Page 16 of Phoenix's Redemption

But damn, my pulse wouldn't steady, and the anxiety refused to let go.

I stepped up the pace on the pavement. Each exhale came out uneven as I failed to calm the stress knotted in my belly. I tried to shake off the sensation of eyes boring into my back, but it clung to me like a second shadow.

I could almost feel the grit beneath my sneakers, each stride pushing me forward. My mind replayed every self-defense drill I learned in the academy. Just in case.

The streetlights cast long shadows that twisted and stretched with my own, warping my perception. Was that one too long? Too broad?

And then, cutting through the cold, I caught a scent. Cigarettes tinged with mint. The combination was odd, distinct, and carried with it ghosts of conversations I had with my sister. "When he mugged us, he smelled like tobacco and candy," Grace would say, usually with a grimace after.

The scent was woven into my memories. That was how he smelled in his holding cell, too. It meant Jack Thornton. It meant danger.

I scanned the darkness for any sign of him. Jack had a reason to come looking for me, after I tried and failed to get more charges put on him. And now, with me poking around, trying to put him away for good...

Forcing my legs to keep moving, I drew in a deep breath. The cool air pressed needles into my lungs.Get home.This was not the time for confrontation, not when I was this exposed.

Somewhere behind me, the feeling lingered that I wasn’t alone.

My thoughts spiraled with each step. Had my past as a cop trained my senses, or was I just jumping at imaginary boogeymen?

The figure loomed in my peripheral vision, and my heart jerked. Without warning, my shoulder collided with something solid. Disoriented, I looked up, ready to fight or flee.

"Watch whe—" My voice broke off as my eyes met those of the figure before me.

Liam's green eyes pierced the dim light, his tall frame between me and the darkness. "Sophie? What are you doing out here by yourself?"

I blinked, trying to slow my pulse, to anchor myself back in the reality that it was Liam, not a tricky felon standing before me.

"Getting groceries," I said, the words tasting like dust on my tongue.

“You should’ve taken a cab home.” He frowned, the shadows playing across his face. The ankle injury had taken its toll. I could tell by the small hitch in his step.

"Why are you here?" I pushed the question out, my voice steady despite the tremor that wanted to break through. "Shouldn’t you be off that ankle?"

"I couldn't let you walk home alone." He brushed off my worry for his own well-being. "Streets aren't safe at night, you know that."

“How did you know it was me?”

"I live close to the store. I thought I saw you leaving. I figured it wasn’t safe for you to be out here on your own."

“You could’ve called me.”

“I did. It went to voicemail.”

I balanced the grocery bag in one arm as I pulled my phone from the pocket of my hoodie. Sure enough, Liam’s missed call was right there on the screen. “Must’ve lost reception in the store.”

“I came out to check on you.” I could feel the pull of his gaze. He stood there, favoring one leg over the other, but his stance was firm.

"Your ankle," I started, but he cut me off with a casual shrug.

"Doesn't matter." The corners of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You getting home safe is what counts."

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. In another life, I might have brushed off his chivalry. But here, now, the concern made me feel seen. Cherished, wanted.

"Thanks.” My gratitude mingled with a new sense of security.

"Let's get you home." Liam took the grocery bag from me and motioned down the street. I nodded, falling into step beside him.

As we walked, our silence was comfortable. Every so often, I’d steal a glance at his profile. His jaw was set, but he had a wince he couldn't quite hide with each step.

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