Page 41 of Beckett (Warrior Security #2)

Audra

My head was still spinning as Beckett drove us back toward Pawsitive from Travis’s. The image of Beckett fighting to control the truck, the bridge railing splintering, the black water rushing up—I couldn’t shake it.

I’d brought death to his doorstep, and we’d barely escaped it.

Beckett had a preprogrammed burner phone Travis had provided pressed to his ear, one hand on the wheel as he navigated the dark Montana roads. His voice was steady, professional, but I could hear the underlying tension as he explained everything to Aiden.

“Yeah, we’re both fine.” A pause. “No, the stalker got away. I was too busy trying not to drown to get a good look at him.” Another pause, his jaw tightening. “I know. Yeah, do it. Whatever it takes.”

He ended the call and set the phone in the cupholder.

“Aiden’s coordinating security,” Beckett said, his voice clipped. “He and Hunter are going to patrol town—check Draper’s Tavern, Deja Brew, anywhere someone could blend in and watch. Coop’s already at Pawsitive, walking the perimeter.”

My fingers dug into my thighs. More people involved. More people at risk.

“Lucas Everett and Daniel Clark from Resting Warrior Ranch volunteered to help too,” he continued. “We’re setting up twenty-four-hour rotations. Both at Pawsitive and in town.”

The list of people I was putting in danger kept growing—Beckett, then Aiden, Hunter, and Coop, now Lucas and Daniel. How long before one of them paid the price for my presence here? How long before Garnet Bend became just another town I’d destroyed in my wake?

The silence in the SUV felt heavy. We were almost at the kennel now, and I could see the familiar outline of the buildings in the moonlight.

“We need to grab Jet,” Beckett said, pulling up near the dog runs.

I nodded, reaching for the door handle, but his hand caught my arm. Gentle but firm.

“Don’t even fucking think it.”

I turned to look at him, and those eyes—gray as winter storms—pinned me in place.

“Whatever’s going through your head right now, get it out. You’re not leaving. This isn’t your fault.”

“Beckett—”

“No.” His grip tightened slightly. “The stalker is at fault here. Not you. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t cause this.”

“But you nearly drowned. Everyone’s lives are disrupted?—”

“We’re fighting him together, Audra. Together. That means all of Warrior Security, not just you and me. We’ve dealt with threats before. We know what we’re doing.”

The certainty in his voice made something crack inside my chest. After months of running alone, months of carrying this burden by myself, hearing him say together felt like being offered water in the desert.

He released my arm and got out, moving around to my side before I could even unbuckle. Always protecting. Always watching. Even after everything that had happened tonight.

Jet came bounding over the moment we approached his kennel, tail wagging, my shirt still held in his mouth, pressing his whole body against the chain link in greeting. Beckett let him out, and the German shepherd immediately pressed against my legs, sensing my distress the way he always did.

“Come on,” Beckett said quietly. “Let’s get back to the cabin.”

The short drive to the cabin felt longer in the darkness.

Every shadow could hide a threat, every rustle of wind through trees could be him watching.

But Jet’s warm weight against my leg in the truck helped ground me, and Beckett’s solid presence beside me made me feel less alone than I had in months.

Inside the cabin, I sank onto the couch while Beckett checked the locks, the windows, his movements efficient and thorough. Jet stayed pressed against my legs, his brown eyes watching me with that uncanny awareness dogs had.

“You should try to get some sleep,” Beckett said, but I shook my head.

“I can’t. Not after…” I gestured vaguely at everything.

He studied me for a long moment, then moved to sit in the chair across from me. Not on the couch beside me, giving me space while still being close. Understanding me in a way that made my chest ache.

“All right,” he said quietly. “Then we’ll talk.”

“About what?”

“About why you shouldn’t blame yourself.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Can I tell you something? About my last deployment?”

I nodded. This wasn’t just a story.

“I’ve told you a little bit about Miguel Rodriguez. But not everything.”

Jet moved from my legs to lie between us, as if he knew Beckett needed the comfort too. The dog’s breathing was the only steady sound in the room.

“It was supposed to be my last mission before rotating home.” He shrugged, though nothing about the gesture was casual. “I’d never lost anyone under my command. Not once in my entire career. Perfect record.”

His hands clenched and unclenched. He stood abruptly, paced to the window, then back. The restless energy rolling off him made the small cabin feel even smaller. The floorboards creaked under his feet, a lonely sound that emphasized the weight of what he was sharing.

“We were tracking an insurgent leader. High-value target. Rodriguez was on my left flank, exactly where he was supposed to be.” He stopped pacing, braced his hands on the back of his chair.

The muscles in his forearms corded with tension.

“My K-9 partner started acting up—hackles raised, growling low. Classic alert behavior. But I was watching the wrong sector. If I’d just looked where the dog was looking, if I’d trusted what he was telling me… Rodriguez would still be alive.”

“Beckett—”

“The insurgent had a vendetta against our translator.” His knuckles went white where he gripped the chair. “Nothing to do with Rodriguez—with any of us—at all. Rodriguez was just collateral damage. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered, even though I knew how hollow those words could sound. How many times had people told me the same thing about Todd’s death? About the stalker? Words didn’t change the weight you carried.

He looked at me then, really looked at me. “Funny how easy it is to say that to someone else, isn’t it? But when it’s your own guilt, your own what-ifs, it’s different.”

He had me there. I could tell him all day that Rodriguez’s death wasn’t his fault, but I’d never stop feeling responsible for the danger I’d brought to Garnet Bend.

