Chapter Nineteen
After KC tucked an exhausted Moriah into bed and told her he’d be in soon, she drifted off almost immediately.
He lingered in the doorway, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing, the contrast of her dark hair against the white pillowcase making her look even more fragile than earlier.
The king-size bed swallowed her, leaving too much space around her, and something about that didn’t sit right with him.
He’d never expected to feel this way about anyone.
Not like this—fast and deep, with no warning.
But none of it mattered if they couldn’t get her clear of the mess she’d been dragged into.
That had to come first. After that… if she wanted the same thing he did, they could figure out what came next.
Whether what was building between them had a future worth fighting for.
For the first time in his life, he found himself hoping it did.
He eased the door closed and headed back to the living room, where his brothers and uncle were still gathered.
They’d spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening going over the limited intel they had, turning it over from every angle, trying to find a way forward.
There weren’t many options yet, but they had a plan to keep things moving.
Sean would reach out to Agent Samson again in the morning to see if anything new had come in.
Dan would contact his friend, Matt Griffin, the local sheriff, and give him a heads-up about what was unfolding in his town.
If Griffin had questions, Brian made it clear he could call him directly.
For now, the priority was simple—keep Moriah safe and out of sight. If Brian’s call to Detective Parisi had raised any suspicion, they couldn’t risk exposing her.
When it got late, Brian and Dan headed out, exchanging quiet goodnights and promises to check in first thing in the morning. Sean claimed KC’s bedroom without discussion, and no one said a word about KC staying with Moriah. He wasn’t about to leave her alone—not after everything she’d been through.
The day had taken its toll on her. Telling her story had forced her to relive it, and the loss of her family came crashing back in full force. She’d tried to hold it together, but the fear was still there, under the surface. He’d seen it in her eyes and felt it in the way she’d clung to him.
They’d all promised she’d be safe—that nothing would happen to her on their watch. It wasn’t just talk. They would see this through. Moriah mattered to him, and his family wouldn’t turn their backs on that.
Walking through the house, he rechecked the doors and windows, making sure everything was locked.
He’d called his teammates earlier to bring supplies, knowing it would take a couple of hours for them to get there.
Afterward, he hadn’t bothered trying to sleep.
Instead, he stayed up, keeping watch over the quiet house.
Sean sat at the dining table with his laptop open, the glow of the screen lighting his face as he worked through an FBI case. They didn’t say much. They didn’t need to. The quiet between them was easy, broken only by the soft tapping of keys and the steady rush of the ocean beyond the dunes.
The place felt different at night. The familiar sounds—the distant surf, the faint creaks of the old structure—had once meant summer and freedom, back when he and his brothers spent their vacations here.
But after their parents died and they moved in for good, those same sounds meant something else.
What had once been temporary became permanent, a reminder that everything had changed.
They’d each handled the grief in their own way.
There were times it got the better of them, when tempers ran hot and decisions weren’t the smartest. But Uncle Dan had been there through it all—steady, patient, and firm when he needed to be.
He kept them in line without breaking them, giving them room to work through it while making sure they didn’t go too far.
Now, years later, KC stood in that same house, listening to those same sounds, and knew exactly what was at stake.
About two and a half hours after his call, headlights swept across the front of the house, cutting through the darkness. KC moved to the kitchen window and looked out, confirming it was his teammate and not anyone else.
Tobias Anderson III—T3—didn’t waste time.
He came through the door with a heavy knapsack slung over one shoulder, his size alone enough to fill the space.
At six foot five and built like the linebacker he used to be, he was hard to miss.
A scar ran from his left temple down his cheek to his jaw, a reminder of a mission KC would never forget.
He greeted Sean with a quick handshake before setting his bag on the table and unzipping it.
Gear came out in an organized spread—silent entry alarms, small enough to mount on doors and windows, along with extra ammunition for the Glocks KC and Sean carried.
KC lifted a brow at the growing pile. Before he could ask, T3 held up a hand.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell. I could only get six alarms on short notice, but I grabbed two receivers. That should cover you. If not, I’ll track down more in the morning and bring them back.”
KC nodded, already mapping it out. “Six is enough. Windows along the deck and the back door are the only easy access points. Front’s too exposed, and the storage room door would give them away before they got inside.”
T3 gave a short huff. “They won’t overthink it. Back door’s the easiest way in.”
Sean closed his laptop and joined them without a word, picking up one of the devices as KC started assigning placements.
The three of them moved through the house, attaching silent alarms to the doors and windows that could be breached.
By the time they finished, each bedroom had a receiver in place.
T3 didn’t linger once the job was done. KC thanked him, and the man headed back out the way he’d come, promising to be on standby if they needed anything else.
When the door closed behind him, the house settled into quiet again.
KC gave his brother a quick clap on the shoulder. “Moriah insisted on changing the sheets for you earlier. Guess she needed to feel useful. See you in the morning—and thanks for staying.”
Sean let out a soft “Yee-haw,” earning a chuckle from KC as he headed down the hall toward the primary bedroom.
It had been a long time since they’d played cops and robbers, but this was the first time as adults that they would stand side by side against a real threat.
