Chapter 26
Anastasia
“Here you go.” I set a fresh cup of coffee and a still-warm muffin down on the table in front of Captain Leopold.
He grins up at me. “You didn’t need to do this.”
“I know. But waiting makes me anxious, and baking helps with that.” I take a seat at the table, setting my herbal tea down. “I think any extra caffeine is a bad idea at the present moment,” I add when he eyes my tea.
He laughs. “Fair enough.”
I’ve known Alan Leopold my entire life. He and my dad served on the police force together, and he’d been there when he was killed. It was Alan who came to the house and told my mother.
Alan who held her when she collapsed.
His wife showed up shortly after and arranged for food to be delivered in the following weeks. Their kindness is something I have never forgotten, and neither of them will ever have to pay for anything in my shop. It’s not much, but it’s all I can do.
“You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asks me.
“Not really. But I’m trying.” I wrap my hands around the warm mug, hoping it’ll fight off some of the chill.
An explosion.
Sawyer nearly died…again.
“Sawyer’s a tough kid,” he says.
I grin. “I’m sure he’d love you calling him a kid.”
“You are all kids to me,” he replies, then takes a drink of his coffee. “You know your dad would be proud of you and Zane.”
My throat constricts. “I miss him so much. Especially when everything is going sideways.”
He reaches over and covers my hand with his.
“I know you do. I miss him, too.” He withdraws his hand and laughs.
“You have no idea how many times over the years I’ve been working a case and wanted so badly to ask him a question.
Your dad—no one could see patterns like him.
The guy could spot a threat from fifteen miles out. ”
I smile, remembering all the times my dad would come home from work and tell us these outlandish tales of hunting down bad guys and saving innocents.
He made being a police officer sound so glamorous, but now that I’m an adult, I remember the way his shoulders slumped.
What he saw weighed on him. And I wish I’d been old enough to see it then.
To give him a hug and tell him how proud I am to be his daughter.
“He would have liked Sawyer, too,” Leopold says.
“Yeah, I think he would have, too.”
“You’re happy. I mean, I know things are bad right now, but I see it on your face.”
“Sawyer makes me happy. He always has.”
“Good. If he hurts you, though, he’ll have a line to deal with.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I believe that makes three threats between you, Weston, and Zane.”
“Good.” He laughs again and takes a drink of his coffee. “You know—”
Someone beats on the back door, and I jump up, knocking my tea hard enough that hot liquid spills out. Leopold gets to his feet and draws his weapon, and all earlier softness vanishes from his expression.
“Get upstairs and lock the door,” he says.
I move toward the stairs as quickly as I can, while he pulls the curtains back enough to look outside. A second later, he’s holstering his firearm and ripping the door open.
A man falls through, landing on the floor with a heavy thud and a loud groan.
“Jack!” I cry out and sprint toward the two men as Leopold drags him all the way inside and locks the door. I drop to my knees at his side. There’s blood smeared all over his face. Droplets are dried on his white T-shirt.
“This is Captain Alan Leopold,” Leopold says into his radio. He steps away and finishes talking, but my attention is on the man before me.
“Are you okay?” I ask as I cup his face in my hands.
He smiles up at me. “Hey.”
“Hey. We’re getting you help, okay?” Tears fill my eyes at the sight of the man who once showed me such love and kindness, now his face bloody and bruised.
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath, then closes his eyes.
“Jack? Wake up. You have to stay awake.”
But his head falls to the side, and his mouth falls slack.
“Jack!”
“I really am okay, Anastasia,” Jack insists as I offer him another pillow.
He’d managed to break free of the bindings holding him to the chair and stumbled his way here.
So now he’s tucked away in my guest bedroom, having escaped with only surface-level injuries and dehydration.
It’s such a relief to have him back, but I can’t get the image of him collapsing at my door out of my head.
“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“You have successfully done that,” he replies with a soft laugh. When I go to move the glass of water closer to him on the nightstand, he covers my hand with his. “I’m fine, Anastasia. Really.”
When I look over at him, he removes his hand and smiles awkwardly.
“Sorry, habit.” He folds his hands in his lap.
“The doctor said rest. So—do that. I’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner.” With one final smile, I leave the room, then close the door behind me. I lean back against it and close my eyes, trying to ease the anxiety.
We still don’t know who took him.
Who tried to kill Sawyer—again.
And now, my ex-boyfriend is resting in my guest room, while my new boyfriend and Weston are crashing in my living room.
“He doing okay?” Sawyer’s voice cuts through the anxiety. That is, until I open my eyes and see the harsh set of his jaw.
“I think so.” I push off the door and move down the hall toward him.
And he doesn’t step out of my way when I reach him.
His face is still smeared with ash from the explosion, though he changed out of his wet clothes as soon as we got back from the hospital with Jack.
