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Owen’s presence proved my bid for freedom had failed. My sobs trailed off in a bitter laugh that tasted like acid and bile on my tongue. Even after I’d wrapped the evidence in a bow.

“What’s wrong?”

I gasped, my heart racing until I registered Drew’s deep voice. He emerged from the shadows. I swiped at my eyes, trying to remove the traces of my crying jag.

“Anya, what’s wrong?”

“Just having a moment.” My voice wavered, my chest still too tight to breathe properly. I cleared my throat, trying again. “I’m okay, Drew.”

Chapter 19 – Drew

My lips pursed. I probably looked like a petulant child, but there was no way I was buying her lame answer. The remnants of tears smudged her cheeks, and her breath came in tiny pants, like she was still catching her breath and trying not to sob. She looked utterly devastated, like her world had crumbled to ashes beneath her feet.

“You look a long ways from my definition of ‘okay.’ What happened?”

My words came out harsher than I intended. Her chin tilted up, regaining the regalness I associated with her usual posture. Anya had never struck me as the cowering type. She had more the kill-them-with-kindness vibe. Seeing her look so defeated shook me.

I’d been making my nighttime rounds at The Anchor, ensuring everything was locked up tight for the night, when I spotted movement in Vi and Anya’s backyard. While a raccoon had been the most likely culprit, I still couldn’t go to sleep without checking it out.

Anya’s huddled form sobbing in one of the firepit chairs was the last thing I’d expected.

I inched closer, encouraged when she didn’t draw away.

She attempted a laugh, but it choked off on a short half-sob. That tortured sound cut my knees from beneath me. I sank onto the bench beside her. She melted into my shoulder. I took it as a sign she needed comfort, so I scooped her into my lap.

Every second she delayed answering, my fears mushroomed, growing inside my chest until my ribs felt like they would crack. She was hot to the touch and damp from tears. She burrowed deeper, as if she could absorb me like armor. It was a role I’d gladly claim, if it kept her from crying anymore.

“Honey, I can’t bear to see you so upset. Please, tell me what happened.”

Maybe it was the pure desperation in my voice, but she finally scooted back enough to see my face. Her blue eyes were liquid with tears, her eyelids angry and red. She swiped at her runny nose, and I dug a handkerchief from my pocket, offering it to her.

“Thanks.” She gave me a smile that wavered at the corners. “I’m sorry to blubber all over you. I just had a shock tonight. Someone from my family reached out.”

“I’m guessing you’re not close from things you’ve said, but is everyone okay?” I asked.

“My family’s not like yours.” Her smile turned wry. “Even if your gran can be a lot, she still loves you.”

“I’m sure your family loves you too,” I said.

She gave me a dark look. “They used me.” She said it with such bitterness, it was clear the pain was still fresh, the memories sharp.

I had no words. Questions crowded forward, begging to be asked, but she was wrung out. Her lower lip trembled, tugging atmy heartstrings. Anya deserved to have a family who loved her, not one who left her sobbing in the dark.

I wrapped her in a bear hug, crowding her into my chest until her cheek lay against my heart. She sank into my arms, relaxing with a deep sigh. That tiny gust roiled me in a fresh wash of emotion. Slowly, I stroked her head, running my palm over her sleek hair to her back, making small circles between her shoulder blades. It was meant to be soothing, and I was rewarded when her shoulders relaxed, her body melting into mine.

I lost track of how long we sat like that. At first, my blood rushed in my ears, my pulse heavy and fast. Gradually, the rhythm eased, slowing until it matched the gusts of wind blowing off the water. Night sounds took over, crickets and frogs serenading us with their evening ballads. She stirred, sighing reluctantly as she leaned back to look up at me.

Her blue eyes were dull with something too close to despair for me to leave it alone.

“Do you need protection?”

“I want to say no. But honestly? Maybe. Vi’s here, but she’s probably already in bed.”

My breath caught, mind swirling with the implications. “Is this get-the-sheriff trouble, or the kind we can handle ourselves?”

She wrinkled her nose. Her scrunched face would be adorable in other circumstances. “Too soon to tell.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” I asked, not sure who I was asking for. There was no way in hell I was getting any sleep if I couldn’t be sure she was safe. “Let me rephrase. Where would you like me to sleep tonight? Your choices are this bench or your couch.”