Chapter 13
Sawyer
“See, how is this right?” Garrison asks as he and Katelyn come strolling into the hospital room. “You tell me that I’m shaving years off your life. Then, less than seven months after getting shot, you go and get yourself blown up.”
I chuckle, then instantly regret it when pain shoots up through my side.
“Don’t make him laugh,” Anastasia scolds.
I glance over to where she’s sitting at my bedside. When I woke this morning, she’d been curled up against me, her breathing soft and rhythmic. Mine, however, was all over the place because, the moment I became aware enough to really focus on her, that kiss popped back into my mind.
A slow meeting of lips I’ve long desired to taste.
“You going to live?” he asks me.
“I’m optimistic,” I reply. Garrison grins, but Katelyn and Anastasia glare at me.
“Not funny,” Anastasia says.
I grin at her, just so grateful that she’s here.
“Doc says I’ll be out of here in three days so long as nothing else breaks.
Any idea on the cause of the explosion yet?
” Since Garrison is an expert in all things regarding controlled demolition and explosions, he’s the only one I trust to give me the truth.
“Officially, I haven’t been cleared to go in yet.” He crosses his arms.
“But?” I ask, knowing he’s likely already completed his own investigation despite the red tape.
“The explosion originated near your acetylene tanks.”
“That’s impossible. I always inspect my equipment. They were in perfect shape.” But then I remember the small hissing noise that alerted me that something was off. “I heard something right before the blast. A hissing that sounded like air leaking.”
“Then that’s your answer. Who closed up?”
“Drew.” I try to think through any possible reason he would have had to touch those tanks, but come up short. “He’s not a welder, though. I’m the only one who uses those tanks.”
“Someone deliberately rigged your shop to explode. There was a charred piece of wire connected to a cigarette lighter near the front door. When you opened the door, that flame ignited the leaking gas. The secondary explosion was the fuel tank in the truck that had been in the bay.”
I narrow my gaze. “There shouldn’t have been a truck in the bay.”
Garrison arches a brow. “Brother, there absolutely was a truck in the bay. I saw pieces of it myself.”
“There wasn’t anyone inside, right?” I ask, new worry surging to the surface. There shouldn’t have been. The shop would have been empty at least an hour before that. But if there was a truck—what if Drew was working on it when the blast went off?
“No one was inside. Leopold already spoke to Drew. He knows what happened and alerted everyone else who works there. Anyone who had access to your shop is present and accounted for.”
“Okay, good.” I try to draw a deep breath, but with one lung collapsed, that’s impossible. “Have the police come up with any ideas yet?”
“Jack called in ATF. They’re going to be combing through everything now.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so sorry, Sawyer,” Anastasia says, her voice cracking beneath the weight of emotion.
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” I reach out with my good hand, and Anastasia takes it with hers. “Anastasia said Weston and Ryker pulled us away before the second blast.”
“You can start calling me a Super Tank,” Ryker announces as he and Weston stroll into the room. Both men look absolutely exhausted, even as they’re both standing straight, their shoulders squared.
Not much rattles Cowboy and Tank. And for that, I am immensely grateful.
“I’m changing your ringtone as soon as I get a new phone,” I tell him. “‘Holding Out For A Hero’ seems like a great choice.”
Ryker grins.
Even Weston looks amused. “We’re happy you’re alive, Cable Guy.”
“Yeah, me, too.” I squeeze Anastasia’s hand gently, but she still looks completely broken by what happened. How can I get her to see that it’s okay? That none of this is her fault?
“Your place is leveled,” Weston says. “That second explosion even took out the windows on Anastasia’s place. We got those boarded up by the way,” he adds toward her.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah,” he replies.
The door opens again, and Zane walks in alongside Tessa and Momma Knox, who is carrying a duffel bag.
“Now it’s a party,” I say. “It’s good to see everyone.”
“It’s good to see you awake,” Zane tells me. “Seriously, Brother.”
“Good to be seen.” I turn toward Linda, who has placed a hand gently on Anastasia’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” she tells me with tears in her eyes. “Your actions saved my baby girl.”
