Chapter 24
HANNAH
My phone buzzes on my nightstand and I roll over to grab it.
It's only seven in the morning and someone has the nerve to call me this early.
That someone's name is flashing on my phone screen, and I glower, already thinking of the ways I’m going to hurt him for waking me up so early.
But I swipe to answer and mumble, "What? "
"Hannah, it's Luke."
"I know," I grumble, feeling grumpy. "It's seven in the morning."
"I know what time it is. I need you to come to my office."
I sit up and push my hair out of my face. "Right now?" This feels like torture. I never get to sleep in anyway, and waking twenty minutes before my alarm is painful.
"Right now. I've got something you need to see and it can't wait. It's about Dorsey."
That wakes me up the rest of the way. I swing my legs off the bed and reach for the jeans draped over the chair. "What about him?" I ask as I pinch the phone between my ear and shoulder while I shove my legs in the jeans.
"I'd rather show you in person. Can you be here in twenty minutes?"
If it's important enough to him that he feels the urge to wake me up this early, I have to take it seriously. "I can be there in fifteen."
"Good, just don't call anyone else about this. Just come straight here."
"You're scaring me, Luke." I sit straighter, holding the phone with my hand now.
"I don't mean to. I just need you to see this before we figure out our next move. I'll explain when you get here."
I hang up and pull on my jeans and a T-shirt and skip the toast entirely.
My stomach is calm this morning, which is rare, so I grab my keys and drive to the marina.
The parking lot is mostly empty when I arrive.
Tank's truck is in its usual spot and Gary's van is parked near the bait shop, but the pier is quiet as I walk to Luke's office.
I knock, but he's already at the door, probably saw me through the window and knew I was here.
He opens for me with a dark look of concern.
"Come in," he says, stepping aside.
I pass by him into the messy, cluttered space and stand there with my arms closed. Luke closes the door and pulls a second chair around to the front of the desk for me.
"Sit down," he says.
I sit as he reaches into the top drawer and pulls out a manila folder, thick with paper, and sets it on the desk between us. "Everything I'm about to show you comes from my buddy I told you about, the one who's investigating Dorsey for me."
"Okay?" I say, feeling a bit annoyed. This stack of papers doesn’t feel as life-or-death as he made it sound when I was still in my warm bed.
Until he opens the folder and spreads the pages out across the desk.
I lean forward and look over the files. The first few pages are corporate filings.
Shell companies registered in the Cayman Islands, all connected through a single holding group that traces back to a freight operation based in Panama.
Dorsey's name appears on two of the filings as a managing director.
The dates go back years, long before he ever showed up in Bandon.
But then Luke turns to the next set of documents.
Shipping manifests showing cargo routed from ports in Panama, Colombia, and Ecuador to small coastal towns along the Pacific.
Towns I've never heard of. The shipment descriptions are vague, just like on my shipments, but I'm starting to see a pattern.
This isn't the first town Dorsey has been to.
"Keep going," Luke says, scowling. He gestures at the stack so I flip a few sheets of paper over and keep reading.
The next pages are financial records. Wire transfers between Dorsey's personal accounts and offshore entities that don't correspond to any vendor I've ever approved.
The amounts are larger than six figures in some cases, and the timing lines up with his shipments into Bandon.
It's starting to make the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end.
This man is running some sort of smuggling operation through our small town, and I'm the one who gave him all the freedom and access he needs.
"I gave him everything," I say blankly, leaning back. "My vendor lists, my delivery schedules, my permit applications. I handed him the blueprint for this entire festival and told him to run with it."
"You didn't know," Luke says, shaking his head. He crouches in front of me and rests a hand on my knee, as if that should be comforting. This is all my fault. I was so eager to do this festival and help our town heal that I invited a monster in and let him run wild.
"I should've known. You tried to tell me and I shut you down.
He's been using my festival to move stuff through this town.
My name is on every permit. If someone pulls a single thread, it all leads back to me.
" I feel lost and trapped, and I'm confused and overwhelmed.
This isn't right. I should've seen this a mile away.
"Look, you can't do that to yourself. We're gonna get him, but before we go to anyone else, you need to understand the full picture so you can get ahead of it."
"Get ahead of it, how? I'm the event chair. I invited this man to help me because I was too overwhelmed to do it myself. I practically rolled out a red carpet for him." I press my fingers to my temples and almost cry. "I just needed his money so badly."
"You trusted someone who presented himself as a donor. That's not a crime. He targeted you because you're running a legitimate event in a small town with a working harbor. He would've found another way in even if you'd turned him down."
This is so scary and so humiliating. I know I did nothing wrong, but what if the courts don't see it that way? And what if this town doesn't see it that way? They've been on Luke's back for twelve years now. How long will they judge me? I might have to move away after this.
"Why aren't you angry with me?" I ask, feeling confused. I look down into his eyes and feel myself pulling away, ready for shame to mix with this self-condemnation and sting like hell.
"Why would I be angry with you?"
"Because I trusted him over you. You warned me and I brushed you off and kept working with him anyway." Covering my face, I clench my eyes shut and try not to let the shame suffocate me. But Luke pulls my hands down.
