Red and blue lights cut through the darkness, and my gaze lands on the black body bag being carried off Zane’s boat by two men wearing coroner’s office jackets.
Dead.
“Depending on who you ask, so are we.” Weston’s words, when I’d said these men are killers, echo through my mind now, and my gaze lands on where Zane is standing with Officer Leopold. Weston, Ryker, Garrison, and Sawyer are here, too, though they’re talking to another officer over to the side.
Garrison glances up at me, then excuses himself and crosses over to take a seat on the marina bench beside me. “How you holding up?” he asks.
“Not great,” I admit. We’d gone to sleep after Zane read more of the Bible to me. I’d had a peace that I haven’t had in quite some time, only to have it robbed from me in the middle of the night.
“Zane!” A shrill feminine voice cuts through the night, and Anastasia sprints down the marina dock toward him.
“I’m okay,” I hear him tell her as she wraps her arms around him and squeezes.
My throat constricts.
“Hey, this isn’t your fault,” Garrison says, as though he can read my thoughts.
I can’t even find the words to argue.
Anastasia releases Zane and turns toward me. As she crosses over, I prepare myself for her anger. She’s never quick to it, but when that temper is released, the entire world shakes.
Garrison offers me a quick smile, then gets up so Anastasia can sit.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I nod.
“I saw the lights when I came downstairs to open the bakery.” She runs her hands over her face. “I’m so glad you guys are okay.”
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
“It is not your fault,” Anastasia counters.
“I know that you’re worried I’m going to cause him to get hurt. And you’re right. He keeps getting pulled into it because of me.”
Anastasia studies me for a moment. “You overheard our conversation. Of course you did. I wasn’t exactly quiet. I’m sorry.” She sighs. “I am worried about him—he’s my brother. But you aren’t the one getting him into these situations. He’s been getting himself into life-or-death instances long before you came back.”
“He killed someone,” I whisper.
“From what I hear, it was that or your life. Tessa, he’ll always choose you.”
My eyes fill. “I left so he wouldn’t kill my dad and throw his life away, yet here he is, doing it anyway. Eighteen years later.”
Anastasia wraps an arm around my shoulders. “This pity party you keep throwing for yourself has to stop. It’s not doing you any favors, and it’ll only keep you rooted in the past. Zane killed a man who was going to kill you both. It was self-defense.”
Pity party. Didn’t I just tell myself that same thing last night? That it was time to stop throwing one for myself?
Before I can respond, a black SUV pulls into the parking lot. Two men in suits climb out before one opens the back door, and a leggy brunette in a pencil skirt climbs out of the back.
Her gaze travels over the scene before her until it lands on Zane.
“Uh-oh,” Anastasia grumbles.
“What? Who is that?”
“Zane’s boss. I’ve only met her once, and it was by accident, but she’s a walking nightmare.”
Approaching on heels so high it should be impossible to glide the way she is, she moves toward Zane. Officer Leopold offers him a wave, then walks away, and Zane crosses his arms. They have a heated exchange before he turns and walks back toward me, leaving her behind him.
