"But I wasn't." I held her tighter, careful of my bandaged arm and bruised ribs. "I got there. You're safe."
She pulled back just enough to look at my arm, the white gauze already showing a small bloom of red where blood had seeped through. "You're hurt."
"Shallow cut. Nothing serious." I touched her face, made her meet my eyes. "You saved yourself. That rope throw—you bought me the opening I needed."
"I was so scared." Tears tracked down her cheeks. "When he grabbed me, when I felt that knife—"
"I know." I pressed my forehead to hers. "But it's over. He's in custody. He can't hurt you anymore."
She nodded, but I could feel the tremors still running through her.
"Come on." I kept my arm around her as we headed for the exit. "Let's get you out of here."
The walk to the parking lot felt endless. Every step, I scanned for additional threats—old habits from deployments, from yearsof watching for danger in every shadow. But the lot was secure, officers stationed at key points, vehicles coming and going under watchful eyes.
I got Presley into my truck, climbed in beside her. Neither of us spoke during the short drive back to the hotel. What was there to say? We'd almost lost everything in that backstage corridor. Words felt inadequate.
Back in our room, I sat her on the edge of the bed. "You okay?"
"I don't know." She looked up at me, eyes red from crying. "Are you?"
My ribs ached where Landon's punch had landed. The bandage on my arm pulled tight every time I moved. But none of that mattered.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm good."
Because she was here. Alive. Whole. Safe.
For years, Jake's death had haunted me—the guilt of making the right tactical call that still got him killed. The fear of failing someone else on my watch. The certainty that I couldn't protect the people who mattered.
But today, when it counted most, I'd gotten there in time.
Presley was alive because I'd sprinted through those corridors. Because I'd fought Landon with everything I had. Because I'd refused to fail again.
Maybe I couldn't control every outcome. Maybe some losses were inevitable no matter how hard I fought. But today wasn't one of them.
Today, I'd saved her.
I sat beside her on the bed, drew her along my uninjured side. She curled into me, one hand fisting in my shirt.
"Thank you," she whispered. "For saving me. For being there. For everything."
"Always," I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being.
We sat like that as the adrenaline finally drained away, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Outside, Austin went about its evening—traffic sounds, distant sirens, the ordinary chaos of a city that had no idea what had just happened in that backstage corridor.
"What happens now?" she asked quietly.
"Now?" I tilted her chin up so I could see her face. "Now we figure out what this looks like when I'm not actively protecting you from a stalker."
A small smile tugged at her mouth despite everything. "So... normal dating?"
"Something like that." I brushed my thumb across her cheekbone. "Except I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."
"Good." She pressed closer. "Because I'm keeping you."
The fake relationship had become real somewhere between roping lessons and shared beds and learning to trust each other with everything that mattered.
I'd come to Valor Springs to do a job.
