Page 77 of Beckett
It was probably going to get worse before it got better. I just wanted to take her somewhere where she could rest and heal, but that couldn’t come until we found the bastard hunting her.
Gravel crunched as Coop’s truck pulled up, Aiden riding shotgun. They climbed out with the kind of deliberate calm that meant they were ready for violence if it came looking. Good. After what we’d learned last night, everyone’s threat level had shifted to DEFCON 1.
“Morning, sunshine,” Coop called to Audra, his voice carrying forced cheer. “Nothing a gallon of coffee and three days of sleep won’t fix, right?”
“Make it two gallons,” she admitted, and the honesty of it twisted something behind my ribs. Two weeks ago, she would have smiled and lied.
Aiden moved past us toward the feed storage without a word, already tagging what needed doing. His silence wasn’t unusual, but the way his eyes tracked every shadow, every movement—he was in protection mode.
“I need to see Jet,” Audra said suddenly, urgency coloring her voice.
The moment his name left her lips, we heard him—that desperate whine-bark he’d perfected, high and keening. The sound pulled her forward like a rope around her waist.
My fingers fumbled with the kennel latch, and then Jet erupted out, seventy pounds of German shepherd launching himself at Audra with enough force to stagger anyone. But she dropped to her knees and caught him, her arms locking around his neck as he crashed into her.
The sound she made—half sob, half laugh—carved straight through me. She pressed her face into his fur, and her shoulders shook, whether from crying or relief, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both. Jet wiggled against her, his entire body vibrating with joy, tail creating dust devils in the morning air. He dropped a T-shirt he’d been carrying like it was a precious baby, and his tongue found her face, her ears, her hands, anywhere he could reach, small whimpers escaping him between frantic kisses.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out, the words muffled against his neck. “God, I’m so sorry I tried to leave you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
The scene was heart-wrenching. Coop and Aiden left, giving the reunion a little privacy. Watching them now, I understoodwhat that choice to leave Jet had truly cost her. Her whole body curved around him like he was the center of gravity she’d been missing.
For these few seconds, the haunted look left her eyes. The constant vigilance, the perpetual scanning for threats—it all melted away. She looked young suddenly. Free. Like the woman she might have been if some bastard hadn’t decided to make her his prey.
The transformation was devastating to witness—seeing who she could be when she felt safe, knowing how rare these moments were for her.
“We need to discuss protection,” I said carefully, hating to interrupt but knowing it was necessary. “I know you love him, but Jet isn’t a good choice. Duke or Atlas has combat training. They could?—”
“No.” The word came out sharp and final. She stood, one hand fisted in Jet’s fur. “I know he failed every protection test you gave him. I know he can’t be what you tried to make him. But I want him with me.”
“This is about your safety. A trained dog is the best fortification we can give you. Jet is?—”
“No. This is about survival,” she interrupted, her chin lifting with sudden fire. “But not just physical survival. Mental. Emotional. I need this.” She gestured at Jet, who was pressed against her thigh, gazing up at her like she hung the moon. “I need softness in a world that’s been nothing but hard edges. I need someone who loves me without being programmed to. Can you understand that?”
Christ, could I understand wanting something gentle when everything else cut deep? Yeah. I understood perfectly.
“He stays with you,” I said.
Her breath rushed out. “Really?”
“Yes. Come on. Let’s get you back to your cabin and get you unpacked.”
We walked slowly back to her car that was still parked by the gate, Jet weaving between us, his shoulder brushing Audra’s leg every few steps like he was making sure she hadn’t vanished. The morning sounds of the ranch surrounded us—horses nickering, chickens scratching, Coop’s low whistle as he worked. Normal sounds that felt surreal after last night’s revelations.
Inside her cabin, Jet immediately claimed the spot by the front door, turning three precise circles before collapsing with a satisfied grunt. Audra stood in the middle of the room, looking lost.
“I need to unpack,” she said quietly. “Put everything back where it belongs.”
I understood. Last night, she’d packed to disappear. Now she needed to reclaim this space, make it home again instead of just another temporary stop.
We worked in silence, returning her few belongings to where she’d had them. Each item she placed felt like a small act of defiance against the man who’d driven her to run. When she hung her jacket back on the hook by the door—the last thing—her hands trembled.
“The thought of you being back out there alone makes me want to tear something apart,” I admitted, the words rougher than intended.
She turned to face me, and the tiredness was still there, carved into every line of her body. But underneath it, something else flickered. Need. Raw and undisguised.
“I’ve been alone with this for so long,” she whispered. “But last night, showing all of you what he did to me…” Her hand drifted to her neck. “I thought I’d feel weaker. Instead, I feel… God, Beckett, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in a year.”
“You don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”
