"Jake." Martinez's use of his first name made him still. "You know how this works. We need evidence. Real evidence. Not just your gut feeling about a guy who lost everything because of her father."
"So what?" Anger crept into his voice. "We wait until he actually hurts her? Until he?—"
"No." Martinez cut him off. "We document everything. Build a case. Follow procedure."
Jake nearly punched the steering wheel. "Procedure won't keep her safe!"
"And what's your alternative?" Her voice sharpened.
The question hit like a physical blow. Because he was trying. God, he was trying. But Hannah didn't want his protection. Didn't want anything from him.
"She won't let me help her." The admission felt like glass in his throat.
Martinez was quiet for a moment. Then, softer: "You really love her, don't you?"
Jake watched Hannah turn off the bakery lights, her silhouette moving toward the back stairs. His chest ached with the need to follow her, to make sure she got upstairs safely, to hold her until she stopped looking so damn haunted.
"She's everything." The words came out raw, honest. "And I can't—" His voice caught. "I can't let anything happen to her. Not again. Not after what I did."
"Jesus, Cooper." Martinez exhaled sharply. "Look, I'll put some pressure on local PD. Get them to increase patrols near the bakery. Maybe run Harrison's contacts, see if anything pings."
"Thank you."
"But Jake?" Her voice turned serious. "You need to be careful. If Harrison is planning something, the last thing Hannah needs is you arrested for assault when he makes his move."
Jake's hand tightened on the phone. Because Martinez was right. Again.
He couldn't protect Hannah if he was behind bars.
"I hear you."
"Good." Papers rustled again. "And Cooper? Document everything. Times, dates, witnesses. Build me a case I can actually use."
Jake ended the call. Across the street, Michael Harrison stood in the shadows of his pharmacy, watching the bakery with that same hungry look.
Jake's fingers itched to do something. Anything.
But Miller's words from earlier echoed in his head:The best way to protect Hannah isn't by breaking jaws.
So he stood there, watching Hannah's windows until the lights went out.
Watching Harrison until he finally slunk away into the darkness.
Watching, waiting, documenting.
And praying it would be enough.
The bell above Sugar& Spice's door chimed softly as Jake stepped inside. Like always, the familiar scent hit him like a physical blow—cinnamon and vanilla and Hannah andhome. His chest ached with the memory of countless mornings spent here, stealing kisses between customers, watching Hannah dance to that oldies station while she baked.
Hannah stood at the register, hair falling loose around her face, hands wrapped around a cooling cup of tea. For half a second, he almost went to her, almost took her in his arms—as if he still had the right.
Instead, he cleared his throat. "Just checking in."
Hannah didn't look up from her tea. "I don't need you to keep checking on me."
"I know." He took another step into the warmth of the bakery. "But I'm going to anyway."
That made her look up, eyes flashing. "Jake?—"
