Page 18 of Cold Case Murder Mystery

But it didn’t matter.

Because she wasn’t his. Never would be again.

So, he nodded. “I know.”

Chapter Six

Brooke was glad to have the time to drive back to her rental cabin in the car by herself. It allowed her the opportunity to breathe, to center herself, and to accept she’d made the right decision.

Sure, it reminded her too much of four years ago when she’d been working on a case for North Star and had come under some threats from the murderer she’d been close to putting behind bars. When the handsome North Star operative had been assigned to her, and their wholethinghad started.

The serious man who’d smiled like it was just for her. Who’d flirted with her before the danger. And then he’d protected her. She’d fallen in love with him. Quick and easy, so convinced it was meant to be. There’d been a bubble of time where she’d believed that was it. Love would win the day.

Ha. Ha.

She also understood now better than back then that his... protection wasn’t about feelings. She’d never considered herself naïve before. She’d had a terrible, eye-opening childhood that had never once had her believing the best in anyone, let alone thatlovewas some great magical thing.

But she’d thought Zeke’s protection hadmeantsomething, because of some strange, warped naïveté inside her. Where people didn’t help, didn’t protect. So the fact he had meant she’d mattered to him.

Now she understood fully. Helping wasn’t only intrinsic to who he was. He’d seen the entire North Star mission as one of protection. Of keeping people safe. It hadn’t had to be aboutherfor him to feel the need to protect. It was just all the things he was made of.

So, hehadto protect her in this moment, regardless of any feelings he might have had or not had for her. Any old attractions that may or may not still exist between them. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t let it matter.

It was just... smart to let him step in and help. And protect. Because she didn’t know what she was up against. And no matter how she liked to fancy herself a survivor, she’d really onlyendured, not necessarilysurvived.Never fought for herself. Or the people she should have fought for.

So she had to remember Zeke protecting her was just... a job. Even if he wouldn’t let her pay him. It was ajobhe was doing. Because she needed help, and he needed to give it.

Brooke repeated that to herself a few times as she parked in front of the rental cabin she’d been so looking forward to staying at. Nestled a little out of town, birdfeeders in the yard and suncatchers in the windows. For almost a month, she’d gotten to live here and pretend it was home while she examined the skeletal remains found on the Brink farm.

If it had been only that, it would have been a nice interlude. But then the remains had been found in the cave. But then she’d felt she was being followed. Butthenshe’d been the person to bring Zeke into it.

Her fault. So it was her responsibility toendureonce again.

Zeke was out of his truck and next to her before she could even fish her keys out of her purse. He held out his hand, like he was expecting her to just hand over the keys to the cabin. Mr. In Charge. Always.

She opened her mouth to argue with him. To tell him she could take care of it. But what a waste of breath. He wanted to protect. She’d be a lot better offlettinghim, rather than fighting him on it.

Will you be better off or are you just hoping it’ll be easier? Survive or endure?

She really wasn’t sure about the answer. Everything was so jumbled up and hypothetical. The only thing she knew for sure was that she could not make the same mistakes she’d made four years ago.

Number one, she wouldn’t read into him wanting to help. Number two, she would have boundaries. Zeke was the expert when it came to safety, so she’d allow him liberties there. Butonlywhen it came to safety.

So, she got her key out and ignored his outstretched hand. She walked up to the door, unlocked it herself, then gestured him inside.

He didn’t frown exactly, but she could read disapproval in the lines of his face. She ignored it.

“Stay,” he said sharply before taking a step inside.

It took Brooke longer than it should have to realize he was talking to the dog. She blinked at Viola then scurried inside to follow Zeke. Because she didn’t need to follow anyone’s orders if she didn’t want to.

It didn’t do thinking about if she wanted to or not.

“Anything seem out of place?” he asked, scanning the small living room and tiny kitchen that were immediately visible.

Brooke didn’t look at first. There’d been a time when no one would have had to ask her that question. When it would have been the first thing she’d do when she walked into a room. Look for what was out of place, brace herself for whatever might be wrong. Rearrange herself accordingly.

But this wasn’t about her childhood in a biker cult. It wasn’t even about one of those disaster foster homes. It was just straightforward danger. The kind she got for looking into dead people.

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