She turned to Dasher.“You don’t think they’d do something in broad daylight, do you?”Ellie had to ask.
Dasher shook his head.“Not their style.They like to rattle cages first.Show up, sniff around.Make folks uneasy.”
“Well, it’s working,” she muttered.
His eyes softened.“You don’t need to be scared.I’m not going anywhere.”
That was the problem.Her traitorous heart leapt at the sound of those words.
As much as she hated how he’d shut her out, as much as she told herself to move on, a part of her kept looking for him in the crowd.Kept noticing when he stood a little too close or handed her a mug of coffee without asking how she took it—because he remembered.
And now, seeing him like this—serious, protective, focused—brought her right back to the days when she used to ride behind him, trusting him with her whole world.
“You didn’t have to stick around, you know,” she said quietly.
“I wanted to,” he replied, equally soft.
Their eyes locked.The air crackled with tension.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to make up for something,” she said, her voice tight.
“I’m not trying to fix the past, Ellie.I know I can’t.”He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell the leather and pine on his jacket.“But I’m not gonna pretend that night didn’t mean anything.”
She blinked.Her throat felt too tight to speak.
“Whatever you think of me now,” he said, voice low, “I never stopped giving a damn.”
Ellie swallowed hard.“Then why did you pull away?”
Dasher’s jaw clenched, but before he could answer, the sound of laughter echoed from the back hallway, volunteers returning from lunch.The moment shattered, and the guarded mask slipped back into place on his face.
“It’s complicated,” he said.“But I’m here now.That counts for something.”
Ellie turned away before he could see how much that stung.
She spent the rest of the day keeping her distance, directing volunteers, sorting toy bins, and avoiding his eyes.But every now and then, she caught a glimpse of him watching her.Not with expectation or frustration.With regret and something else.Something that made her knees weak and her heart ache.
That night, long after the volunteers had gone home and the last crate was packed away, Ellie locked up the hall and stepped into the cold.Snow was starting to fall again, fat flakes swirling in the golden glow of the streetlamp.
She felt it before she saw him.Dasher leaning against his bike at the edge of the lot, helmet in one hand.
“You want a ride?”he asked.
Ellie hesitated.Everything inside her wanted to say yes.
But she shook her head.“I’ll walk.I need the air.”
Dasher nodded but didn’t leave.Didn’t start his bike.Just stood there, watching her go, like he didn’t want to turn his back first.
Ellie didn’t look back, but she felt him there.The weight of what they were.What they still could be and what they might lose again.
****
The Red Hounds weresloppy.That was the only reason Dasher even had a shot at catching up to the stolen truck.
He crouched beside his bike at the edge of an abandoned gas station, engine still warm beneath him, the scent of snow and diesel thick in the air.The Red Hounds had ditched the stolen truck behind the old place, maybe planning to strip it later or transfer the goods into a different vehicle.Either way, they hadn’t expected someone to come after it so fast.That was their mistake.
Dasher clenched his hands into fists inside his gloves, rage simmering beneath his skin.They had taken Ellie’s truck.Her toys.The ones she’d spent weeks gathering, prepping, counting down like every piece mattered.Because it did matter to her, to the kids, to the entire damn town.
