Page 52

“There were pictures,” she whispered.

The name change made sense. The secrecy.Fuck.

I’d stack my family and our resources against most foes without flinching. But murder?

Ideas flickered as I considered and discarded each potential defense. Short of blowing up the ferry fleet, I didn’t know how to protect her. And there were always planes. No countermeasure seemed like enough to keep her safe. And that terrified me.

Short of scooping her up and hiding her away, I didn’t know what to do. And she’d never tolerate that. Anya had the strength to walk away from her family once. She’d been fearless when she needed to be. I had to respect that. Follow her lead.

“I’m so, so sorry, Anya.” I paused. “Do you still want me to call you Anya?”

Her smile trembled.God, that lip quiver. “Yes. That’s who I am now. I amassed as much evidence as I could, then dropped it in the mail to the local FBI field office and fled. Changed my name. Started a new life. I thought I’d escaped.”

The heartbreak in her voice knotted my gut. I hugged her tight, as much to reassure myself as to comfort her. She had made it out. I’d keep her out.

“He’s here,” she whispered finally.

I glanced at my sweet sunny girl, her eyes red from crying. “Your dad?”

“My ex. Owen.”

A thousand reactions crowded forward. Anger. Relief. Satisfaction. If he was here, we could confront him. End him.Or at least end his hold on Anya. Friday Harbor was our turf. I wouldn’t let him terrorize her.

“What does he want?” I asked. If it were money, that’d be easy. But I doubted it would be that simple. And my sense of justice wouldn’t find a payoff satisfying. Anyone who touched my sweet Anya, made her hurt like he had, deserved far worse than a golden parachute. A shove out of a sea plane into the big, wide ocean would better suit the situation. That might calm some of the toxic stew roiling in my chest at the thought of her in danger.

“Help setting up a new shipping lane between here and Victoria, I think. He’s pushing me to introduce him to a local boat captain.” She dipped her chin. “And he’s threatening to tell the sheriff about my past if I don’t help him.”

Our sheriff wasn’t that gullible. But Anya seemed to buy the threat.

“What can he possibly accomplish with a call to the sheriff? So you changed your name, so what? If he implicates you in anything else, doesn’t he implicate himself?”

She looked doubtful. I hated the fear in her eyes. “He’ll find a way to ruin things for me here. It’s what he does.”

“Protecting the people I care about is whatIdo.” It was my stake in the ground, my promise. My refusal to back down. But all I wanted to do was shove a stake straight through Owen’s heart. Wasn’t that how you dealt with vampires? You didn’t reason with them. Didn’t bribe. You ended them.

“I don’t want to bring you into my mess.”

I lifted her chin, wanting her to see the sincerity in my eyes. “There’s nothing we can’t handle together. If it takes a thousand Owens to prove that to you, I will.”

And I’d fucking relish doing it. She’d trusted me enough to let me in.

“I don’t deserve you.” The self-doubt, the recrimination in her voice, gutted me.

“Not true. You deserve so much better than you’ve had.”

I ached to show her she was precious. Should have been treated as such.

She cupped my chin, stroking the stubble on my neck, the slow scrape turning the tide, electrifying the air. I let my lingering anger at her family and ex smolder into something else, something warmer. A fire that burned, not with rage but with the desire to show her I adored her. That she deserved everything.

Closing the distance between us came as naturally as breathing, our kiss made of flickering fire and honeyed sweetness. I deepened the kiss, and she answered in kind, welcoming my gentle assault. Kissing her felt like heaven, like coming home. I wanted to bask in her, soaking up the heat we generated between us.

Slowly, I drew a palm along her ribcage, tracing the valley at her waist, slipping a hand beneath her soft shirt to the even softer skin beneath. The urge to strip and worship her beneath the moonlight had me grabbing her hem in both hands, slowly rucking up the cotton, exposing her skin to the cool night air.

She arched against my chest, murmuring, “I want you.”

Something kindled in her eyes. A heat I didn’t expect. Maybe it was sheer relief, now that she’d unburdened herself, but I didn’t want her to have regrets.

“You sure, honey?”