Page 93 of Mine to Protect

John pulled a clear baggie from his jacket pocket and slapped it onto Chandler’s extended palm.

“Why haven’t you found this bastard yet?” John’s tone was full of accusation. He turned to focus on Cas. “If you were doing your job, maybe Sadie and Birdie wouldn’t be in danger.”

“I’m an excellent multitasker,” Cas responded with a slight lift of his shoulder. “And we are getting closer to finding this fucker, not that we’d tell you.”

“And until he’s caught,” Chandler cut in, “we’re keeping Birdie here, and I would suggest you get some protection detail for your girl here.”

Sadie’s eyes lit up at Chandler calling her John’s girl. “I think he has that handled,” she said, tucking herself under John’s arm and forcing him to wrap it around her shoulders. “Unlike other people, I’m grateful for his concern.”

I ground my teeth together to keep from lashing out.

“If Birdie is staying here, where’s Benny?” John asked, glancing around the cabin.

Tears welled, but somehow I kept them hidden and maintained my composure.

“Ugh,” Sadie scoffed. “Be glad he’s not here. That dog is mean and judgy. I don’t want him anywhere near me.”

That was enough.

I shoved away from the counter, the stool clattering to the floor as I ran to Cas’s bedroom. Only once the door was closed, my back pressed against the hard wood, did I take a full breath. It was too much. Sadie’s crazy, Benny hurt, Dad threatening to drive up, a killer after me and everyone I knew—all of it.

After hitting the light switch, dousing the room in complete darkness, I carefully shuffled to the bed and fell onto it face first. Sealing my eyes shut, I curled my knees and tucked an arm around my shins.

Their loud voices carried through the door. Grasping a pillow, I shoved it over my ear, blocking out their words.

It didn’t matter. None of this mattered.

I was a dead woman walking.

It was only a matter of time before this guy grew tired of the cat-and-mouse game he was playing and ended it.

With me.

32

Alta

The opposite sideof the bed shifted and creaked. Shortly after, the coolness of the cabin brushed against my hot cheek and ear when the pillow was pulled away. Confident, careful fingers swept through my hair, then skimmed over my forehead and cheek, calming me with each stroke.

“I know you’re awake,” Cas muttered against my shoulder, his hot breath seeping through the thin cotton of my long-sleeve T-shirt. “But you do need to sleep. Want me to run down to the store and get something to help calm you down?”

I shook my head. Pushing up, I pressed both elbows into the mattress to shift around the bed. Tucking an arm around his waist and hooking a leg around his thighs, I snuggled my cheek against his chest.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” I whispered into the dark. “It’s too much, Cas. I can feel my mind slowly shutting down from it all, just like it did ten years ago. I don’t want to go through that again, especially when I almost didn’t get out alive. If I fall into the dark chasm of my mind, I won’t make it out again.”

“Ah,” Cas said into my hair. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Lady. You’re stronger than you think you are. Now is the time you need to remind yourself of who you are, what you’re capable of. You’ve held yourself back, telling yourself you’re safer in the shadows for so long that you’ve forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” I almost begged.

“You’ve forgotten who you are underneath all the paranoia, all the locks and ticks. Those things have defined you for way too long. The Alta I see is stronger than any of those things—hell, stronger than most men I know. But you have to believe it. I can’t do that for you.”

I tapped my middle finger against his breastbone. “You think I’m strong?”

“I do.”

“You think I can survive this?”

“I know you will.”

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