Page 120 of Bennett

But she was alive.

“You’re safe,” he said, the words catching somewhere low in his throat. “It’s over.”

She blinked like she didn’t quite believe him.

“I’ve got you.”

Her fingers twitched, loosened, and then let go.

He eased the weapon from her hands, setting it aside with slow, deliberate care. And then he pulled her in.

She came willingly. Folded against him like the weight of what just happened had finally snapped the last thread holding her upright. Bennett wrapped both arms around her and held on.

His jaw locked as he pressed his face into her hair, his hand skimming up her back, wishing like hell he could somehow erasewhat had just happened. She was warm now and trembling, her breaths hiccupping against his chest.

He couldn’t stop touching her. Maybe, if he kept moving, kept holding, he could convince himself she was okay.

A door opened behind them. Boots. Voices. Gabe’s, low and clipped as he approached. “That’s Fred Hess,” the sheriff said grimly. “APB confirmed.”

Bennett didn’t move. He kept Laurel wrapped up as Gabe and two deputies took control of the scene.

Matthew’s voice drifted in, low and clipped. “He had a gas can and a gun.”

Bastard.

Bennett clenched his jaw tightly. Thank God the man hadn’t been able to carry out his plan.

He heard cuffs click. Heard Hess curse and groan. Heard the deputies mutter something about resisting.

But it was all white noise.

All that mattered was the woman in his arms.

“I’m okay,” she whispered after a minute, like she was trying to make it true. “I’m okay.”

“No,” he murmured, pressing his hand over her back again. “You’re not. But you will be.”

She made a small sound, half a laugh, half a sob, and buried her face deeper against his neck.

That did it.

Something low and violent cracked through his chest.

Hess had nearly burned her alive. Would’ve done it without flinching.

Bennett tightened his hold.

Gabe crouched beside them, one hand resting on his knee. “You two all right?”

He didn’t answer right away, just stared past him to the gas can. The scorch mark it could’ve left. The pile of Laurel’s dreams that could’ve gone up with it.

His whole world was in his arms.

“She is,” he eventually said. “If you need us, we’ll be upstairs.”

He stood slowly, bringing Laurel with him, one arm around her waist. She leaned on him—not because she couldn’t walk, but because maybe she trusted him to hold the weight she wasn’t ready to carry yet. And he never took trust lightly.

His gaze drifted toward the front of the shop, and he froze.