Chapter 8
DEVLIN
Duke and I move through my quarters with tactical precision, my sidearm holstered, his training kicking in the moment I give him the alert command.
Someone photographed Andi and me on my back porch last night.
Watched us. Documented the moment before our first kiss.
And they did it without Duke alerting, which means they were positioned far enough away to avoid detection but close enough to get clear images.
Professional equipment, planning, and patience.
This isn't harassment or escalating anger.
This is calculated stalking by someone who knows what they're doing.
I clear the interior of my quarters first, Duke's nose working corners and shadows.
Nothing. We move to the back porch where Andi and I sat last night, and I scan the tree line beyond my small yard.
Base housing backs up to a wooded area that provides natural separation between residential and training facilities.
The setup is good for privacy but not so good for security.
Duke's already moving toward the tree line, his body language shifting to alert. I follow him, my hand on my weapon, eyes scanning for movement or threat. He stops at a large oak about halfway between my porch and the main tree line, his attention fixed on something in the branches.
I look up and there it is. A small camera, weatherproof housing, positioned to have clear line of sight to my back porch. Professional grade, not some cheap surveillance equipment. I pull out my phone and call base security, watching the camera while Duke maintains his position below the tree.
Captain Nelson answers on the second ring. "Porter. What've you got?"
"Camera in the tree line behind my quarters. Clear view of my back porch. That's where last night's photo was taken." I give him the coordinates. "I need forensics out here now. And I want to know who had access to this area in the past week."
"On it. Don't touch anything." Nelson pauses. "How's Miss O'Rourke?"
"Secure in my quarters." For now. But whoever is doing this knows where she is. Knows where I live. Knows we're together. "This changes the threat assessment. They're escalating."
"Agreed. I'm escalating to full investigation. We're bringing Hutchins in today, warrant or not. This has gone too far."
I end the call and look at Duke, who's still focused on the camera. "Good boy. Let's get back to Andi."
We return to find her dressed in yesterday's clothes, sitting on my couch with her knees pulled up. The protective part of me wants to lock her in here where I can control the environment, but I know Andi well enough to know she'd fight that strategy.
"I found a camera." I lock the door behind me, engaging the deadbolt. "Professional equipment, positioned for clear view of the porch. Forensics is on the way."
"So someone really was watching." Her voice is steady. "They saw everything."
"They saw us sitting on the porch. Nothing more." I cross to the couch, Duke following. "But they know we're together now."
"And?" She looks up at me, direct and challenging. "How does that change anything?"
"It doesn't change my ability to keep you safe.
" I lean against the back of the couch. "You're safer here on base with me than you were alone in that cottage.
But whoever is doing this is getting bolder.
The camera, the photo, the message. They're losing control, which makes them more dangerous and more likely to make mistakes. "
The knock on my door signals forensics has arrived. Duke's on his feet immediately, alert but not aggressive. I check the peephole. Captain Nelson with a forensics team.
I let them in, and for the next hour, my quarters become a crime scene. They recover and process the camera, dust for prints, document everything. Nelson pulls me aside while they work.
"Hutchins is being brought in for interrogation now. We're going through his phone records, his vehicle, his quarters." Nelson keeps his voice low. "But I'm going to be honest with you, Porter. Without concrete evidence linking him directly to the incidents, we might not be able to hold him long."
"What about the camera?"
"No prints. Positioned with clear knowledge of surveillance blind spots. Professional work." Nelson's jaw tightens. "His lawyer's already crying harassment. Unless we catch him in the act or find definitive proof, we're looking at a release."
The frustration hits like a physical blow. "So he walks."
"For now. But we're building the case. Enough circumstantial evidence will add up." Nelson closes his notebook. "Keep her close, Porter. If Hutchins is released, he might make a move."
The forensics team finishes and leaves, taking the camera as evidence. Nelson promises updates as soon as Hutchins' interrogation is complete. Then it's just Andi, Duke, and me again.
"They might not be able to hold him," I tell her, because she deserves to know. "Not enough concrete evidence."
"So we wait for him to try again?" Her voice is calm, practical. "That's the plan?"