"You didn't do anything wrong, honey." I swallow hard as he calls me that. He's being so kind, and I've been so rude to him the past several months.
"I was so stubborn."
"You had been hurt. You had no reason to trust me.
" He reaches up and cups my cheek. "We need to take this to the authorities.
Rico has a contact at the ATF who handles Pacific Corridor cases.
If we hand this over with your testimony about the canceled vendors and the altered permits, it builds a case Dorsey can't talk his way out of. "
"What about the festival, though? I mean, what if he pulls his money…" This sounds like the most selfish request I can make, but I'm not thinking of my own humiliation. I'm thinking about the hundreds of folks who are looking forward to that weekend.
"The festival can still happen. Your vendors are real. Your plans are solid. We just need to separate what's yours from what's his and let the Feds handle the rest."
I look down at the pages spread across the desk.
Months of work and planning and sleepless nights, and this man I trusted was hollowing it out from the inside the entire time.
I think about how many times I stood next to Dorsey and thanked him for his generosity while he was threading his operation through every seam of my event.
It makes my eyes burn with tears, and I never see Luke leaning in until his lips brush mine.
He kisses me softly and I relax under his touch.
“Luke,” I whisper against his mouth, not sure how to respond. The vulnerability I feel is so powerful, I almost want to run away. But isn't this what I want? To let him have me when I'm most open so I know he's really here for me?
He deepens the kiss, tongue sliding against mine. His hands grip my hips and guide me until I'm seated on the edge of the desk. Papers crinkle beneath me.
"Hannah, I want you,” he murmurs in a low rumble that vibrates my chest.
I spread my legs so he can step between them. The hard press of his body feels so good I sigh into his mouth. My fingers bunch his T-shirt, tugging it upward.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to yank it off. “You're not going to run away this time?" he asks, and I find myself smiling.
"No," I whisper. "I promise."
I lift my arms, and he peels my shirt away and drops it behind me. Cool air brushes my skin before his mouth follows to my throat.
“God, you're perfect,” he says, kissing lower.
He sucks my nipple into his mouth. Pleasure sparks and I arch back, bracing my palms on the desk.
“Mmm,” I breathe.
His tongue circles, teasing until I’m trembling. One hand palms my other breast, thumb brushing the tight peak over and over until heat pools low in my belly.
Luke straightens and kisses me again, harder this time. I fumble with his belt, desperate to feel all of him. He helps, shoving his jeans and boxers down until his dick is out, rock hard in my hand and already dripping.
“Touch me,” he groans.
I wrap my hand around him and stroke slowly from base to tip, and his hips twitch forward into my grip.
He pops the button on my jeans. “Lift," he breathes, so I do, raising my hips so he can drag my jeans and panties down. I kick them off, leaving myself completely bare on his desk.
“Look at you,” he says, eyes dark with hunger. “God, you're gorgeous."
His fingers glide through my folds, circling my clit, and I moan and spread wider for him. Two thick fingers push inside, curling just right.
“Luke—yes,” I gasp.
He pumps them steadily, thumb stroking my clit in tight circles, and pleasure builds fast and hot. I stroke his cock faster, matching his rhythm.
“I want to be inside you so bad,” he murmurs against my neck, nipping the skin.
He pulls his fingers free and licks them. I whimper at the empty feeling but then the blunt head of his cock nudges my entrance, rubbing up and down my slick folds. It makes me shudder to feel how much he wants me.
“Eyes on me, Hannah. I want to watch you take me.”
I meet his gaze as he pushes in. The stretch is slow and perfect, inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt and we both groan at the same time.
“You feel so good,” I whisper, clenching around him.
He holds still for a heartbeat, letting me adjust, then starts to move—deep, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside me.
He grips my hips tighter and gives me what I want.
His pace quickens, each stroke hitting deeper as I wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in.
“Like that?” he asks, voice strained with effort. “Tell me how it feels.”
“So deep. Don’t stop,” I pant.
Papers slide off the desk and flutter to the floor as he drives into me. Sweat slickens our skin where we press together. I clutch his shoulders, nails pressing into muscle.
He leans down and kisses me messily. “You’re squeezing me so tight. It feels incredible.”
I clench around him on purpose and he groans and thrusts harder, grinding against me with every stroke. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my core.
One hand slips between us and his thumb finds my clit and rubs firm, steady circles.
“Oh, God, Luke!”
I come hard, pulsing around his cock in waves as heat crashes through me again and again. He keeps moving, drawing it out until I’m shaking and gasping.
“That’s it. Let go for me,” he murmurs, kissing my temple.
He lifts my leg higher over his arm, opening me wider. The new angle makes him hit even deeper.
“Fuck, Hannah. You feel so good when you come like that.”
His rhythm turns ragged as the desk rocks beneath us with every thrust. I hold onto him tightly, lost in the slick heat and the way he fills me so completely.
He buries himself deep with a low, guttural groan. His cock throbs hard inside me as he starts to come, hot pulses flooding me again and again. He grinds against me through every spurt, breathing hard against my neck.
I might be foolish to believe it, but I think Luke Maddox might just be the one. I don't know how, and I can't understand it, but no one makes me feel the way he does.
And I have no way to explain it to my parents or the rest of this town.