“The point is,” he continued, moving back to his chair but not sitting, just gripping the back of it like an anchor, “Rodriguez died not because of anything he did, but because someone had a vendetta against someone else entirely. He was collateral damage in someone else’s war.

” He paused, letting that sink in. “Sound familiar?”

“But I’m not a soldier. This isn’t a battle.”

“There are all different types of soldiers, Audra.” Something shifted in his expression, like pieces were clicking together about something in his mind. “Different types of battles. Different types of enemies. Sometimes we have enemies whether we want them or not, whether we asked for them or not.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Different types of soldiers.” He stood abruptly, pulling out the burner phone Travis had given him. “I need to call Travis. I think we might have just figured out the missing part of this puzzle.”

But before he could dial, a faint glow swept across the window. Lights from a car, not bright enough to be headlights. The vehicle was moving slow. Deliberate. I tensed, and Jet’s head shot up, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“What the hell?” Beckett moved closer to the window, and I joined him. The car was driving with only its parking lights on, creeping along the dirt road that led toward Lark’s house.

Beckett was already pulling out his phone. “Aiden, who’s on patrol at Pawsitive? We have an unsub approaching suspiciously near Lark’s house.” Pause. “Fuck. Okay, tell him to get himself over there as soon as possible. My Glock is at the bottom of the river.”

He hung up. “Coop is on his way, but he’s on foot across the property.”

“What do we do?”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he said, more to himself than to me. “And I don’t trust Jet to protect you if I’m not here.” He looked at the German shepherd, who was still growling low. “No offense, buddy, but you’ve already proven multiple times that’s not your forte.”

“So we go together,” I said.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but we both knew we didn’t have time. Every second counted if this was our chance to catch the stalker.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered. “And if I tell you to run, you run. No arguments.”

We moved through the darkness, Jet beside us, Beckett leading the way with the kind of silent precision that came from years of military training.

Every twig that snapped under my foot sounded like a gunshot.

The cold air burned my lungs—or maybe that was fear.

Pine needles brushed against my arms, each touch making me flinch, expecting hands to grab me from the shadows.

My breath came in short, sharp bursts that I tried to muffle. The moonlight threw twisted shadows across the path, turning innocent bushes into crouching figures. An owl called somewhere above us, and I bit back a gasp. My fingers found Jet’s fur, grounding myself in his warm, solid presence.

The distance to Lark’s house couldn’t have been more than a quarter mile, but it felt endless. Beckett moved with such certainty ahead of me, never hesitating, never doubting, that I forced myself to follow.

Lark’s house finally came into view, that cheerful yellow paint looking ghostly and wrong in the moonlight. The vehicle was parked in her driveway now, engine still running, a low rumble that vibrated through the ground and up into my bones.

Beckett held up a hand, stopping me. My heart hammered so loud I was sure everyone could hear it, sure it would give away our position.

The waiting was agony. Each second stretched like an hour, my mind spinning through every terrible possibility.

Was he in that car? Was he checking Lark’s empty house? Looking for me? Setting another trap?

Then another figure came running from the opposite direction—Coop, moving fast despite the darkness, his own weapon drawn. The metal gleamed cold in the moonlight, a reminder that this was real, that the danger I’d brought to this peaceful place had teeth and claws and wouldn’t stop until?—

Coop stopped immediately when he saw Beckett and me. The two of them communicated with hand signals I didn’t understand, Coop nodding and circling around to flank the vehicle while Beckett approached from the front.

I held my breath, Jet tense beside me, as they converged on the car.

Jet suddenly relaxed, his tail starting to wag. Before I could grab his collar, he took off toward the car, a happy whine escaping his throat.

“Jet!” I whisper-yelled. Oh God, if Jet got hurt, I would never forgive myself.

“Jet? What are you doing out here, buddy?” Lark’s voice carried across the yard.

The relief hit me so hard my knees almost buckled. Just Lark. Just Lark coming home.

“Jesus Christ, Lark.” Coop lowered his weapon. “You scared the shit out of us.”

“Coop? What the hell are you doing here? Is that a gun?”

Beckett rushed up to her, and I followed right behind. Jet was running around in circles, beside himself with excitement that all his favorite people were in one place. “Why are you driving with just your parking lights?”

“It’s late.” She shut the door behind her and petted Jet. “I didn’t want to wake anybody up. I was going to surprise you guys in the morning by having the chores done. What the hell is going on?”

She looked past them and spotted me standing in the shadows. “Audra? What’s happening?”

I moved forward on unsteady legs. “I’m sorry. We thought… There’s been some trouble.”

“Trouble?” Her gaze went to Beckett, then Coop. “What kind of trouble?”

“The kind we need to tell you about inside,” Beckett said. “You weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow.”

“I decided to drive straight through.” She looked between all of us, concern growing. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”

We moved inside, Lark automatically putting on coffee like she knew we’d need it. I gave her the abbreviated version—starting with my stalker and ending with the near-drowning incident. I felt sicker with every word.

She listened without interrupting, her face growing more serious the more information I shared. When I finished, she was quiet for a long moment.

“So this person, this stalker, they followed you here? To Garnet Bend?”

I nodded, shame burning in my throat. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to bring danger here. If you want me to leave?—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her response was immediate, firm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The unexpected support made my eyes burn with tears I refused to let fall.

“I mean it,” she continued. “This isn’t your fault, Audra. And we don’t abandon people here just because things get difficult.”

“She’s right,” Beckett said firmly, his hand finding mine and squeezing. “We protect our own in Garnet Bend.”

Then his expression shifted, that look I’d seen before at the cabin when pieces were clicking together in his mind. “I need to call Travis. I think we’ve been looking for enemies in the wrong place.”