28. Felicity
FELICITY
The monsters finally picked the wrong town.
The words settled deep inside me.
Heavy.
Certain.
And for the first time in months…
I almost believed survival was possible.
Hersh still held my face gently between his hands while the storm battered Eagle River outside.
The tavern felt different now.
Not afraid.
Ready.
Wolf had already pulled out his phone, barking quiet orders to someone named Saint about roadblocks and vehicle descriptions.
Trigger sat at the bar with a laptop open, somehow looking both dangerous and deeply entertained at the same time.
Sheriff Tate was on his radio calling in trusted deputies only.
Trusted.
That word mattered now.
Ava stood near Vaughn, watching him with a level of disgust that had clearly turned personal.
And Isabel?
The poor girl looked stunned.
Like she couldn’t understand why all these people were suddenly fighting for us.
I understood.
Barely.
Because two days ago, I thought I was alone too.
Hersh’s thumbs brushed softly beneath my cheeks.
Tiny touch.
Grounding touch.
“You still with me?” he asked quietly.
I nodded once.
Though honestly?
Barely.
Everything happening tonight felt too big.
Too emotional.
Too dangerous.
“You should leave,” I whispered suddenly.
Hersh’s expression immediately hardened.
“No.”
“Hersh—”
“No.”
The force behind the word startled me.
Not angry.
Absolute.
“You heard Vaughn.”
“I don’t care.”
Fear climbed hard into my throat.
“But I do!”
Every eye in the tavern lifted toward us briefly.
I didn’t care anymore.
“They’ll kill you to get to me.”
Hersh stepped closer instead of backing away.
Of course he did.
“Flick—”
“I mean it!” My voice cracked painfully. “You don’t know these people. You don’t know what they do.”
His eyes locked on mine.
Steady.
Unshaken.
Then quietly?—
“You survived long enough to find your way back to me.”
My breath caught instantly.
Oh God.
“Hersh…”
He rested his forehead gently against mine.
And spoke the words that completely shattered whatever fear I still had left between us.
“I’m not letting anybody take you again.”
The tears came immediately.
Because he meant it.
Every impossible beautiful dangerous word.
Something inside me finally gave way then.
Not weakness.
Relief.
Pure overwhelming relief.
I grabbed the front of his shirt tightly and buried my face against his chest.
And Hersh held me like he planned to spend the rest of his life doing exactly that.
Behind us, Trigger pointed dramatically toward us while talking to Wolf.
“See? This is why unresolved feelings are hazardous to national security.”
Wolf shoved him without even looking up from his phone.
Tate muttered, “I’m surrounded by lunatics.”
Ava surprised all of us by quietly saying:
“No. You’re surrounded by people who actually care.”
The room went still after that.
Because she sounded almost shocked by it herself.
Vaughn laughed weakly from the floor.
“You people really think you can stop this?”
Nobody even looked at him.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Because suddenly the corrupt marshal wasn’t the biggest force in the room anymore.
Love was.
Loyalty.
Protection.
Family.
The exact things men like Vaughn and the senator underestimated.
Trigger finally looked up from his laptop.
“Oh, this just got fun.”
Wolf frowned. “What?”
Trigger slowly turned the screen toward the room.
Bank transfers.
Offshore accounts.
Political donations.
Cartel shell companies.
And right in the middle?—
a photograph.
My blood turned cold instantly.
Because it was me.
Walking into the café yesterday morning.
Someone had been watching me before Hersh ever found me.
Trigger’s face darkened.
“They’ve had eyes on Eagle River for days.”
Silence hit the tavern hard.
Hersh’s arms tightened around me immediately.
Protective instinct.
Automatic.
Wolf’s expression went lethal.
Tate swore quietly.
Ava looked genuinely alarmed now.
Then Trigger zoomed in farther on the image.
And suddenly the entire room froze.
Because standing blurry in the background of the photograph?—
was Hersh.
The picture had never been about finding me.
It was about finding him too.