Hannah searched his face for a long moment.
Then, finally—she nodded.
Jake's chest eased—just a little. Just enough to know he'd done something right.
But it wasn't enough.
She thought she had to do this by herself. That no one was coming to help. That no one would fight for her.
Bullshit.
Jake exhaled slowly, forcing his fists to unclench. He wanted to hunt down Michael Harrison and make damn sure he never looked in Hannah's direction again. But that wasn't what she needed from him. Not right now.
She needed someone to keep watch. Someone to make sure the next brick didn't come flying through the window when she was standing in front of it.
Someone who would protect her—even if she never asked him to.
His hands curled into fists. He should have seen this coming. Should have known someone like Harrison wouldn't let things go.
Hannah shook out the dustpan over the trash, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't going to leave. Wasn't going to back down.
And neither was he.
Jake knew what he had to do.
He was staying.
The town could turn its back on her. The cops could drag their feet. But Jake wasn't leaving. He didn't give a damn if she never forgave him. He didn't care if she didn't want his help.
She needed it.
And he needed her safe.
Hannah exhaled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face before picking up her broom again. He could see the exhaustion pulling at her, the weight of everything pressing down on her shoulders.
Jake forced himself to step back, to move toward the door. If she caught him looking at her like this—like he was making an unspoken vow to keep her safe no matter what—she'd tell him to leave.
So he didn't say a word. He just turned, walked outside, and started planning. Michael Harrison had made a mistake tonight.
Jake wasn't going anywhere.
Jake stoodin the pre-dawn darkness outside Sugar & Spice, watching Hannah through the window as she swept up glass. His hands were still shaking with rage—at Michael, at himself for not preventing this, at the whole damn situation.
A Crystal Lake PD cruiser pulled up, and Officer Luke Bennett stepped out.
Of course they'd sent Bennett.
All clean-cut professionalism and small-town golden boy charm. The kind of guy the town actually trusted.
"Cooper." Bennett nodded as he passed, his hand already on the bakery door.
Jake grunted in response, staying in the shadows. Through the window, he watched Bennett take Hannah's statement, saw the way she wrapped her arms around herself, the exhaustion in her shoulders.
Bennett was good at his job—thorough, professional. He photographed the damage, documented everything carefully. Probably went home at night with a clear conscience, knowing he'd done everything by the book.
Jake's jaw clenched.
Someone like Bennett would never let the woman he loved be looked down on by the town. Would never stand by while people whispered and judged. He'd be right there beside her, hand in hand, daring anyone to say a damn word.
