Chapter 2
MARISOL
The alarm went off at five-thirty, same as always. I fumbled for my phone and silenced it, then lay there for ten seconds I couldn't afford, staring at the water stain on the ceiling.
Three more hours of sleep. That's all I needed. Just three more hours and I could think straight, could handle everything that was piling up around me instead of feeling like I was treading water and about to go under. But the day didn't care what I needed.
I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the kitchen, where I made coffee in the same travel mug I'd been using since high school. The bills were still stacked next to my laptop where I'd left them last night. I didn't let myself look at the total again. It was more than I had.
The online school portal blinked at me from my laptop screen, a reminder of the two overdue assignments I still needed to complete and the discussion board I hadn't posted to in a week. My degree felt like something I’d started in another life, back when I still slept through the night and believed in five-year plans.
Lucas shuffled into the kitchen, his dark hair sticking up all over, eyes half-closed. He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and poured cereal without looking at me.
“Good morning," I said.
"Morning." He hunched over his phone while he ate, his thumb scrolling, scrolling, scrolling. He'd been distant and guarded for weeks. And always on that damn phone.
“Did you get your project finished last night?” I asked, keeping my voice casual.
“What project?”
I clamped a hand to my hip, more than a little frustrated. “The one you said you needed to work on with Derek.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s done.”
“What class is it for?”
He glanced up and frowned before looking back down at his phone. “English.”
That was a lie. I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. But I didn't have time to push. Not this morning. I had to be at the hospital in fifteen minutes, and it took eighteen minutes to get there.
"Just... be careful, okay? And answer your phone when I text.”
He shrugged.
I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or shake him until he talked to me like he used to, before Mom and Dad died and I became the person standing between him and the life he wanted.
Instead, I grabbed my travel mug and my bag. "I might be late tonight. There are leftovers in the fridge."
"Okay."
I left before the guilt could swallow me whole.
Valor Creek Hospital was a disaster before I even clocked in. Cole, the charge nurse, grabbed me the second I stepped onto the floor. "Thank God you're here. We've got overflow from a wreck on Highway 90, Martinez called in sick, and Dr. Trent is on the warpath about something."
Call lights flashed down the hall. A patient in 12 was waiting on pain meds. Someone in 15 was demanding to see a doctor. The waiting room was standing room only.
I didn't break stride. Just dropped my bag in my locker, tied my hair back, and got to work. This, at least, I knew how to do. It was easier to be calm when other people were panicking. Easier to be strong when someone else needed me to be.
By noon, my feet ached and I'd skipped breakfast, but the chaos had settled into something manageable. I stepped outside through the ambulance bay just to breathe air that didn't smell like antiseptic and fear. That's when I saw Caleb.
He was leaning against his truck in the parking lot, arms crossed, looking like he'd walked straight out of some Western I'd watched with my dad as a kid. He had on well-worn boots, a cowboy hat, and—my stomach dropped—a badge clipped to his belt.
I froze.
Something must have happened to Lucas. That was the only thought surging through my head as I walked toward him, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.
"What's wrong?" I demanded. "Is Lucas okay?"
Caleb straightened, his expression unreadable behind a pair of dark shades. "He's fine."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"We need to talk."
"About what?"
He glanced around the parking lot, then gestured toward a bench near the edge of the building. "Not here."
I didn't move. "If Lucas is fine, then—"
"Right now, he's fine," Caleb said, and the emphasis on those two words made my blood run cold.
I followed him to the bench and sat down, my hands knotted in my lap.
Up close, Caleb looked exactly like he had yesterday when he'd fixed my porch light…
solid, steady, and unbearably calm. But when he pulled off his sunglasses and faced me, there was something different in his eyes.
Something that made me feel like the world had shifted and I was the only one who hadn't noticed.
"Your brother's been running packages," he said.
I blinked. "What?"
"For a development company. Red Rock Holdings. They've been using locals to move cash, documents, phones. Lucas got recruited because he needed money."
My mouth went dry. "That's insane."
"He tried to quit. That made him a liability."
"A liability for what?"
A muscled twitched along his jaw. "For keeping quiet about what he saw."
I laughed. "You're telling me my fifteen-year-old brother is mixed up with criminals? That's ridiculous. He wouldn't."
"He did."
"How do you even know—"
"Because that's my job. I work for Lone Star Security. We've been monitoring the situation for the Texas Land Fraud and Environmental Crimes Task Force. Lucas's name came up. So did yours."
The whole world tilted sideways. "Mine?"
"You're leverage, Marisol. If they need Lucas to stay quiet, the easiest way to make that happen is to use you."
I stood, my hands shaking. "This doesn’t make sense. I don't have any idea what you’re talking about. Stuff like this doesn't happen to people like me."
He sighed like he was sorry to have to be the one to bring me up to speed. "It's happening anyway."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he was paranoid, that I didn't need some cowboy with a badge showing up at my job and turning my life upside down. But the look in his eyes stopped me. He believed every word he was saying.
"What do I need to do?" I whispered.
"I've been assigned to protect you."
"Like a bodyguard?"
