Chapter 17 #4
Brianna swallowed, her hand gripping the phone tighter. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ll explain everything when I get there,’ he continued. ‘And whatever you do, just stay inside, and keep Sherlock with you at all times, okay.’
‘Okay,’ she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
‘Stay on the phone with me until I get there.’
‘Sure.’ She could hear him move. The sound of his boots across dirt, then the powerful rev of his LandCruiser’s engine as he sped off.
‘I’m not far away, I promise,’ he said, his voice steady despite the hum of adrenaline behind it. ‘Talk to me, Bri. Just keep talking.’
She tried to. She told him about Sherlock’s growl. About how the note made her stomach twist. About how the air outside had felt heavy, wrong, like someone was still out there watching.
‘You did the right thing, Bri,’ Hayden said firmly, his voice a lifeline in her ear. ‘You got inside, you locked up, and you called me straight away.’
‘Yeah,’ she whispered, though her throat was tight, her hand clammy around the phone.
Sherlock paced restlessly at the door, hackles bristling, his low rumble vibrating through the floorboards. Brianna pressed her back to the kitchen counter, sliding down until she was half-sitting, half-crumpled on the tiles.
‘You’re safe in there,’ Hayden continued, his tone softer now, calmer, but still thrumming with conviction. ‘I’ll be there before you know it. Just keep breathing with me, all right? In and out. Nice and steady.’
She tried, forcing air into her lungs, but it shuddered on the way out. ‘I hate this,’ she admitted, her voice breaking. ‘I hate feeling like I can’t protect myself. Like I’m … helpless.’
‘You’re not helpless,’ he said instantly, sharp and certain. ‘You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever bloody met, Bri. But even the strongest need someone in their corner sometimes. Let me be that for you, yeah?’
Her chest tightened, fresh tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to tell him everything – that she did want him in her corner, in her life, in her bed – that the thought of losing him before they even had a chance terrified her more than the note. But the words tangled on her tongue.
Instead, she whispered, ‘Just hurry.’
‘I’m coming as fast as I can,’ he said.
She could hear the LandCruiser shift gears, the engine growling as he pushed it harder down the dark road. ‘Keep Sherlock close. And Bri, don’t let go of that phone.’
Her gaze flicked to the crumpled note still clenched in her other hand.
Its words seemed to pulse on the page, dark and ominous.
She closed her eyes, clutching it tight, clinging to the only thing that kept the panic from swallowing her whole – Hayden’s voice in her ear, steady and sure, pulling her back from the edge.
‘Hang in there.’ His voice was a balm to her nerves. ‘I’m getting closer, four minutes out. Don’t open that door for anyone but me.’
‘I think it’s safe to say that I won’t.’ She almost laughed at that. Would have if she wasn’t terrified out of her wits. ‘What about Molly? Someone should call her and make sure she’s okay.’
But then there was a rap at the door, and Molly’s frantic voice. ‘Bri, are you in there? Bri, please, open the door!’
‘Coming!’ Brianna startled, then rushed to the door, phone still pressed to her ear. ‘It’s Molly,’ she whispered to Hayden. ‘She’s at the front door, and she sounds frantic.’
‘Check through the window first,’ Hayden urged. ‘Just to make sure it’s really her.’
Brianna crept to the window and peered out. Molly stood there, pale and shaking, holding something in her hand.
‘It’s her,’ Brianna murmured. ‘She looks scared.’
‘Let her in. Then lock everything again,’ Hayden said. ‘I’m almost there.’
Brianna opened the door just enough for Molly to slip inside, then bolted it again behind her.
Molly thrust an envelope into Brianna’s hands. ‘I got this,’ she said, breath hitching. ‘On my doorstep.’
It said the same thing as Brianna’s note, except that it was addressed to Molly. They stood in stunned silence, Hayden still on speaker.
‘Hang in there,’ Hayden said again. ‘I’m turning onto your road now.’
The two women moved as one, securing windows and rechecking every latch. Sherlock circled the cottage, tail stiff, growling low. They sank onto the couch, barely breathing. And then bright headlights swept across the window.
Hayden was there.
Brianna exhaled, pulse pounding as relief threatened to buckle her. The sight of his LandCruiser idling in the drive, the steady crunch of his boots approaching the verandah, should have been enough to quiet the panic. And yet the note still burned in her hand, the words etched sharp as a blade.
The deadbolt clicked, Sherlock’s growl eased, and Hayden stepped into the room, bringing with him the scent of dust and leather and the promise of safety. His gaze swept over them both, sharp and assessing, before softening just enough when it landed on Brianna again.
‘You’re safe now,’ he said, though his jaw was tight, and his eyes carried no illusions.
Because safe was temporary.
And deep down, all three of them knew it.