"The plan is keeping you safe while security builds their case." I move to where she's standing by the window. "You stay here today. Let them process the interrogation. Tomorrow we figure out next steps."
"Okay." She turns to face me. "Your bed, not the guest room. We're not pretending last night didn't happen."
"Wasn't planning on it." I pull her close, needing the contact. Reassurance she's here and safe.
She rests her head against my shoulder, and Duke leans against both our legs.
The day passes slowly. I coordinate with my K9 unit via phone and email, review security protocols, check in with Nelson twice for updates on Hutchins' interrogation.
Andi works on her laptop, catching up on reports and data analysis she couldn't complete in the field.
Normal work, normal routines, pretending we're not waiting for news about whether the man stalking her will be charged or released.
By afternoon, Nelson calls with the update I was dreading. "We had to cut him loose. Insufficient evidence for formal charges. Everything's circumstantial. His lawyer threatened lawsuits if we held him longer."
"When did he walk?" I'm already calculating timelines, threat assessments.
"Fifteen minutes ago. We've got surveillance on him, but Porter—he knows we're watching. If he makes a move, it'll be calculated."
"Understood." I end the call and find Andi in the kitchen making coffee. "Hutchins was released."
Her hand stills on the coffee pot. "When?"
"Fifteen minutes ago. Security has surveillance on him, but we need to stay alert." I move closer, wanting to be within reach. "You stay here. Don't go anywhere alone."
"I won't." She pours two cups, hands me one. "We knew this might happen."
Her calm acceptance doesn't quite hide the tension in her shoulders. She's scared but refusing to show it. I respect that, even as the protector in me wants to wrap her in bubble wrap and lock the doors.
The rest of the afternoon bleeds into evening.
Andi's been quiet since the news about Hutchins, processing everything in her own way.
I recognize the signs of someone running on adrenaline who's about to crash.
She's been strong all day, practical and focused, but the tension is there in her shoulders, in the way she keeps checking the windows.
"I'm going to take a shower." She stands from the couch where she's been reviewing work schedules. "Try to wash off this entire day."
"Good idea." She heads down the hallway, Duke following her to the bathroom door before returning to settle at my feet.
I try to focus on the security reports spread across my coffee table, but my mind keeps wandering to Andi in my shower.
The water running over her skin. The steam filling the small bathroom.
The fact that after everything that happened today, she's still here.
Still choosing to stay with me instead of running from the danger.
Duke lifts his head, looking at me with those knowing eyes. "Yeah, buddy. I know."
I stand, moving down the hallway. The bathroom door isn't locked. I knock once. "Andi?"
"Come in." Her voice carries over the sound of running water.
I open the door, steam billowing out. Through the frosted glass of the shower door, I can see her silhouette. "You okay?"
"No." Honest and direct. "Someone's stalking me. They photographed us last night. Hutchins is out there somewhere, and we both know he's planning something. And I'm exhausted and wired at the same time and I can't shut my brain off."
I strip off my clothes and open the shower door. She turns to face me, water streaming down her body, her hair loose and wet instead of in its usual braid. Beautiful and fierce and completely unguarded.
"Let me help with that." I step in, closing the door behind me.
She comes to me immediately, her mouth finding mine under the spray of hot water.
This kiss is different from last night's exploratory passion.
This is need and release and the desperate reassurance that we're both still here, still alive, still capable of feeling something other than tactical fear.
I back her against the tile wall, the water cascading over both of us. My hands find her hips, lifting her, and she wraps her legs around my waist with practiced ease. No hesitation, no question about what we both need right now.
"You're sure?" I manage, even though holding back is costing me.
"Stop asking and just take what we both want." Her nails dig into my shoulders. "I need you, Devlin. Right now. Hard and fast and enough to make me forget about cameras and stalkers and tomorrow."
I enter her in one thrust, and the sound she makes echoes off the tile walls. She's already wet and ready, her body welcoming mine with urgent heat. I set a punishing rhythm, my hands gripping her hips, her back braced against the wall.
"Yes." She gasps against my neck, her teeth finding my shoulder. "Just like that. Don't stop."