Chapter 5
ANDI
Morning light filters through the hotel room curtains, and I wake disoriented.
For a moment I don't know where I am. Then yesterday comes rushing back: the intruder in my bedroom, Devlin clearing my cottage with Duke, the late-night conversation where we both admitted we're terrified of loss.
All of it presses in, weight trying to keep me in this bed where at least I'm safe.
But hiding won't catch whoever is doing this. Work won't get done from a hotel room. My life won't move forward if I let fear control my choices.
I shower, dress in clean clothes from the bag I packed in a panic last night and open my door to find Devlin right outside.
He's sitting on the floor, back against the wall, Duke's head resting on his thigh.
Both of them are awake and alert despite the uncomfortable position they've maintained all night.
"You stayed out here all night."
"Told you I would." He stands, Duke rising with him, both stretching muscles that clearly protest hours on the floor. "How'd you sleep?"
"Better than you, apparently." Guilt twists through me. He spent the night on cold tile while I had a bed. "You could have taken the chair inside. Or gone back to your own quarters."
"I was exactly where I needed to be." His tone leaves no room for argument. "Breakfast?"
The food court is already busy with the morning rush when we arrive. People stare as we move through the line. The wildlife specialist with her K9 bodyguard. Speculation and gossip are probably running wild by now, but I hold my head high and pretend I don't care what anyone thinks.
We eat in relative silence, though Duke gets plenty of attention from Devlin's hand feeding him bits of bacon. The quiet comfort of it soothes some of the jagged edges left by last night's terror.
"I need to work today," I say, pushing eggs around my plate. "Real work. Not hiding in hotel rooms or offices. I have field surveys scheduled, and the habitat modifications need monitoring."
"Then we'll do field surveys." Devlin drains his coffee. "You're not doing anything alone, but you're also not stopping your life because some asshole wants you scared."
The fact that he understands, that he's not trying to wrap me in bubble wrap and lock me away, makes breathing easier. I'm not helpless. I'm not giving up. I'm just accepting that having backup doesn't make me weak.
We spend the morning in the wetlands, and the work grounds me in familiar rhythms. Devlin asks intelligent questions, Duke explores the marsh edges, and for stretches of time I almost forget why they're really here. Almost forget that someone wants me gone badly enough to invade my home.
By afternoon, exhaustion pulls at me despite the hotel bed. Adrenaline crash combined with restless sleep leaves me functioning but fragile. When Devlin suggests we head back to base early, I don't argue.
"I have a shift at the diner tonight," I say as we load my equipment into the truck. "Mom's expecting me."
"Then we'll go to the diner with you." He closes the truck bed, already calculating logistics in his expression. "Duke and I can grab a snack."
Pine Valley's diner feels like sanctuary when we arrive that evening. Familiar smells, familiar faces, Mom's commanding presence behind the counter. This is my safe space, the place where I'm just Andi helping her mother, not the stalking victim or the woman whose cottage was broken into.
Mom spots Devlin and Duke immediately, her sharp gaze assessing everything in seconds. She shows them to the same corner booth they occupied before, the one with clear sightlines to the whole restaurant and both exits. Military training might fade, but some instincts stay sharp.
I slip into my apron and fall into the rhythm of taking orders, delivering food, refilling coffee. Between customers, Mom watches me with that particular intensity she reserves for when she knows something I haven't figured out yet.
During a lull, she corners me at the coffee station. "That man hasn't taken his eyes off you since you walked in."
"He's doing his job, Mom."
"Honey, I've seen men do their jobs. That's not what's happening in that booth." She refills her own coffee cup, casual but pointed. "That man looks at you like you're water and he's been crossing the desert."
My face flushes. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?" Mom's smile is knowing. "Because from where I'm standing, you look at him the same way. Like maybe you're thirsty too."
"Mom." My protest comes out weak even to my own ears.
"I'm just saying, sweetheart. Tyler wouldn't want you to stop living.
He loved you enough to want you happy, even if that happiness comes after he's gone.
" She squeezes my shoulder, her touch gentle.
"Don't use grief as an excuse to stay lonely.
That man out there? He sees you. Really sees you. That's rare."
"What about you?" I ask. "You never remarried after Dad died. You've been alone for twelve years."