“I won’t ever let anything happen to her,” I say. “Ever. You don’t need to thank me for it.”
“I know, honey. But I will still thank you every day for the rest of my life.” She smiles then releases Anastasia to pat my head. “You take care of yourself, too, Sawyer. What will I do without my lunch date?”
I grin. “You’d better not replace me. I’ll be back. Good as new.”
She laughs. “You are one of a kind, Sawyer. There’s no replacing you. Honey, I brought those things you asked for, and Axel is sleeping soundly at my house. Is there anything else you need?”
Anastasia shakes her head. “Thanks, Momma.”
“Of course. If either of you needs anything, you call.” She shifts her gaze from Anastasia to me, then back to her daughter again.
“We will,” I assure her.
“Good.” She turns to the others. “I am making a massive dinner at my house to feed everyone helping with the explosion. Be there or not, up to you. There will be leftovers,” she adds with a wink in my direction.
“I’m already fragile, Momma Knox. Not being included might be what breaks me.”
Linda smirks. “Somehow I think your heart is going to heal just fine.”
Anastasia stands and gives her mom a hug, then accepts one from Tessa, who whispers something in her ear that has the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
When she steps aside, Zane moves in and wraps his arms around his sister.
I can see how she crumbles against him. How he holds her up until she puts herself back together again. It’s a type of support I never had growing up, but I promise to never be anything but that sturdy rock for Anastasia. Someone else she can turn to in moments of crisis.
“Rest up, Cable Guy,” Zane says, then turns and leaves the room with his wife and mother.
“We’d better get going, too. I’m hoping to have those new windows installed first thing in the morning, Anastasia.”
“Thanks, Garrison. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
“I love you, Anastasia,” Katelyn says as she pulls her in for a hug. “So much. Please call if you need me.”
“I will, thanks. Love you, too.”
Weston and Ryker move forward in Garrison and Katelyn’s absence.
“Leopold has a deputy coming by every so often to check in. If you see anything off, call us.” Weston glances at Ryker. “I, for one, would love to get my hands on the guy who’s doing this.”
Ryker grunts in agreement.
“Stand in line,” I tell them. “And thanks again for getting us out of there when you did.”
“No need to thank us. That ringtone will be thanks enough,” Ryker says.
“You’ve got it, Tank.”
Both Ryker and Weston head out the door, closing it behind them. Everyone was only here for a half hour or so, but it feels like forever since I was alone with Anastasia.
“What’s in the bag your mom brought?” I ask her.
“Clothes.” She gestures to the stained and torn outfit she’d been wearing when my shop blew. “And stuff to shower. Once I get the cast, at least.”
“You’re staying?” I had just assumed she’d be going to stay with her mom, but to know she’s going to be here—it brings me more joy than I deserve. Especially when I know it can’t be comfortable.
“Sawyer, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”
“That’s my favorite kind of stuck.”
She smiles.
“What did Tessa say to you?”
“When?”
“After she hugged you. Whatever it was, it made you smile.”
Her cheeks flush with color. “Oh. That.” She laughs softly and leans back in the chair, drawing both knees up to her chest. “Well, the night we watched Hogan’s Heroes, she and Katelyn were giving me a hard time.”
“Why?”
“They kept calling it a date. So she told me that you and I moved awfully fast since we seem to be living together now.”
I snort. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it.”
“You’ve pictured it?”
“Only every day since the moment we met.”
Anastasia’s smile widens now, and her hazel eyes burn brightly. At least until a knock at the door pulls her attention.
Rose, the nurse who’d called me when Garrison had been injured seven months ago, steps in. “Hey, sweetie, we’re ready to get that cast on.”
Anastasia stands. “Great. I think I’m going with neon yellow,” she adds with a wink in my direction.
Right as she gets to the door, though, panic cuts through. What if he gets to her? What if she needs me? I start to sit up, but pain shoots through me, sending my entire body into a revolution against my desire to be with her.
“We’ve got her, Hun,” Rose says. It’s only after she says it that I realize my heart rate spiked and the monitor isn’t happy about it.
“She needs protection,” I say quickly. “If you give me a minute, I can come.” I try to sit again, but Anastasia shakes her head.