"Close protection. I'll be monitoring your movements, checking in regularly, making sure no one gets close.
I sat down again before my legs gave out. "For how long?"
"Until the task force has what they need to shut Red Rock down."
“But I have to work. And what about school? And Lucas? I can't just—"
"You don't have to do anything different. I'll stay out of your way as much as I can. But I'll be there. Lucas will have an agent assigned to him too. We’ll keep the two of you safe.”
I looked at him, and something twisted deep inside my chest. He was doing this because it was his job.
Because someone had told him to. Not because he cared.
Except... he'd been fixing things around my house for weeks.
Watching over us in that quiet, unobtrusive way of his.
Maybe this wasn't as sudden as it seemed.
"And if I say no?" I asked.
"Then I'll still be there. But it'll be harder to keep you safe if you're fighting me the whole time.”
I wanted to be angry. Wanted to rage against the unfairness of it all. But all I felt was tired.
“Fine,” I mumbled.
He nodded. "I'll wait until the end of your shift and follow you home."
I wasn’t sure how I made it through the rest of the day.
Lucas didn’t respond to any of my texts and my nerves were shot.
By the time I finally left, it was after dark.
I insisted on driving myself, but I could see Caleb’s truck in my rearview mirror the whole way.
It should have been comforting. Instead, it made my skin crawl.
When I pulled into my driveway, Caleb parked across the street and walked over. He didn't ask permission. Just moved around my property like he was cataloging every detail from the overgrown bushes to the broken trellis.
"Do you always do this?" I asked, hands on my hips like he owed me answers.
"Do what?"
"Make people feel like they're living in a fishbowl."
His mouth twitched but didn’t form a smile. "Only the ones I'm trying to keep alive."
I unlocked my front door and stepped inside. The house suddenly felt exposed. Like someone had pulled back a curtain I hadn't realized was there.
"Lucas isn't home yet.” I glanced at the clock. He should have been home over an hour ago. “I thought you said someone was going to be watching him.”
Caleb's expression didn't change, but he pulled out his phone. “Let me check on it.”
We stood there in my kitchen, the silence stretching out between us.
I should have offered him something to drink.
Should have said thank you. Should have done anything other than stare at the way his shoulders filled the space, the way his presence made the room feel smaller and safer all at once. I was really losing it.
Caleb looked up. “He’s on his way now.”
A few minutes later, the front door slammed open and Lucas stormed in. He stopped when he saw Caleb. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Lucas—" I started.
"Are you spying on us?" Lucas's voice got louder. "You're a cop, aren't you? This is—"
"I'm not a cop," Caleb said, his voice calm and steady.
Then what are you?"
"Someone trying to keep your sister safe."
Lucas's face twisted. "Safe from what?"
"From the people you've been working for."
The color drained from my brother’s face. For a split second, he looked exactly like the scared kid I'd found sitting in the social worker's office last year, the one who'd just lost his parents and didn't know how he was going to get through the day. Then the anger came roaring back.
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know enough."
"Leave us alone."
"Lucas!" I stepped between them, my heart racing. "Stop."
"He's ruining everything!"
"What is he ruining?" I demanded. "What have you been doing?"
Lucas's hands clenched into fists. Then he spun and stormed down the hall. His bedroom door slammed hard enough to rattle the walls.
I stood there, shaking.
"I'm sorry," Caleb said.
"Don't." My voice came out sharper than I meant it to. "Just—don't."
He nodded and moved toward the door. Before he left, he turned back. "I'll be across the street tonight. You'll see my truck. If anything feels off, call me. Any hour."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do."
He pulled the door closed behind him, and I sank into a chair at the kitchen table. I didn't know what my brother had been doing. Didn't know who he'd been talking to, what he'd seen, what kind of danger he'd dragged into our lives. And that terrified me.
Hours later, after a dinner Lucas refused to eat and homework I couldn't focus on, I wandered to the window. Cracking the curtains, I stared at Caleb's truck parked across the street. He was sitting there, just like he said he would be.
I grabbed two bottles of soda and crossed the road before I could talk myself out of it.
He saw me coming and climbed out of the truck.
“I thought you might want something to drink,” I said, handing him one of the bottles.
"Thanks."
We leaned against his back bumper, the night air warm and thick around us. Crickets sang in the grass as stars started to appear in the darkening sky.
"Do you like this job?" I asked.
He took a sip of soda. "I like keeping people alive."
"And you really think we’re in that much danger?"
His eyes met mine, and something passed between us. Something I didn't have a name for, but it made my pulse jump.
"Yes," he said.
Despite everything that had happened that day, the silence felt comfortable. Way more comfortable than it should have. I made myself turn away.
"Goodnight, Caleb."
He lifted his bottle in my direction. “Goodnight, Marisol. Thanks for the drink.”
I went back inside and locked the door behind me. Lucas was asleep, or at least he was pretending to be. I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation we needed to have. But first, sleep.
Passing back through the family room, I decided to leave the lights on. Just in case. Then I went to my bedroom and looked out the window. Caleb's truck was still there. For the first time in a long time, I felt watched. And strangely, impossibly... safe.