Mom's expression softens, quiet for a moment.
"I thought about it. Dated a few men over the years.
But I realized something, honey. Your father was the love of my life.
That kind of love, it doesn't come twice for everyone.
" She cups my cheek. "But you're young. You have so much life ahead of you.
And what you had with Tyler was beautiful, but it doesn't mean you can't have something beautiful again. Different, maybe. But just as real."
Her words make it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. "What if I can't do it again, Mom? What if I let someone in and lose them too?"
"Then you'll survive it, because you're strong enough. Because you're my daughter and O'Rourke women don't break, we bend." She lets her hand drop. "But don't choose loneliness because you're afraid of loss. That's not living, sweetheart. That's just hiding."
I don't know what to say to that, so I focus on wiping down the counter that doesn't need wiping. Mom lets me have the silence, then heads back to the register to handle a customer checking out.
But her words linger, joining yesterday's late-night confessions and this morning's realization that Devlin slept on a floor rather than leave me unprotected. He does see me. And somewhere between the stalking and the protection detail and Duke claiming me as pack, I started seeing him too.
The diner is closed as my shift ends, and exhaustion pulls at my bones. The past few days have piled up, weight I'm struggling to carry. As we head out into the parking lot, full darkness has settled over Pine Valley, the streetlights casting pools of amber light across the asphalt.
Devlin walks beside me toward my truck, Duke between us. I'm fishing my keys from my pocket when Duke stops abruptly, his entire body going rigid. His ears snap forward, nose working the air, and then he sits. Hard. Immediate. Every muscle tense.
Devlin's hand shoots out, grabbing my arm and yanking me back before I can take another step. "Don't move."
"What's wrong?"
"Duke's alerting." His voice is deadly calm, the kind of calm that comes from combat experience. "That's his trained response for explosives."
Fear slams through me. Explosives. On my truck. Someone planted a bomb.
Duke hasn't moved from his alert position, sitting perfectly still about ten feet from my truck, his focus locked on the vehicle. Devlin pulls out his phone with one hand while keeping his other on my arm, backing us both away slowly.
"This is Master Sergeant Porter. I need EOD at Pine Valley Diner immediately. K9 positive alert for explosives on a civilian vehicle." He rattles off the address, his voice still carrying that controlled calm. "Suspect device may be attached to ignition system. Area needs to be cleared."
EOD. Explosive Ordnance Disposal. A bomb squad. Someone tried to blow me up.
Devlin's arm wraps around my waist before my legs can buckle, holding me upright. "Breathe, Andi. Just breathe."
"They tried to kill me." My voice sounds hollow, not quite mine. "Someone put a bomb on my truck."
"And Duke caught it." His voice is fierce now, protective rage bleeding through control. "Because he's trained for this. Because I don't take chances with your safety. Because whoever is doing this underestimated what we're capable of."
Duke remains in his alert position, the perfect working dog, not breaking until given the all-clear command. I focus on his discipline, on Devlin's arm supporting my weight, on the fact that I'm alive because Duke smelled explosives before I could turn the ignition.
Mom stops as she locks up the diner, drawn by our stationary position and Devlin's phone call. "What's happening?"
"Don't come any closer, ma'am." Devlin's command voice stops her mid-step. "Duke alerted to explosives. EOD is en route."
Mom's face goes pale, then hardens into fury. "They tried to kill you. In my parking lot. After you worked a shift at my diner." She stays where she is but her hands clench into fists. "You're not going back to that cottage. Not until they catch whoever is doing this."
Within minutes, the parking lot fills with emergency vehicles.
EOD arrives in their specialized truck, two technicians in protective gear approaching my vehicle with equipment while the rest of us are moved to a safe perimeter.
Devlin keeps his arm around me, and Duke presses against my other side, both of them keeping me grounded through the chaos.
The senior EOD tech approaches after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes. His expression is grim. "Small IED wired to the ignition system. Would have detonated when the vehicle started. Your K9's alert saved her life, Master Sergeant."
"Composition?" Devlin asks, his military mind already analyzing.
"Military-grade materials. Whoever built this had training and access." The tech glances at me. "You're lucky to be alive, ma'am. That device was designed to kill."