Page 18 of Torgash

"I'm not here to challenge anyone. My job is simple. Separate the truth from the lies and make sure the right side wins." I set my mug down carefully.

"Tall order." Savvy's expression softens fractionally. "Maybe too tall for one person to handle alone."

The diner's energy shifts as someone enters. I don't need to look to know who it is. Conversations drop to murmurs, bodies turning slightly toward the door.

Ash.

I keep my gaze on my coffee, but every cell in my body seems to reorient itself toward him. Toward the space he occupies. Toward the gravity he creates just by existing.

Savvy watches my reaction, something like understanding dawning across her face. She stands, smoothing her apron. "Just be careful, Sheriff. People who get caught between powerful men in this town tend to get hurt."

She heads for the counter where Ash waits, his back to my booth. Savvy claps him on the shoulder, leans in to say something. He nods.

Helen emerges from the kitchen with a to-go cup, sliding it across the counter to Ash. Their brief exchange reinforces what I already know—he belongs here. He's earned his place in this community. I'm the outsider, badge or no badge.

Not once does he turn toward my booth. Not once does he acknowledge my presence.

The dismissal should sting, but it doesn't. After what Helen just told me, he's being smart. People are watching, and he's giving them nothing to see. I can respect that, even if part of me wishes things were different.

I drop cash on the table and stand, gathering my jacket and keys. If I have to pass him on my way out, I'll do the same and act like he's just another citizen going about his business.

But as I move toward the door, he turns, and for the briefest moment, our stares lock.

Recognition slams through me. Awareness. Heat that has nothing to do with the coffee and everything to do with the way he's looking at me.

Then it's gone, his attention returning to Savvy as if I never existed.

The hollow feeling in my chest catches me off guard, but I push through the door into the morning air, breathing deep.

I make it three steps toward my cruiser before the diner door swings open behind me.

"Sheriff."

His voice stops me short, deep as a well, rough as gravel. I turn slowly, keeping my expression neutral despite my pulse picking up.

Ash stands on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, shoulders tense beneath his cut. The morning sun highlights the scar cutting through his eyebrow and the sharp line of his jaw.

"We need to talk," he says.

I glance back at the diner, then at him. "Smart move back there. Helen says people are watching."

Ash glances back at the diner windows, where faces suddenly find reasons to look our way. "Not here."

Without waiting for a response, he turns and heads for the alley beside the building. Ash stops when we're hidden from view, turning to face me.

"What's on your mind?" I ask.

"What was that look about?" He steps closer, using his size to crowd the narrow space between us. His words are low and rough, those amber eyes lock on mine with an intensity that makes my pulse jump. "Town meeting. You froze up there and found my face in the crowd. What happened?"

Heat crawls up my throat. "I got through the speech, didn't I?"

"That's not what I asked." His stare doesn't leave mine. "You were drowning up there for a second. Then you looked at me and everything changed."

"Does it matter?" I cross my arms, matching his directness. "You got what you wanted. I dropped that bomb on Royce in front of the whole town. Made it public so he can't handle it quietly."

"What I wanted?" Something dangerous flickers in his expression. "You think I wanted you putting yourself in his crosshairs?"

"I think you wanted Royce exposed. Mission accomplished." I shrug, refusing to let him see how his intensity affects me. "So what's the problem?"

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