“I don’t want to put you in danger.”
Rick half smiled. “You would do the same for me.”
Cross still hesitated, but Rick was right; he would do the same for him or anyone else on the bayou. They’d taken him in, in a way, and he appreciated it. “Okay.” Cross gave him McGuire’s number, and then they said their goodbyes.
Cross turned the motor back on, keeping it at a whisper, and turned the boat back towards the shack—a silent shadow cutting through the water. But even as they moved, Cross couldn’t shake it—that feeling crawling up his spine.
Something was definitely out there.
Watching.
Waiting.
And this time, he wasn’t sure they’d see it coming.
CHAPTER 11
The skiff bumped gentlyon the dock as Cross tied it off. Moonlight sliced through the trees, casting silver ribbons across the shack’s crooked porch. Drew climbed out stiffly, her legs aching from tension more than the ride. They were back where they’d started.
Goddamn it.
It only made sense to come back after Rick reported that someone was prowling around their potential route. The idea of the Weasel being out there didn’t seem shocking at all to Cross. Like he’d expected it. Maybe he had. Maybe she should have. But she thought they’d have more time before someone came into the bayou and found them. Much more time. Even if Rodriguez had called the Weasel, how did he find them so quickly? There were acres and acres of bayou. They could be lost anywhere in it. How did he get so lucky?
Drew paced across the warped porch, arms crossed, jaw tight. Every step made the floor creak, but she didn’t stop. She needed to move. To outrun the pressure building in her chest. She wanted out. Not just out of the bayou.
In the midst of this twisted situation, she was still reeling from the knot of emotion in her belly. Cross had pulled herin again without even trying. One minute, they were kissing like they never stopped, the next minute, he was pulling away, treating her like glass. Like she’d break. She didn’t need his protection—she needed distance.
And maybe a shotgun.
Because the truth she hadn’t let herself think too hard about until now was that she was scared. Really scared. The Weasel wasn’t a myth. He was real, and he was close. And while Drew had always prided herself on fearlessness, tonight, she didn’t feel invincible. Not without Cross beside her—not the way he used to be.
Because Cross wasn’t the same. Neither was she.
She rubbed her arms and stared into the shadows beyond the trees. The swamp was too still again. Watching. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jerking her from her thoughts. McGuire. She hesitated, then picked up. “Hey.”
“Jesus, Drew…” His voice cracked with relief. “You okay?”
“No. Not even a little.” She hadn’t planned on telling McGuire the truth, but even though he’d pissed her off to no end, he was still family, and the sound of his voice made her long for a hug.
There was a long pause. Then: “I’m sorry. For not telling you. About me. About the op. About everything.” He blurted it out like he’d been holding it back forever and couldn’t deal with it any longer.
Her throat tightened. She’d been waiting for this moment for months. Dreaming about yelling at him, cursing him out, maybe even punching him if he ever showed up in person. Instead, all she said was, “I know.”
“You were so pissed,” he said softly. “I heard it in your voice when you left that last message.”
“I was,” she admitted. “I still am, a little. You let me think you weredead, Mac. I mourned you.”
“I know. God, I know. But it was the only way. The mission went sideways, and if anyone thought I was alive, you’d have been in danger too.”
Drew sank down onto the porch steps, tucking her knees to her chest. “But Savvy was allowed to know. Weren’t you afraid of putting her in danger? Or did you think she could handle it and I couldn’t?” She didn’t bother to mask the bitterness creeping into her voice.
“Savvy helped us disappear. I wouldn’t have told her if the circumstances were reversed. It was never about thinking you couldn’t handle yourself. I’ve seen you do your job. I have no fears about your ability to take care of yourself. Ask Cross… He knows how I feel. I’m damn proud of you. You are amazing, Drew. I just didn’t want to put you in jeopardy. I couldn’t have handled it if I had done something that brought harm to you.”
Drew let out a sigh. “Okay, I guess. Just don’t ever fucking do it again, okay? It’s not fair. I can’t handle thinking you’re dead one minute and finding out you’re alive in the next.”
“Fair,” McGuire grunted. “So how are you?”
“Just peachy,” she said, her voice filled with sarcasm. “Who doesn’t want to be holed up in the swamp because a cold-blooded killer is after them, with an ex-boyfriend who dumped them for being too hard to deal with? It’s my dream vacation.”
