3. Blaze
BLAZE
Something was wrong.
I felt it before I even stepped inside the Last Stand Tavern.
Maybe it was the way the hairs on the back of my neck refused to settle.
Maybe it was the look Trigger gave me the second I walked through the door.
Or maybe it was because I couldn’t stop seeing Felicity standing outside that café pretending she had no idea who I was while her eyes quietly betrayed her every second.
“You look terrible,” Trigger said from behind the bar.
I tossed my truck keys onto the counter. “Appreciate the support.”
“You look like somebody kicked your dog.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
“Exactly. That’s how bad it is.”
I ignored him and grabbed the coffee pot sitting near the register.
The tavern was quieter than usual for late afternoon.
A couple locals sat near the far wall watching a baseball game. Country music hummed low through the speakers. The familiar scent of burgers, beer, and wood smoke wrapped around me like muscle memory.
Usually, this place settled me.
Today?
Not happening.
Trigger leaned his forearms on the counter and studied me. “So who was she?”
I paused mid-pour.
Damn it.
“How do you know there was a she?”
“You shut your comm off in the middle of a conversation.” He pointed toward my face. “And you’ve had that expression ever since.”
“What expression?”
“The one that says your past just punched you in the throat.”
I exhaled slowly and set the coffee pot down.
“Remember the girl I told you about?”
Trigger blinked once.
Then his entire expression changed.
“Oh.”
Yeah.
Oh.
“She’s here,” I said quietly.
“In Eagle River?”
I nodded once.
“That’s impossible.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Trigger whistled low beneath his breath. “And?”
“And she acted like she didn’t know me.”
He frowned immediately. “You sure it was her?”
“Positive.”
“What’d she say?”
“That I had the wrong person.”
“And you believe that?”
“No.”
Too fast.
Too certain.
Because I’d seen it.
That flicker in her eyes when I said my name.
That tiny crack in the mask.
She knew me.
Or at least some part of her did.
Trigger watched me carefully. “You okay?”
Not even close.
But before I could answer, the front door opened.
Cold instinct hit me instantly.
The woman stepping inside wore jeans, boots, and a dark sweatshirt pulled low despite the Texas heat. Her head stayed slightly down like she didn’t want attention.
But I knew her anyway.
Hell, I’d probably know her in a crowded stadium after fifty years.
Felicity.
My entire body went still.
She looked up.
And there it was again.
That tiny hesitation.
Like seeing me hurt her too.
Trigger glanced between us slowly. “Well,” he muttered. “This feels healthy.”
I ignored him.
Felicity looked pale now. Paler than before.
And scared.
Not uncomfortable.
Not awkward.
Scared.
That changed everything.
Every Ranger instinct inside me snapped awake instantly.
I moved around the bar before I even realized I was doing it.
“You okay?”
Her throat moved when she swallowed.
“Agent Jones told me to come here.”
My eyes narrowed immediately. “FBI?”
Trigger straightened behind me.
Felicity glanced toward the windows before lowering her voice. “Can we not do this in front of everyone?”
That fear in her voice wasn’t fake.
Not even a little.
I stepped closer automatically, lowering my voice too. “What happened?”
She hesitated.
Then quietly said, “There was a package on my porch.”
Ice slid through my chest.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“You touch it?”
“No.”
Thank God.
The thought came fast and dangerous.
Because relief hit me harder than it should have.
Trigger’s expression sharpened immediately. “You think it’s connected?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But Michael told me to leave.”
Michael.
Not Agent Jones.
Michael.
Meaning she trusted him.
Meaning this had been going on for a while.
I glanced toward the windows myself now.
Parking lot.
Street.
Vehicles.
Movement.
Habit.
Training.
“You being followed?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
Think.
Not know.
Didn’t like that.
Not one damn bit.
“Okay,” I said calmly. “You’re staying here until your FBI guy arrives.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Here?”
“Yes. We have rooms upstairs.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience anybody.”
Trigger barked out a laugh behind me. “Too late for that.”
I ignored him again.
Felicity shifted uncomfortably beneath my stare. “Bl—Hersh?—”
That nearly wrecked me.
Because she caught herself.
Meaning she knew.
She absolutely knew.
“You do remember me,” I said quietly.
Her face closed instantly.
Wrong move.
Too late now.
“I should’ve never come here,” she whispered.
Then she turned toward the door.
Absolutely not.
I caught her wrist before she made it two steps.
Gentle.
But firm.
The second my hand wrapped around her skin, everything inside me tightened.
My chest tightened.
Sixteen years disappeared in one touch.
Her breath caught too.
I heard it.
Felt it.
Saw it in the way her eyes lifted to mine.
“Hersh…”
Soft.
Broken.
There she is.
Not the guarded woman from the café.
My Flick.
Just for one second.
Then fear rushed back into her expression so fast it hit me like a punch.
“You can’t touch me,” she whispered urgently.
My body went cold.
“What?”
“You don’t understand.”
“No,” I said carefully. “I really don’t.”
Her eyes darted toward the windows again.
Panicked.
Like she expected someone to come through the door shooting.
Every protective instinct I had fully locked into place.
Whatever this was?
It was real.
And suddenly the questions from the café didn’t matter nearly as much as the fear written all over her face.
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Who’s after you?”
She looked at me for one long second.
And I realized something terrifying.
She was trying to decide whether trusting me would get me killed.