“Aims? Talk to me, baby.”
I took a shaky breath. “There was a package. I freaked out. The bomb squad came. It’s fine.”
“Fuck,” Rhett breathed. “I should’ve called out today. I’m coming home as soon as my shift ends.”
“I’m fine. The detectives took the package. It’s over.” I paused, surprised to realize I meant it. “I’m really okay. You don’t have anyone to cover your shift, and you know Troy will take care of me.” He was quiet for a moment, then blew out a breath. “Yeah. He will.”
We talked for a few more minutes, filling Rhett in on the details, his voice calming as he confirmed we were safe. When we hung up, I melted back against Troy’s chest, watching Cheeto bat at the throw blanket fringe.
“It’s okay to need people sometimes, Aimee.”
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in, and snuggled closer, the weight of his big body comforting against mine.
Chapter 20
Aimee
ThelightingatRoot& Bone was warm and amber-tinted, adding to the cozy feel of my favorite restaurant. Copper pots hung from the ceiling, catching the light and reflecting it back onto the exposed brick walls while servers in denim aprons bustled between reclaimed wooden tables. After weeks of living in terror, of jumping at every sound and seeing danger in every shadow, simply sitting in a restaurant felt like an act of rebellion. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed this until I was here, wine glass in hand, watching Troy and Rhett argue over the last bite of the heirloom tomato tart we’d shared as an appetizer.
“You had two pieces already.” Troy’s fork hovered defensively over the plate.
“Yeah, but they were smaller.” Rhett’s blue-gray eyes sparkled with mischief as he made a theatrical lunge for the last morsel.“Besides, I need to keep up my strength. For reasons.” He winked at me, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks despite myself.
“For Christ’s sake.” Troy rolled his eyes. “Fine, take it, you bottomless pit.” But he was smiling as he pushed the plate toward Rhett, his hand lingering just a moment too long. They loved each other dearly, and they were so damn perfect for each other that it hurt.
Another sip of wine, the rich cabernet rolling across my tongue as I studied them. Troy, with his warm brown skin and attentive eyes that missed nothing, seeming to know what I needed before I even knew myself. Rhett, with his perpetually disheveled hair and easy smile that concealed an unexpected depth, his protectiveness wrapped in jokes and casual touches.
They’d been my safety net these past weeks, shielding me from the nightmares that had taken up residence in my mind since the snakes.
“What?” Troy caught me watching them. “Do I have food on my face?”
A shake of my head, smiling. “Just thinking how nice this is. Being out. Not jumping at every shadow.”
“It’s good to see you relaxed,” Troy said, his voice softening. “You’ve been holding so much tension in your shoulders.” He reached across the table, his fingers briefly squeezing mine. “It’s not good for you.”
“Says the firefighter with the most stress-induced knots I’ve ever felt.” I turned my hand to catch his before he could pull away. “Seriously though, thank you for this. For everything.”
Before either man could respond, my phone buzzed against the wooden tabletop, Detective Joyce’s name lighting up the screen. My stomach dropped, the pleasant warmth of the evening suddenly evaporating. Troy and Rhett both tensed, their easy smiles faltering as they watched me pick up the phone.
“It’s Joyce.” My thumb hovered over the screen. “I should take this.”
Troy nodded, his eyes on my face as I accepted the call.
“Detective. Is everything okay?”
“Better than okay, Ms. Hale.” Something in her tone made me sit up straighter. “We’ve made an arrest. The suspect is in custody.”
The world seemed to tilt, sound becoming muffled as if I were underwater. “What? How?”
“That package you reported contained an improvised explosive device. Crude, but effective enough to cause harm. He likely found the plans online.” “Oh,” I whispered. “The bomb squad’s analysis gave us trace evidence, and that, combined with the footage from Mr. Donovan’s doorbell camera, and the information from your neighbor and the snake sanctuary gave us enough for a warrant.”
“I can’t believe it was really a bomb.” “A bomb?” Troy and Rhett leaned forward, concern etched on their faces. “Who was it?”
“James Newell. Does that name ring a bell?”
Eyes closed, searching my memory. “Newell... No, I don’t think so.”
“We found evidence that he’s affiliated with an ultra-conservative religious movement. In his apartment, we found evidence linking him to the snake incident and several threatening emails sent to your podcast account. He was apparently triggered by an episode you did on toxic masculinity. Claimed you were ‘destroying men.’”
