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He brought one hand up to his chin, his index finger resting across his lips. “Sorry, Cam. It’s official.”

He spun his laptop so I could view the screen. Under a news headline was a photo of me leaning against my Camaro with arms crossed and a wide smile plastered across my face. It was one that Tom had taken at the garage. I remembered the day clearly. We were heading to a classic car show, and I had the black SS looking as good as it ever had. I struggled to reconcile the beaming girl in the photo with the banged-up mess I was now. My eyes flew over the words.

Grave Concerns for Missing Philadelphia Woman

Police are appealing for help to find Cameron McKenzie, 27, who was last seen by neighbors at her home in North Philadelphia two days ago. Police were alerted to her disappearance when she failed to arrive at work on Friday morning. Her friends and co-workers are concerned for her wellbeing, stating that it is out of character for her to disappear without contacting them.

If you have any information regarding her whereabouts or have noticed any suspicious activity, please contact the PPD.

Seeing that report made it all so real, so final. This was my life now. Everyone I knew, everything I’d worked for, everything I owned. Gone. I had nothing. How would I get through this?

Light-headedness overcame me as blood rushed from my face. My vision narrowed, going gray and fuzzy around the edges. A cold sweat broke out over my skin. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

One knee buckled, and I braced my hands on the counter. Shep was there in a flash, supporting me around my shoulders before my legs gave out completely.

“Whoa, easy. I’ve got you.”

And then I was in his arms, being carried to the living room. Shep sat on the sofa, keeping me on his lap with my head resting on his chest. “Take deep breaths. Slow ones, all right?” His large hand smoothed over my hair. “Don’t allow it to overwhelm you. The fear will eat you up if you let it. Try to get through this one step at a time.” The low rumble of his voice helped to calm me, and I knew his words to be true.

Being held by Shep, surrounded by his reassuring warmth, was the one thing anchoring me to reality. If he wasn’t consoling me, I was sure I’d float away into nothingness. After all, I’d already vanished from the only world I’d ever known.

“My team trained so hard that we ran on instinct. In combat, muscle memory kicked in and I didn’t need to tell my body what to do because we’d practiced it so many times. Sometimes I had bullets flying past my ears and mortars going off around us. Crazy shit when I look back on it now. But I didn’t stop to think how close we were to death, because if I did, that fear would consume me and get me or one of my brothers killed. We all knew that the moment you stopped and thought too hard about the shit going on around you, that was the moment you were most likely to meet your maker. We did what we had to do, one step at a time, so we’d come out alive at the other end.”

I was unsure if Shep meant to distract me with his words or pull me back into myself, but sitting with him, listening to his voice and the steady cadence of his heart beating against my cheek centered me. He might not have much experience with women, but he sure had solid skills for dealing with traumatic situations.

One of his callused hands moved to my arm where he rubbed away the goose bumps pebbling my skin.

He went on. “What I’m getting at is, you’re a fighter, too. Maybe not a battle-hardened soldier, although I’ve seen plenty of them more intimidated by me than you were. But when you thought your life was on the line, you never backed down from me. You were ready to fight tooth and nail if it came to it. So I know you can do this. Work through each day, each hour if you need to, before you decide how to tackle the next one, and we’ll get you through this together.”

I squeezed my lids shut as tears spilled down my cheeks. Where would I be without Shep helping me?

As my breathing evened out, his words sank in. Everything I was mentally dealing with was too much to process in this moment. I’d put the whole damn elephant on my plate and left the knife and fork in the drawer.

“Shep?” I hated how defeated my voice sounded.

“Yeah?”

I sniffled as my breath hitched. “This sucks.”

“I know, darlin’.” He rested his stubbly chin on top of my head.

“I think I hate Franky Russo.”

He took a moment before responding. “Me too.” From the harsh edge in his voice, it seemed like he wanted to say more, but held it in.

I snuggled into his chest, soaking up the warmth and comfort of his scent. He tightened his hold around me as I clung to his shirt.

After perhaps ten minutes I had my shit together again, but was content to stay put. When had I become so comfortable with Shep’s touch? His arms were my only safe haven in all of this.

God help me, I didn’t want him to let go.

He continued running his palm over my hair. “I’m done working for that asshole.”

I pulled back to take in his expression. He looked pissed, although I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “You mean, this’ll be your last contract?”

“For Franky, yeah. Didn’t say I was retiring.”

My disappointment was hard to hide, but I wasn’t here to convert Shep from hitman to saint. Still, I couldn’t help thinking this job was exacerbating his problems. I suspected his time in the military had left him with some level of PTSD, so why would he continue to throw himself into situations that risked his life and ended with blood on his hands?