Page 54 of Found By You
“I know I keep asking,” I said, “but can you remember anything else? Any detail might help.”
She shook her head, tendrils of red hair falling across her face. “No. Just fragments.” She took a small bite of toast, swallowing with effort. “Are we still going to Denver tomorrow?”
“Let’s talk to Dr. Chavez in the morning,” I said, watching her closely. A protective feeling surged within me. I wanted to shield her from everything; the pain in her head, the memories trying to surface, and whatever danger might be following her. “See what he thinks now that you’re starting to remember.”
She let out a light laugh that held no humor. “Well, Iamremembering, even though it’s horrible.” She slid off the stool, setting her barely touched toast on the counter. She moved toward the hallway, her steps slow and measured, then paused, turning back to me. “Thank you, McCrae. I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this.”
Before I knew it, I was moving to her, pulled by something stronger than conscious thought. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her against me.
She resisted for a second, then gave in, sliding her arms around my neck.
Her body felt small and fragile. I could feel her heart beating, fast but steady, against my chest. I loved holding this woman.
The realization was simple and profound.
I loved the way she fit against me, the scent of her hair, the trust implicit in the way she relaxed in my arms despite everything she’d been through.
“McCrae, I shouldn’t be inside your arms.”
But she didn’t move.
I kept her against me. “I’m just holding a friend.”
Even though I knew she was way more to me than that. I knew I would be with her. I would protect her. I would stand between her and danger without hesitation.
She pulled back, blinking rapidly. “Thank you for everything.”
I released her. “Of course.” Get some rest. I’ll be right out here if you need anything.”
She nodded and disappeared down the hallway. I heard the soft click of her bedroom door closing, and then silence.
The house suddenly felt emptier, despite my presence in it.
I picked up the kitchen, then went through the motions of getting ready for bed. I brushed my teeth, the mint taste sharp and clean. I changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. I lay atop the covers in my darkened bedroom, staring at the ceiling. My mind turned over everything from today like a stone being polished by relentless waves. Who had Sky seen killed? Who had been chasing her? Why had she been heading to Colorado?
The ceiling fan rotated lazily above me. After an hour of restless tossing, I gave up. The sheet was tangled around my legs, damp with sweat despite the mild night.
I pulled on a fresh T-shirt and padded to the living room, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. I grabbed my phone and settled on the couch, the leather cool against my skin.
I searched for more details from the accident report Noah had sent from Fremont Canyon. The old springs in the couch creaked as I shifted position, trying to get comfortable despite the tension coiled in my muscles.
There was frustratingly little information, just the basics about a climber who’d fallen, an emergency call from a hiker, and the recovery operation. Nothing about what Sky remembered. Nothing about a murder. Nothing about a womanbeing chased. I rubbed my eyes, trying to force away the fatigue that pulled at me even as my mind raced.
The power went out suddenly, plunging the house into darkness. The fan overhead slowed to a stop. The familiar hum of the air ventilator fell silent. I glanced at the microwave and the normal time stamp was off, the kitchen now dark where before the digital numbers had cast a faint green glow.
Adrenaline surged through me, every sense heightening. The darkness seemed to press in from all sides. I reached for my gun on the coffee table, the weight of it familiar and reassuring in my hand.
My first instinct was to check on Sky, but I didn’t want to wake her if this was just a routine power outage. My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, the furniture becoming shadowy outlines. The entire house felt different without the subtle background noises of electricity—more primitive, more vulnerable.
Then I heard it—a soft noise from outside, near my police cruiser. A scraping sound, faint but unmistakable in the unnatural quiet. My heart rate kicked up another notch, pounding in my ears as I moved silently toward the door. Years of training took over, my body automatically falling into tactical position as I approached the window. Through the darkness, I could make out the silhouette of my cruiser and the open passenger-side door.
Disbelief washed over me, followed quickly by anger. Someone was onmyproperty, invadingmyspace, possibly threatening Sky.
I pulled out my phone and called Damon, keeping my voice low, my eyes never leaving the cruiser. “Someone’s at the house. Power’s out, and my cruiser’s been compromised. No sign of entry to the house yet.”
“I’m on my way,” Damon replied instantly, his voice tight with concern. “Five minutes.”
But there was no chance I was staying inside while a potential threat circled the house. Sky was sleeping just down the hall, unaware and vulnerable. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let anything happen to her.
