Pay : $23,750.00
A low whistle escapes my lips when I see five digits attached.Must be serious if they're paying that kind of money and requesting twenty-four-hour detail.
In a browser, I dive into researching who she is and why she's important enough to threaten—rather, why her family matters and if I can get eyes on her now.
It doesn't take me long to find a few photos of her at formal events.One appears to be at a military ball, another some charity gala in Austin, and finally a family photo.She's beautiful in that southern belle way.Curls, sun, and likely a twang you couldn't miss if you tried.
"Ahh, there it is," I rumble under my breath.
Isaac Gardner, twenty-eight, rodeo circuit.The boyfriend.Coiffed hair, cocky smirk, and women hanging off of him in photo after photo.My money is on one of the fans—parasocial obsession.Those get dangerous.
Moving on, I drain the remainder of my water while looking into her parents—big time cattle drivers Frederick and Barbara Erhart.Eight-hundred-fifty-acre ranch that's been in the family for generations.Migrated from the Carolinas to follow the railroad during the wild west era.They have serious roots and even more serious money.As for the merger, Mr.Erhart recently acquired eight ranches in west Texas that he's now refusing to let oil companies drill on.
The whole team is going to have to sit on a case this big and if not them, she’ll have to see what her branch can do.It's not our job to figure out where the threat's coming from, just protect the girl.The very one who's still on active duty and might disappear to base in two days.
"Can't protect you on base, Private," I murmur."Might as well go back instead of staying home with Mom and Dad."
A few more clicks and I dive deep into the rabbit hole.Chasing down leads I have no business looking for because, at the end of the day, I won't be going.I can only send what I find to Mav and wash my hands.I'm needed elsewhere and that comes first.My head wouldn't be in the game and that's just as much of a risk as unverified threats.
"P...pl..eas...e," Sadie gasps, almost background noise now that I'm focused on productivity.
Just part two fifty-three of a nightmare.
Her legs shift under the few layers of blankets, filling the room with a subtle rustle then stills.
My phone lights up with a text I'm quick to ignore—probably Mav waiting for me to acknowledge the email he sent—when she whimpers.
"J...d...do it.K...kill me."
My head snaps away from the laptop screen at Sadie’s stuttered words.Through dimmed lights, her relaxed features twists into sorrow then misery.
Wide eyes sting the longer I stare at her.Part of me prays I'm trapped in a dream I never asked for, one that has yet to decide if it's a nightmare or not.The rest knows better.History's repeating itself; like a hurricane, I can't stop it.There's no amount of dodging and weaving that will protect me from what's coming.Hell, fuck protecting myself, what about her?
The laptop makes a quiet snap when the lid closes and I set it to the side.Can't concentrate on work, not now.Maybe not for a while, if I'm being honest.I lean forward and dig my elbows into the tops of my thighs, clasping my hands together in front of me like the useless man I am.
We take two steps forward, get Sadie into a better place, and fall back five.Nothing works.There will be a three second sigh of relief then whoosh, it's gone and we're scrambling to pick up the pieces.
We're stuck in a perpetual loop: medicate and stabilize, develop a routine, get comfortable, then one wrong move brings it all crashing down.Neither one of us can keep our heads above water right now and it's slowly killing me.
I don't know how to help Sadie anymore.Frankly, my PTSD hits like a Mack truck each time I see her go still.Even now, safe, alive, and sleeping, I'm still terrified I'll look away and she’ll stop breathing.
I needed to step back—to catch my own breath, then come running back to her.We're too toxic for one another; not in a sense that we don't care because we do, it's how messed up we both are.
There are no words for me to explain how I feel about Sadie.Damn woman came into my life when duty was all that mattered, and in the past five years she's warped me into someone completely different.
In her head, she's convinced the only way through is to escape, but to me?She represents a future I never thought I could possess.Belonging, hope, getting to finish my days with someone who I can't live without.
I no longer only want Sadie.
Ineedher.
I love her.
Tired knees groan when I stand—protesting along with the tense muscles that cramp in my lower back.I've slept on slabs of concrete that feel better than the trash hospitals give us to lounge on.Neither compare to how agonizing life would be if I lost this woman.
At her side in a few steps, I pull the blankets back and see how she’s curled in on herself as she sleeps, with her arms wrapped around herself as if that’s the only thing keeping her in one piece.Breaks my heart seeing this supernova of a woman reduced to a gown many people have given birth, or died in.It’s unacceptable.She deserves to be wrapped in silk, or my clothing—more so the latter—than rough cotton that's seen too many bodily fluids.
It's moments like this where the world is too large, too lonely, and I won't let Sadie suffer anymore.If we're to be isolated, then we're doing it together.She can fall apart, break into millions of pieces, hate herself—I'll still be here.Loving her.
