He approaches as the cruisers start loading up the three men. He adjusts his hat, eyes flicking from the broken men to me.
“What happened?” he asks, tone too casual to be casual. “Owner called in a disturbance. Said you were in the middle of it.”
I keep my hands loose at my sides. No adrenaline left—just that cold afterburn.
“They walked in looking for trouble,” I say. “I decided to interrupt their little menace party before someone innocent paid for it.”
Dawson gives me a long, assessing look. “Uh-huh.” He’s not buying the neat version, but he’s not pushing yet either. “You know I don’t like secrets in my town.”
“I don’t have any for you that matter,” I reply. “I run a security company. I piss off the wrong kind of men for a living. Sometimes they follow.”
His jaw shifts. “Those three aren’t your usual drunks starting a bar fight.”
“No,” I agree. “They’re the kind you don’t want wandering around a quiet place like this. Make sure these pissheads get escorted past county lines.”
Dawson huffs a dry laugh. “Oh, trust me. They’ll be strongly encouraged to leave before sunset. And if they come back…” He shrugs. “Well, you won’t be the one dealing with them.”
“Good,” I say.
Because if they did come back, Iwouldbe the one dealing with them.
And Dawson wouldn’t like how quickly it ends.
I watch until the cruiser disappears down the road, its taillights swallowed by the trees.
Only then do I let my lungs work properly again.
Inside, Lucky is still by our table—hands shaking, shoulders tight, eyes locked on the door like she’s bracing for the next hit. Always bracing. Always waiting.
But when she sees me, everything in her unknots at once.
She moves fast—half-run, half-stumble—and I’m there, catching her before she can even say my name. She folds into me, small and shaking, her face pressed to my chest.
“I’m okay,” I murmur into her hair, though the burning is still smoldering through me like lava beneath a frozen crust, patient and lethal.
She shakes her head, breath warm against my collarbone. “No… we’re okay.”
Her fingers curl in my shirt, holding on like someone might try to pry us apart.
They won’t.
I wrap my arms around her, anchoring her, anchoring myself, letting the world go quiet around us.
Because tonight just drove it deeper into bone:
No one takes Lucky Vale from me.
Not while I’m standing. Not while I’m breathing. Not ever.
Chapter 30
Lucky
Thedrivehomeisquiet.
Not angry quiet.
Not awkward quiet.
