Page 89 of Beckett
My fingers dug into my thighs. More people involved. More people at risk.
“Lucas Everett and Daniel Clark from Resting Warrior Ranch volunteered to help too,” he continued. “We’re setting up twenty-four-hour rotations. Both at Pawsitive and in town.”
The list of people I was putting in danger kept growing—Beckett, then Aiden, Hunter, and Coop, now Lucas and Daniel. How long before one of them paid the price for my presence here? How long before Garnet Bend became just another town I’d destroyed in my wake?
The silence in the SUV felt heavy. We were almost at the kennel now, and I could see the familiar outline of the buildings in the moonlight.
“We need to grab Jet,” Beckett said, pulling up near the dog runs.
I nodded, reaching for the door handle, but his hand caught my arm. Gentle but firm.
“Don’t even fucking think it.”
I turned to look at him, and those eyes—gray as winter storms—pinned me in place.
“Whatever’s going through your head right now, get it out. You’re not leaving. This isn’t your fault.”
“Beckett—”
“No.” His grip tightened slightly. “The stalker is at fault here. Not you. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t cause this.”
“But you nearly drowned. Everyone’s lives are disrupted?—”
“We’re fighting him together, Audra. Together. That means all of Warrior Security, not just you and me. We’ve dealt with threats before. We know what we’re doing.”
The certainty in his voice made something crack inside my chest. After months of running alone, months of carrying thisburden by myself, hearing him saytogetherfelt like being offered water in the desert.
He released my arm and got out, moving around to my side before I could even unbuckle. Always protecting. Always watching. Even after everything that had happened tonight.
Jet came bounding over the moment we approached his kennel, tail wagging, my shirt still held in his mouth, pressing his whole body against the chain link in greeting. Beckett let him out, and the German shepherd immediately pressed against my legs, sensing my distress the way he always did.
“Come on,” Beckett said quietly. “Let’s get back to the cabin.”
The short drive to the cabin felt longer in the darkness. Every shadow could hide a threat, every rustle of wind through trees could be him watching. But Jet’s warm weight against my leg in the truck helped ground me, and Beckett’s solid presence beside me made me feel less alone than I had in months.
Inside the cabin, I sank onto the couch while Beckett checked the locks, the windows, his movements efficient and thorough. Jet stayed pressed against my legs, his brown eyes watching me with that uncanny awareness dogs had.
“You should try to get some sleep,” Beckett said, but I shook my head.
“I can’t. Not after…” I gestured vaguely at everything.
He studied me for a long moment, then moved to sit in the chair across from me. Not on the couch beside me, giving me space while still being close. Understanding me in a way that made my chest ache.
“All right,” he said quietly. “Then we’ll talk.”
“About what?”
“About why you shouldn’t blame yourself.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Can I tell you something? About my last deployment?”
I nodded. This wasn’t just a story.
“I’ve told you a little bit about Miguel Rodriguez. But not everything.”
Jet moved from my legs to lie between us, as if he knew Beckett needed the comfort too. The dog’s breathing was the only steady sound in the room.
“It was supposed to be my last mission before rotating home.” He shrugged, though nothing about the gesture was casual. “I’d never lost anyone under my command. Not once in my entire career. Perfect record.”
His hands clenched and unclenched. He stood abruptly, paced to the window, then back. The restless energy rolling off him made the small cabin feel even smaller. The floorboards creaked under his feet, a lonely sound that emphasized the weight of what he was sharing.
