"Lucy."
I looked up. He was looking at me with an expression I couldn't read, something raw and unguarded that made my breath catch.
And then his arms were around me. He did it, he hugged me.
I stiffened. Instinct, muscle memory, the learned response of a body that had been grabbed too many times by hands that meant harm. But this wasn't harmful. This was Cal, pulling me against his chest, holding me like I might break, like he was the only thing keeping me together.
I melted into him.
My face pressed against his shoulder. My hands found the fabric of his shirt and held on. He was warm and solid andthere, and I realized I was crying again, silent tears soaking into his collar while he held me and didn't let go.
He didn't say anything. Didn't try to fix it or explain it away or tell me everything would be okay. Just held me, one hand on my back, the other cradling my head, his heartbeat steady against my ear.
Neither of us spoke. Neither of us let go.
His heart beat steady against my ear, strong and certain, and I realized I'd stopped shaking. For the first time in years, I wasn't afraid of what came next. I was afraid of what I was starting to feel for the man holding me.
CHAPTER 8
Lucy
Sheriff Daniels calledthe next morning.
I was in Cal’s kitchen, my hands wrapped around a cup of coffee I hadn’t touched, when his phone buzzed on the counter. He was close and answered on the second ring. I watched his face as he listened, trying to read the news in the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders.
"Put it on speaker," I asked him.
He hesitated, but did.
"—spotted leaving town around 4 AM," Daniels was saying. "Heading east on the highway toward Denver. One of my deputies pulled him over near the county line. Issued a formal warning about the restraining order violation, made sure he understood that if he sets foot in West Valley Springs again, he's spending the night in a cell."
"And he just left?" I was unsettled, and my voice reflected it. "Just like that?"
"Wasn't happy about it." Daniels's voice crackledthrough the speaker. "Did a lot of yelling, lot of threatening. But he left."
I tried to feel relieved. But all I felt was the cold knot in my stomach, the one that had been there since the parking lot, the fear that he could come back at any moment.
"Doesn't mean he won't come back," Daniels continued, as if reading my thoughts. "Men like this, they don't give up easy. But for now, he's gone. We'll keep an eye out. I've got his plate flagged, and I've asked the deputies to swing by your building a few extra times on their rounds."
"Thank you," Cal’s voice was calm. "We appreciate it."
"You take care of her, Cal. And Ms. Moreno, you call us if anything feels off. Anything at all."
The line went dead. Cal set the phone down on the counter and looked at me.
Gone. For the moment.
It should have felt like a relief. Instead, it felt like waiting for the worst. Like I was standing in the eye of a storm, knowing the wind would pick back up eventually.
Cal insisted on walking me back to my apartment. Insisted reminding me that he’d installed new locks, checking every window, testing the chain he'd put on days ago. He moved through my space with the same focus he brought to everything, hands sure, attention sharp. He still carried the same lines of tension and rage in his face and body that I’d been noticing since last night.
"You don't have to do this," I said, watching him tighten the screws on the deadbolt he’d installed days ago. "Go back. I'll be fine."
He didn't look up. "Almost done."
"Cal."
He stopped. His eyes found mine, and for a moment, the world simply ceased to be.
