"But there wasn't anything you could have done."
"I know. But knowing doesn't stop the guilt or the fear that caring about someone again means setting myself up to lose them." She meets my eyes. "That's why I haven't dated since Tyler. Why I keep everyone at arm's length. Why I bury myself in work instead of building a life. Because if I don't let anyone close, I can't lose them."
We're running from the same fear. Both survivors carrying guilt we don't deserve, both hiding behind work and duty to avoid the risk of connection, both so terrified of loss that we've chosen isolation instead.
"That's a lonely way to live," I say, and I'm not sure if I'm talking about her or me or both of us.
"Yeah, it is." Her laugh is bitter but honest. "But it's easier than the alternative."
Duke makes a soft sound from his position at her feet and looks between us like he's judging our life choices and finding them wanting. Andi laughs for real this time, reachingdown to pet him. "I think your dog disagrees with our coping mechanisms."
"He usually does. Duke has opinions about how I run my life, and he's not shy about sharing them." I check my watch, see how late it's gotten. "You should try to sleep. It's been a long day, and tomorrow won't be easier."
"Will you and Duke be nearby?"
Her vulnerability in that question, the implicit admission that she feels safer knowing we're close, does something to my carefully maintained control. "We'll be right outside your door. If you need anything, anything at all, you call me."
"Thank you, Devlin." She says my name like she's testing how it feels, and the intimacy of it in this quiet room hits different than military formality. "For everything today. For keeping me safe. For listening. For understanding."
"Get some rest, Andi." I head toward the door, Duke reluctantly following. But when I open it, he plants his feet, tail drooping, every line of his body saying he wants to stay with her. That she's pack and pack doesn't get left alone when they're scared and vulnerable.
"Duke, come."
His ears droop and he huffs, but he follows my command even though his eyes stay locked on Andi.
"Go on, Duke." Andi's voice is gentle. "I'm okay. Devlin needs you too."
That gets him moving, but he looks back twice before we're out the door. I close it behind us, hearing the lock engage, and stand in the hallway for a moment while Duke presses against my leg.
"Yeah, buddy," I mutter, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. "I know exactly how you feel."
Walking away from her just now, leaving her alone in that sterile room after the night she's had, goes against every instinctI have. Professional distance requires it. My job requires it. But Duke's not the only one who's decided Andi is pack.
I settle on the floor outside her door, back against the wall, Duke beside me. If anyone wants to get to her tonight, they'll have to go through both of us.
Duke rests his head on my thigh, still watching her door like he's hoping she'll change her mind and let him in. Every part of me wants to be on the other side of that door, wants to make sure she's actually sleeping instead of lying awake afraid, wants to be close enough to protect her from nightmares and the very real threat of whoever is targeting her.
Three years I've kept everyone at arm's length. Three years of making sure I never care enough to risk loss again.
Duke huffs like he's calling bullshit on that plan, and he's probably right.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall. Tomorrow I'll worry about professional boundaries and what this means. Tonight, I'm right where I need to be.
5
ANDI
Morning light filters through the hotel room curtains, and I wake disoriented. For a moment I don't know where I am. Then yesterday comes rushing back: the intruder in my bedroom, Devlin clearing my cottage with Duke, the late-night conversation where we both admitted we're terrified of loss. All of it presses in, weight trying to keep me in this bed where at least I'm safe.
But hiding won't catch whoever is doing this. Work won't get done from a hotel room. My life won't move forward if I let fear control my choices.
I shower, dress in clean clothes from the bag I packed in a panic last night and open my door to find Devlin right outside. He's sitting on the floor, back against the wall, Duke's head resting on his thigh. Both of them are awake and alert despite the uncomfortable position they've maintained all night.
"You stayed out here all night."
"Told you I would." He stands, Duke rising with him, both stretching muscles that clearly protest hours on the floor. "How'd you sleep?"
"Better than you, apparently." Guilt twists through me. He spent the night on cold tile while I had a bed. "You could have taken the chair inside. Or gone back to your own quarters."
