“He hasn’t moved yet,” I said. “But he will.”
Rylie’s fingers tightened on the blanket.
I wanted to go to her. To sit beside her. To put my arm around her and tell her she was safe and make her believe it with my body.
But safety wasn’t a hug.
It was discipline.
It was staying sharp.
It was sleeping in a chair facing the door, weapon within reach, listening to the woods.
I forced my voice to stay steady. “You should try to rest.”
Rylie stared at me like she could see the war inside my head.
“Are you going to sleep?” she asked.
I didn’t answer right away.
Because the truth was…
Not a chance.
“I’ll be right here,” I said instead.
Her shoulders sagged slightly, relief slipping through.
She nodded once, then slowly leaned back against the couch, pulling the blanket higher.
Within minutes, her breathing shifted—still tense, but deeper. Like exhaustion was finally winning.
I stayed standing, watching the window.
Watching the door.
Watching the dark.
Because somewhere out there, a man who thought he owned her was going to wake up and realize his leash was empty.
And when he did…
He’d come looking.
I just hoped he started in town.
Not here.
11
Thomas
Eagle River slept like it trusted the dark.
That annoyed him.
Thomas eased his SUV down Main Street without headlights, letting the moonlight do the work. The buildings seemed familiar—too familiar. It reminded him of the stinky, rotten small town he grew up in. The kids called him trailer trash because he lived in a trailer and was poor. He almost had Rylie thinking he was a good guy, but she still didn’t want him, so he had to use threats and force to get her to agree to marry him.
