Something flickered in her eyes, “And then prom happened.” She shrugged. “I don’t know how they found us.”
She looked so vulnerable, so afraid, that Nash couldn’t help himself. He moved closer and pulled her into his arms.
She stiffened for a moment before melting against him, her face pressed against his chest, her body trembling slightly. “I can’t help but think Bill’s death is my fault. They probably found me, then tracked me, found Bill … I don’t know.”
“Hey,” he said softly, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. “This isn’t your fault. None of it. You were a child caught in the middle of something.”
She sucked in a long breath, then pulled back. “Do you think it’s all linked together?”
“I don’t know.” Nash pulled her back against him.
She nuzzled into him.
Nash normally wasn’t a hugger but holding Sadie felt as natural as breathing. He could feel her heart racing, the warmth of her breath through his shirt, the subtle scent of her shampoo making him lightheaded.
They stayed that way for a long time, neither speaking, just holding each other as the realization of what they were facing settled around them like a heavy cloak.
“I’ve spent eight years looking over my shoulder,” she murmured against his chest. “I thought I was safe here. I thought I’d finally outrun them. And then Bill …”
Nash’s protective instincts flared. “Youaresafe,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
She pulled back enough to look up at him, a sad smile playing at her lips. “I’m sorry if I find that hard to believe because my father said those same words and it didn’t really work out.”
The words hit him hard. He understood what she was saying—that her father had tried and failed to protect her, that promises of safety could be empty. But something inside Nash rebelled against the comparison.
“I’m not saying this lightly,” he told her, his voice low and intense. “My brothers and I—we’ve faced down people who were after this gold. Dangerous people. We’re still standing. And the Stone family? They’ve been dealing with this even longer. We have resources, connections.”
“FBI connections,” Sadie added with a small nod.
“Exactly.” Nash reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. “Brooks is already looking into the Ferrantes. And now that we know the connection to your father’s case, he can dig deeper.”
She looked unconvinced, but some of the tension seemed to leave her shoulders.
“Plus,” Nash added with a cocky grin, “I’m pretty handy in a fight. Just ask any of my brothers.”
That earned him a tiny smile. “I’ll bet you are.”
His fingers lingered near her cheek, the simple contact sending electricity through him. He’d meant to lighten the mood, but somehow they’d circled back to this intense connection between them.
Finally, Nash broke the silence, his voice low. “So what is your real name?”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “What?”
“Yourrealname,” he repeated. “It’s not Amanda, and it’s not Sadie.”
She shrugged, a small, defeated gesture. “Does it matter? That life is gone.”
“It matters to me,” Nash said, surprised by how much he meant it. “I want to know who you really are.”
She hesitated, studying his face as if weighing what his reaction might be.
The silence stretched between them, filled with the soft strains of some old George Strait song playing from his speakers.
Nash wanted to kiss her. The urge was so powerful it nearly took his breath away. Her lips were inches from his, her eyes wide and vulnerable, her body still pressed close from their embrace. But thinking about everything she’d been through, all the trauma and fear—it didn’t seem right to add to her confusion.
Reluctantly, he moved back a little, creating some space between them. “Look, you don’t have to tell me.”
She cleared her throat. “Amy.”
