“Weren’t you afraid to confront them?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He shrugged, pressing his hand gently into hers on the countertop. “Afraid? No. Maybe cautious. With this many people around, I didn’t think they’d make a scene, and I knew I wasn’t going to.”
Skylar exhaled, a soft rush of breath. “I just want to go home, lock the door, sink onto my sofa, and stare at it until morning.”
Rawley’s fingers tightened reassuringly. “You can’t let them see that you’re scared. They’ll feed on it, and that only makes things worse.”
She swallowed the knot in her throat. “I’ll try.”
“Alright, baby. I’ll get back to work.” He glanced toward the kitchen, where Connie emerged carrying a white paper bag. The sizzling fryers and clattering dishes mingled with low chatter as Connie set the bag on the counter and slid it toward them.
“Anything else, hon?” Connie asked, her voice warm with the familiar lilt.
“Skylar’s coffee,” Rawley said, fishing a credit card from his wallet. He handed it over; Connie swiped it, then watched him add a generous tip before he signed with a flourish. He tore off the receipt and tucked it away without a glance.
Rawley stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Skylar forced a small smile at Connie and walked out the door as Rawley held it open for her. A blast of hot air hit her face as she stepped out.
They crossed the cracked asphalt of the parking lot under the hot sun. Skylar’s SUV sat a few rows down, its metallic gray doors gleaming in the light. She unlocked it, leaned against the door and faced him, heart thudding in her ears.
“I’m sorry you had to be part of that,” Rawley said softly, concern in his dark eyes.
She shook her head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s my job.”
“It’s dangerous,” she whispered, glancing toward the edges of the lot as if the shadows might be watching.
Rawley leaned one broad shoulder against her SUV, standing so close she felt the heat from his body. “Do you want to stop seeing me?”
Her pulse skipped. “What?”
A wry half-smile curved his lips. “I’ve had this conversation before. Some women can’t handle it.”
Skylar’s breath caught. “Of course, I don’t want to stop. I just… I’ll worry every second you’re out there.”
“I’m always careful,” he promised, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed away a trace of tension. “I don’t want us to end, but this is who I am. You have to accept that, or there can’t be a future.”
She nodded, eyes shining. “I know. I’ll do my best.”
He stepped back, opening her driver’s door. “That’s all I can ask.” She slid inside.
Skylar looked up at him. “If I see them, if they follow me—”
“Call me. Immediately. And don’t drive off. Turn around and park in the courthouse lot. The sheriff’s department is there too.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
He leaned in, brushing his lips to hers in a soft, steady kiss. “Be safe,” he murmured, then straightened and pushed the door closed.
Skylar started the engine, shifted into reverse and watched Rawley’s silhouette recede. She pulled onto Main Street and drove off as she scanned each passing car, every shadow, her heart still beating fast.
****
The corridor’s harsh fluorescent bulbs hummed overhead as Rawley stepped inside the department. He removed his hat and hung it on the rack behind his desk. Striding past rows of desks, his boot heels clicked against linoleum until he reached Dave’s office. He rapped on the glass door. Dave looked up from a cluttered desk, coffee mug in hand, and waved him in.
Rawley pushed the door open and slid into the wingback chair.