“Are you okay?” I ask him. We haven’t had any time to talk since the explosion.
“Just a little explosion.” He shrugs. “No big deal.”
“Sawyer.”
“It’s fine, Anastasia.” He takes a deep breath. “Guess I’m feeling a bit—”
“Jealous?” Weston offers from the couch.
Sawyer rolls his eyes. “Gee, thanks, Cowboy.”
“Happy to help.” Weston waves his hand at us.
“You don’t need to be jealous, Sawyer. That’s ridiculous.”
“You spent eight months with him. With what happened, what if...” he trails off. “Look, I’ll get it, okay? I won’t understand, but I’ll get it if—”
I stretch up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. Sawyer’s arm comes around my back and pulls me in, while I keep mine firmly on his chest. Right over his heart. After a few moments, I pull away. “I love you, Sawyer. Jack needs my help, and I won’t turn him away. No matter what.”
He visibly relaxes. “I love you, too.”
I smile at him. “Then go get a shower so I can start dinner.” I stretch up on my tiptoes again. “Because you stink, SEAL.”
He laughs and shakes his head as he moves around me and down the hall.
After the door to my bedroom closes behind him, I move into the living room. Weston’s grin stops me in my tracks. “What are you smiling about?”
“You.” He gets up and follows me into the kitchen.
“What about me? Last I checked, there’s still a psycho after me.”
His smile falls just a bit. “Yeah, but you’re happy. Sawyer makes you happy.”
“He does.”
“Good. Then I don’t have to break his legs.”
I roll my eyes and retrieve a pot to fill with water. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously protective of you,” he replies.
As the pot fills, I pull out a deep skillet and start pre-heating it. The pause in activity gives me a moment to wrap my mind around everything that just happened. Around the truth that I hadn’t wanted to believe. “He was going to kill them both,” I tell Weston.
“Yes. He was.”
“I walked Sawyer into a trap.”
“While I don’t agree with you coming back, Sawyer walked himself into it, knowing what it was.”
“Jack—”
“Is not the reason Sawyer did that, and you know it. Sure, losing Jack would have been horrible, but any one of the rest of us would have sent the cavalry in instead of risking you by bringing you back here.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That Sawyer respects your opinion. Now, if the psycho had requested that you go after Jack, he would have taken that boat to the edge of the world.” He chuckles softly.
Tears blur my vision. I am so tired of crying. “I want to get to a place where he doesn’t have to risk his life for me.”
“You will. We’ll catch this guy. Now, put me to work, chef.” He claps his hands together, and I smile.
Weston loves to cook. Like, loves it. Probably partially because he doesn’t get a whole lot of time to actually prepare food. But his smoked brisket? It’s legendary in Stormwatch Landing. During the fall, I sell his brisket chili in the shop. Most days, we sell out before lunchtime.
“You start on the sauce.” I point to some jars of marinara I canned right before this nightmare started. “Meat is thawed in the fridge.”
“You’ve got it, boss.”
As we cook, we fall into enough of a rhythm that my mind begins to wander again.
What’s next?
Will this guy still come after me even though Sawyer and Jack both escaped? Will he disappear just like he did after killing Violet?
Somehow, I very much doubt that.
So what then? What’s going to be his next move? Will he decide that catching me is too much trouble and opt to blow up my coffee shop—me inside—instead? My stomach twists at the thought. Especially because of the three men currently inside with me.
Will he go after my mom?
Zane?
Tessa?
Weston’s phone rings. “Hayes,” he answers. His gaze locks on mine. “You’re sure? Okay. We’ll be right there.” He ends the call and shoves it back into his pocket.
“What is it?”
“Leopold thinks they caught the guy.”
Hope floods my system like an avalanche. “Seriously?”
“He wants us to come down to the station.”
“Done.” I turn off the stove and sprint down the hall to my bedroom. Without thinking, I shove the door open to tell Sawyer, my mind only on delivering what could be the best possible news.
And then I see him.
Standing in my bathroom, wearing only a pair of shorts, his skin still damp from the shower. He turns toward me, gaze heating when he sees me clearly checking him out.
I mean, who could blame me?
I may be determined to be celibate until marriage, but I’m definitely not dead. And Sawyer Maddox is built like a battle-hardened soldier. Every inch of his body is toned muscle.
“Everything okay?” he shrugs into his shirt.
“I—yeah. Wow. Sorry.”
He grins. “You’ve seen me shirtless before.”
“Sure, but—” I take a deep breath and shake my head, pausing for a moment and letting the full weight of what Weston said sink in.
Because if Leopold is right, then this is about to all be over.
I can go back to church on Sundays.
Sawyer and I can officially go on dates.
Life can resume.
I level my gaze on Sawyer, hoping that Leopold is right and this guy finally slipped up. “They think they caught him, Sawyer. They think they got the guy.”