“You stay right where you are.”
“Hospital security is here,” Rose tells me. “They’ll escort us down, okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” Anastasia assures me. “I’ll see you in just a bit, okay?”
My heart rate begins to slow, and I take a shallow breath, thanks to the whole only one working lung thing. “Okay.”
But as they leave the room, I have to actively fight every urge to get up and follow. And then—I lose the fight. She needs me there. They can yell at me later. I start to sit once more, but pain shoots through every inch of my body all over again. Hitting me from the top of my head down to my feet.
I fall back, breathing ragged.
Come on.
“You going to survive?”
At the new voice, I stop moving and open my eyes. Great. Jack is a few feet away from my bed, a cup of coffee in his hand. His hair is a mess on top of his head, and despite the bags under his eyes, his gaze is sharp.
“I’m optimistic,” I reply, repeating my earlier words to Garrison.
“Great. Listen, where is Anastasia?”
“With the doctor, getting her cast on.” He nods. “Is there something you need? I’m sure the nurses can show you the way.”
“Actually, I need to talk to you.”
“About?” If this is some kind of intimidation tactic, I am really not in the mood.
“I checked the shops around the shipping center the cat was sent from, looking for anyone who came in and bought a minutes-only phone. We got lucky at one.” He reaches into his pocket and withdraws his phone, then turns it to face me.
A man wearing a baseball cap and dark glasses is standing at a register, a phone on the counter in front of him.
“We don’t have an ID since he paid with a pre-purchased gift card, but the description matches one given to us by a witness three years ago.”
Unease twists in my gut like a knife. Three years ago? But this all just started…right?
“That, coupled with the phone call escalation—one on contact night, two the next, then three, four, and finally a gift—matches the pattern of a serial killer we’ve been hunting for the last three years.”
“Serial killer?” Every single muscle in my body is on edge, every nerve firing at once.
I have to get to her.
“His last known hunting grounds were in Georgia, but it seems he’s relocated.”
“And he just so happened to choose Stormwatch Landing? And your ex-girlfriend?”
Jack clenches his jaw. “I’m not missing that connection, either.
It’s possible he was watching me, and one of the times she came out to visit—” He trails off, anger rolling off of him like a heavy, invisible fog.
“I never would have done anything to put her at risk. Never would have had her come if I’d thought, even for a second, that her life was in danger. ”
Logically, I know that.
But, man, do I want to blame him. Because if he’d never stuck around, never asked her out, Anastasia would be safe right now.
Still, it’s not his fault.
“It’s not your fault,” I say out loud. “What do you know about him?”
“He doesn’t miss a target,” Jack says, his voice serious. “For an entire year, he dropped bodies—all women—in different parts of Georgia. There were twelve of them.”
“Twelve?”
Jack nods. “Their friends always described phone calls, random gifts—but we never found a bug in one of them. I even had my team go back and check.”
“So, either she was the first for that, or it’s someone else.”
“The date stamp on that gift was the day before we split.”
“He thought you were still together.”
Jack nods.
“Which means that bug wasn’t necessarily meant to listen in on Anastasia. But on you.”
Jack drops his coffee cup into the trash can. “With the other cases, he stalked for three weeks. After that, he made his move. Always a public place with a lot of people.”
“He killed publicly?”
Once more, Jack nods. “This guy is dangerous, Sawyer. Anastasia’s life is in serious danger, and I’m not sure how to protect her if I can’t catch him.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” I tell him. “You just find him.”
“As much as I hate it, I’m glad she has someone like you,” he says.
“And a friend like you,” I add.
“Friend.” Jack laughs, but it’s lacking all humor. “Interesting how we’ve traded places, huh?” He takes a deep breath. “You said that she’s with the doctor?”
“I was going to go see,” I grunt through clenched teeth and try to sit up.
“Stay here before you kill yourself. I’ll go and stay with her until she’s back here. I’m also posting a federal agent on the door at all times. Just until you guys leave. The safest place for her right now is here.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“Yeah, well, you stepped away to give us a chance to work out. The least I can do is make sure you get the same opportunity to screw it up as I did.”