark. Then she frowned. “But Uncle Duncan’s life is going to change.”
Spark opened one eye. “Oh, fuck.”
“Language,” Kali scolded.
Kaia ignored them and nodded solemnly. “Something big is coming.”
“What kind of something?” Spark asked warily.
Kaia thought about it. “Science.”
Spark stared at her. “Science?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded with complete certainty. “There’s a lady who knows lots of science, but can’t share what she knows because she’s busy playing hide and seek with someone.”
Nobody laughed this time. Hoot’s amusement vanished. Lark glanced at him. Spark sat very still.
Kaia continued, completely unaware of the sudden tension. “She doesn’t want to be found.”
Kali’s face went pale. “Okay, bubble. That’s enough.”
Kaia shrugged. “I just told you what I saw.”
Spark rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m going to pretend none of this happened.”
Kaia smiled. “You can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s going to find you.”
Spark stared at his niece. “Who?”
Kaia's grin widened. “The science lady.”
Lark exchanged a look with Hoot. Neither of them said a word. But Hoot’s expression told her exactly what he was thinking. After everything they’d uncovered about PSG, a missing scientist was the last thing any of them needed.
And somehow, Lark had the strange feeling that Kaia had just given them their first glimpse of what came next.
“Never a dull moment here,” Cammie stated.
“Small town life at it’s finest,” Lark returned. “Exactly what I love about Bell Creek.” Lark smiled. “There’s just one more thing I need to know to make my life here perfect.”
Cormac tangled a finger in her hair. “What’s that?”
“How did you get the nickname?”
Hoot opened his mouth. Before he could answer, Kaia spoke from across the table. “Because he watches.”
Everyone went quiet. Hoot slowly turned toward his friend’s niece. “What?”
Kaia shrugged as if she’d just stated the obvious. “He watches when everybody else is sleeping.”
Kali gave an exasperated sigh. “Kaia.”
“What? It’s true.”
Lark looked at Hoot. He seemed genuinely unsettled. “That’s not how I got the nickname.”
Kaia tilted her head. “Maybe not the first time.”
A strange silence settled over the table. Lark felt a little shiver run down her arms. “What does that mean?”
Kaia simply smiled. “It means Hoot is good at seeing things other people don’t.”
Spark stared at his niece. “Okay. That’s officially creepy.” Kaia giggled.
Lark looked at Hoot again. For once, he didn't have a smart answer. He just shook his head. “You know,” he murmured, “I think I’m beginning to understand why your mother calls these your woo-woo powers.”
Kaia smiled triumphantly. “I told you.”
Lark laughed softly, though the strange feeling remained. Because there was something about the way Kaia had said it. As if she wasn’t guessing. As if she knew.
She looked around the bakery—the familiar tables, Marilyn bustling behind the counter, Cammie laughing with Kali, Spark pretending his niece hadn’t just unsettled him, and Hoot sitting beside her playing with a strand of her hair.
A few weeks ago, she’d thought she knew exactly what her life was going to look like.
Then she’d gotten stranded on an island.
She’d been kidnapped, discovered secrets she’d never imagined, learned the truth about her family, and fallen hopelessly in love with a Navy SEAL who had somehow turned her carefully guarded life upside down.
She wasn’t the same woman who had first walked into Flour Power and spilled Hoot’s espresso. And she didn’t want to be.
Hoot squeezed her hand. “You okay?”
She looked at him. “Better than okay.”
His mouth curved. “Good.”
She leaned into his shoulder. For the first time, Bell Creek didn’t feel like a place she’d run to. It felt like home. And maybe that was the greatest surprise of all.
She’d spent years believing freedom meant getting far enough away from the people who wanted to control her. Now she understood.
Freedom wasn’t simply leaving. It was choosing where you belonged. And she’d chosen.
Hoot pressed a kiss to her temple. Lark smiled. Whatever came next, she’d face it with him. Together.
She’d spent years trying to escape the life other people had chosen for her. Now she finally had something better—a life she’d chosen for herself, with a man who didn’t ask her to become anyone but the woman she already was.
And somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, she’d found exactly what she’d been searching for. Home wasn’t a place she’d escaped to. It was the person holding her hand.