Chapter 21 Dane
DANE
Sunrise is gentle but bright enough to wake me the way it did yesterday morning, this time coming through the curtains and not the mouth of an igloo.
I've been awake for an hour, maybe more, just watching Sloane sleep.
Her auburn hair is spread across the pillow, face relaxed.
And one arm is draped across my chest as her breath dusts my skin.
I can't take my eyes from her face. I love the way her eyes twitch when she's dreaming and the way her lips twitch like she wants to speak to me. My fingers itch to move the strand of hair from her forehead, but I don't want to disturb her.
The realization that I love this woman with everything in me hit me the other night in that snow shelter.
I've been falling for weeks, maybe since the beginning.
I tried telling myself I'd have to send her away, but last night, it became undeniable to me that I can't live without her, and it's terrifying.
I've never been in love before. I've never let anyone close enough to even grow fond of them.
The women in my past were transactions—bodies exchanged for temporary relief with names forgotten by morning.
But Sloane has carved herself into my chest and made herself essential, and the thought of losing her makes my heart stop.
If anything happens to her, I'll lose my mind. I'll go on a rampage that makes my past work for the Ferraros look tame. Cal Maddox would learn firsthand the rage of a man whose heart has been shattered and any person who ever spoke kindly to him would be slaughtered.
The hot, violent thoughts rattle me from the inside out because I know exactly the violence of which I am capable.
And I also know just how uncontrollable that side of me is.
Sloane has become as essential to me as air or water.
I'd kill for her. I'd bleed for her. And I don't think I can let her go anymore, not even to protect her.
But she's so young, not even thirty yet, and she has her whole life ahead of her. What can I offer her? A cabin in the woods? A life looking over our shoulders? The constant fear that my past will catch up with us again? Because it will. I'll never be done running.
She deserves better than any of this, someone who can give her the future she's earned.
Not someone who will spend the rest of their life haunted by things in their past. It took her twelve hours to convince me to come for help.
I'd have been stubborn, sleeping in another makeshift shelter in the woods right now if she hadn't been so damn stubborn. I can’t trust a soul, not even her, and still, she managed to force me.
How would we ever have a normal life?
Would she even want to stay in Sutter's Gap when this is over? Or would she go back to the city? The thought of her leaving, of waking up in that cabin alone after having her there, makes my chest ache.
I don't want to live alone anymore. These past weeks with her have shown me what I've been missing—conversation, companionship.
I've gotten used to having her around me, having someone to wake up to and argue with.
Someone to provide for and protect, and while those things mean different things to different people, to me it's meant a sense of hope and home.
But wanting her to stay and having the right to ask are different things entirely.
With the black stains on my soul, I have no right to ask someone so perfect for anything.
Her eyes flutter open and blink a few times, and she smiles when she sees me watching, a slow, sleepy smile that does dangerous things to my heart.
"G'morning." Her voice is rough with sleep. "How long have you been awake?"
"A while."
She shifts closer, tucking herself against my side. "What are you thinking about? You have that brooding look." She yawns and bites my chest on the exhale.
Any other moment, I'd stay locked in my head and tell her whatever she wanted to hear, but this time, I'm sick of deflecting and hiding. I blurt out my answer before I can think, and before it's fully unloaded, I feel a pang of insecurity that she'll reject me.
"I don't want you to go back to the city." I tuck that damn strand of hair behind her ear and press a kiss to her forehead. "When this is over, when Cal is dealt with… I don't want you to leave. I don’t want to live alone."
She props herself up on one elbow, studying my face. "Live alone, or live without me?"
Her question feels too pointy, like it's cutting away at my ego. Admitting I need her out loud is totally different from knowing it in my gut. I'm a proud man, it's one of the first things I'd admit, but I can’t bring myself to say it.
So I look her dead in the eye and say nothing because I'm an idiot and just saying I love her would be too easy.
It would open a door to a world too dangerous for my heart.
I've killed men with my bare hands, watched them bleed out after my knife sank into their flesh, and I can't bring myself to tell the woman I love that I need her.
"It's me," Ellie calls from the hallway, followed by a soft knock. "I've got breakfast if you're awake."
I slip out of bed, grateful for the interruption, and pull on my boxers. Sloane watches me, and I see the disappointment in her eyes. I've hurt her by not answering. But I don't know how to fix it without making myself more vulnerable than I can handle.
I open the door to find Ellie holding a tray with coffee, toast, and eggs. She's already dressed for the day, hair pulled back, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.
"Figured you two could use some real food." She hands me the tray, and I don't miss the way her eyes sweep over my body with a hint of jealousy in her expression. "I'm heading to the diner for the morning shift. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. Make yourselves at home."
"Thank you, Ellie. I'm gonna pay you back for this." And I don’t mean the food. She's risking herself for us, and that's not something I take lightly.
"Don't thank me yet." She smiles and looks past me over my shoulder where I hear Sloane stirring.
"I'm gonna try sniffing around town, see if I can find other people willing to help without telling them exactly what's going on.
But you two need to stay inside. Keep the curtains closed.