He traded his jeans for sweatpants and tossed his shirt aside. He usually slept in boxer briefs, but tonight he stayed dressed enough to move fast if needed.
After setting his loaded weapon on the nightstand within easy reach, KC climbed into bed beside Moriah. The receiver sat on the dresser, the small red light blinking steadily, ready to sound if anything tripped the system.
He slipped an arm around her and drew her closer, his leg settling over hers in a protective hold. She shifted in her sleep, pressing back into him, and some of the tension he’d been carrying eased at the response.
Sleep came not long after.
Red. Dark red.
Blood...
On the floor...
On the walls...
On the ceiling...
On… her family.
Oh, God, no! Mama! Susan! Nicholas!
Please, God, no!
Run! They’re coming!
Run!
Moriah jerked awake on a strangled cry, her heart racing so hard it hurt. The images clung to her for a moment longer, vivid and suffocating, before the dim outline of the bedroom came into focus. Movement beside her registered next—quick, sharp.
KC had already grabbed his gun.
The realization cut through the haze of her nightmare as she watched him scan the room, his body coiled and ready. After a moment, something in his posture shifted. He set the weapon back on the nightstand and turned toward her, the tension easing as he pulled her into his arms.
“Are you okay?”
“Just a nightmare,” she managed, her voice unsteady, breath coming too fast. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
He pressed his lips to her damp forehead. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Swallowing several times, she leaned into his gentle caresses. One hand moved along her arm while the other rested at her side, warm and steady. The edge of the panic receded, and she slowly melted against his solid body.
Closing her eyes, she focused on his touch instead of the horror still lingering in her mind.
She inhaled deeply, his scent surrounding her, soothing yet stirring something deeper.
A different kind of awareness began to build, her breathing turning uneven as she tilted her head back and brushed her lips along his jaw.
The scrape of his stubble sent a shiver through her, and when his mouth met hers, she kissed him back with quiet intensity.
She wanted to hold on to the moment—in case everything else fell apart.
Part of her wanted to run, to put distance between herself and the danger that followed her, but the rest of her refused to let go of the man she was falling for.
Her hands moved over his chest, his back, his shoulders, tracing the strength beneath her palms as she held on to him.
“Stay with me,” she whispered against his lips.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
He eased her back against the pillows, his touch gentler now, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t. She only held on tighter, needing the closeness, the reassurance, the warmth of him beside her.
The world beyond the room faded as she focused on him—on his presence, the way he held her, and the quiet comfort he offered without question.
Wrapped in his arms, she let the nightmare slip away and gave in to the quiet connection between them.
In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Moriah clung to him, and he kept her close. The only sound in the room was the uneven rhythm of their breathing.
KC lay there, her weight resting against him, her warmth pressed close, his mind slow to catch up.
A lingering sense of heat and closeness hung between them, the kind that came after something intense, something neither of them had held back from.
His hand moved slowly along her back, more instinct than thought, his body reluctant to let go of the moment.
He hadn’t planned for that. Hadn’t meant for things to go that far, not with everything she’d been dealing with. But she hadn’t been fragile in his arms. She’d been sure, deliberate, needing something he hadn’t had it in him to deny her.
And he hadn’t wanted to.
That truth sat with him, heavier by the second. Because, as right as it had felt in the moment, the timing couldn’t have been worse. He should have slowed things down. Should have been the one thinking clearly.
Instead…
A flicker of unease stirred at the back of his mind. Something wasn’t right.
Then it hit him.
His eyes snapped open, his body going still as the realization slammed into place.
No.
No, no, no.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, lifting her head, her voice soft but edged with concern.
“Um…” He cleared his throat before forcing the words out. “We… didn’t use a condom.”
“Oh, no!” she gasped, scrambling away to the other side of the bed, eyes wide. “I’m sorry—I wasn’t thinking.”
He let out a wry chuckle. “That makes two of us. And don’t apologize for my stupidity.
I’m the one who’s supposed to wear the damn thing, so it’s my responsibility.
” Pulling her into his arms, he coaxed her into lying beside him, then touched his lips to the top of her head.
“I’m clean, sweetheart. I had my routine blood work for the military a few weeks ago, and it’s been quite a while since I’ve been with anyone else. ”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve always used protection, and it’s been a very long time for me too. But what happens if... if...”
He knew exactly where her thoughts had gone. His fingers lifted her chin until she met his gaze. “If I got you pregnant, we’ll deal with it. I promise. I would never run from my responsibilities.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to think I did this on purpose.”
“I don’t.” A faint, tired smile touched his mouth. “If anyone wasn’t thinking clearly, it was me.”
He turned onto his side again and drew her in, tucking her against him, one arm wrapped around her in a steady hold.
“Think you can get some sleep now without another nightmare?” he asked.
She nodded, her hair brushing his jaw. “I think so.”
“Good.”
He stayed there, listening as her breathing evened out again, his mind still turning over everything they’d just added to an already complicated situation. For now, though, there was nothing more he could do about it.
With her warm against him, he finally let himself drift.