Don't answer the door for anyone." Her expression turns serious.
"Those men in the SUVs are still circling. "
"We'll be careful." Sloane has come to stand beside me, wrapped in a blanket. "God, that looks delicious. Thank you…"
"You're welcome, hon." Ellie's eyes soften. "Oh, I almost forgot. Varen—he stopped by the diner a bit ago. We spoke about you two, but I didn’t tell him you were here. He said to tell you he knows you tried to save Wade at the cabin. He's grateful for that. And he gave me a few packages for you."
She opens the door wider and says, "They came to the post office. I guess Wade took a few to the cabin. I left them on the coffee table." Her shoulder bobs as she says, "I told him I could get them to you and he seems suspicious, but I think he'll help if I give him more information."
I'm not sure what to even think right now. The sheriff was shot in my home, but if Varen knows I didn’t do it, it means Carver was awake enough to tell him what really happened.
And if Ellie is trying to get the deputy involved, we're already in too deep.
I stare at her blankly, not sure what to say, as Sloane thanks her again and takes the tray of food.
"I'll leave you to it." Ellie heads for the front door. "Be safe. And if you need anything, call the diner. I'll come right away."
I stand there gawking, hearing Sloane chewing toast as I think about the mess we're in. I've been hunted by criminals plenty of times, but I've never had to protect anyone other than me at the same time. And now I've dragged Ellie into it too.
"Do you want me to leave?" Sloane asks quietly. "Give you space to deal with the packages?" I turn to see her wearing my T-shirt and her panties.
"No, it's okay." I need her here to anchor me through whatever horrors Cal has sent this time. "This involves you too now."
I jam my legs into my jeans and grab the mug Ellie left me from the tray, then stalk out to the living room with Sloane on my heels. We sit on the couch together as I open the first package slowly, peeling back paper that's already been disturbed by Varen's investigation.
Inside is a small, ornate music box, the kind a child might treasure. The lid is broken, its hinges twisted. And there's unmistakable blood spatter across the front of it.
I know this music box and the woman I was forced to take out.
She wasn't innocent, but she didn't deserve what I did to her.
But even when Sloane's hand finds mine, I can't bring myself to speak about it.
The man I am today isn't the same man I was when I did these things.
I've never felt guilt like this in my life.
"Go ahead," she says, nudging the second package toward me.
This one is a watch. It's an expensive piece that I recognize immediately too. The crystal is shattered, and the hands are frozen at 4:12 PM.
"Fuck…" My voice is hollow as I grunt. I press my eyes closed and feel her hand lightly on my shoulder.
"It's okay, Dane," she whispers, but I know it's not.
I've killed so many, taken lives of people I never knew for crimes they weren't necessarily guilty of.
This one was a car bomb that had multiple casualties, innocent bystanders.
And the one before, she was a mother, even though she was also an embezzler.
And never once did I stop to think of my future or how I'd feel looking back at the wretched things I've done.
"Hey, shh," she says, and I feel her hand on my face. She wipes away moisture, and I realize I'm crying.
"I… I've…."
"It's okay," she tells me again, and she has no understanding.
It's not okay. She shouldn’t say that to me, but her arms wrap around me knowingly and I bite back the tears that want to spring free.
"It's alright. I understand." I can't believe she isn't pulling away or looking at me in disgust. She sees the worst parts about me and she's still here to try to help me.
After a few moments, I take the last package. It's just a padded envelope this time, and I tear it open. This one's different. There's no object inside, just a photograph. But it makes my jaw tighten and Sloane's hand on my arm grip harder.
It's us. Sloane and me at the Halloween party at the diner. We're on the dance floor, her arms around my neck, both of us smiling. Someone caught us in a moment of genuine happiness, and it's obvious looking at the image that whoever took this knew at that moment that Sloane and I weren't siblings.
Sloane's face has been drawn around with a red marker, in the shape of a heart. And across the bottom, written in the same red marker, She's beautiful. It would be a shame if something happened to her.
"Oh, God." Sloane takes the photo from my hands, staring at it. Her hands shake slightly, and that surge of protectiveness makes me pull her against my chest.
"Look at me," I tell her, and I find myself being a little forceful with her so she doesn’t start spiraling. "Look at me now."
Sloane's eyes track up to my face and her skin has gone pale. "Dane—"
"Do not let them intimidate you." My hands grip her harder than they should, but she doesn't wince. "I will never let them touch you. Do you understand?"
Tears well up in her eyes and she shakes her head no, so I pull her against my chest again and kiss her forehead. "I mean it, Grady. You belong to me now and I never let anyone touch what's mine. Okay?"
If ever I had something worth fighting for, it's now. They're not going to send me shit like this, threatening her, and get away with it. I'm not sure how I'm going to fight them. It's basically one man against a small army. But that doesn’t mean I'm backing down.
I may not be the ruthless assassin I once was, but I'm not afraid to slit a man's throat for touching what's mine.
I just hope Sloane still feels the same way about me after she sees the monster inside me rear its ugly head. Because there's no way in hell I'm gonna be able to stop it now.