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“NETTIE, ARE YOU all right?” Max asked, concern etched on his face as he stood beside her, both watching intently as Casper—no, Mr. McNabb—drove away in his Jeep, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.
Their meeting had been an unexpected confrontation, unwelcome due to his unsettling connection to a pending case that weighed heavily on her mind. Despite her resolve to remain detached, his presence ignited a complex storm of emotions within her—feelings she was reluctant to explore or acknowledge. She couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as she processed the reality that the man, eleven years her senior, had expressed a desire for her.
Was she merely some coveted youth trophy to him, something to be won? Or was it all part of a cunning manipulation designed to sway her away from pursuing justice against his brother? The thought gnawed at her conscience, filling her with doubt and confusion as she questioned her worth and the true nature of his intentions. Would she allow herself to become just another piece on his chessboard?
“Nettie?” Max asked in a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to disturb her thoughts.
Nettie shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the swirling thoughts that clouded her mind, and smiled. “I’m fine, Max. Why don’t you and Ryan come in for some dinner? I can whip it up in no time.” As she spoke, an echo of uncertainty tugged at her. She realized she wasn’t entirely sure what she could prepare given her current pantry state. The last time she had stocked her supplies felt like ages ago, and the empty shelves in her refrigerator were a stark reminder. A thought of her freezer recalled it was nearly barren, save for a tub of ice cream, a comforting treat she kept for nights like this when her racing thoughts occasionally strayed from the grip of the law.
Max pondered for a moment, his brow furrowed. “We’d appreciate the meal, but we’ll switch over before you have time to cook,” he replied, his tone a blend of gratitude and concern.
Relieved at being excused from the duty, she took a deep breath and nodded, her mind drifting to the comfort of home. She inserted the key into the lock as she approached her front door, feeling the cool metal against her fingers. Max cleared his throat, instantly pulling her attention back to the present. She turned to him, a smile spreading across her face despite the tension in the air. “Change your mind already?” she asked, half-joking but hopeful that he might relent.
Max, however, shook his head firmly, his expression serious. “Nettie, you know I have to clear your house before you can enter,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for debate.
Nettie’s heart sank as she realized her earlier relief was fleeting. Temporarily lost in that relief, she had completely overlooked the potential danger lurking within her walls. The intrusion into her life—the precautions Max was taking—meant he truly cared for her safety, yet it felt invasive and stifling. She hadn’t fully registered the weight of that responsibility or the implications of someone else’s control over her personal space. It struck her with a mix of gratitude and frustration. She was grateful for Max’s vigilance but frustrated by the sudden reminder of her precarious situation.
She stepped back, creating space for Max to slip past her on the concrete porch, and offered him a polite smile. “Please do,” she said. As Max moved on, Ryan approached the porch with a purposeful stride, glancing back to ensure everything was in order.
With a sigh, she turned her gaze toward Ryan as he stood nearby. “Tough day, prosecutor?” he inquired.
The day’s weight hung heavily in the air, prompting an unspoken understanding between them.
Nettie’s first instinct was to deny her feelings, a reflex borne out of shock and disbelief. However, as the weight of the day pressed down on her, she felt an overwhelming fatigue wash over her. With a reluctant resignation, she sank into the comfortable embrace of a wicker chair, letting out a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the burdens of her emotions. “Yes,” she admitted softly. Had it really been only that morning when the shooting had shattered her reality? The day had unfolded with relentless activity, each moment packed with the chaos of afternoon court proceedings and the formidable presence of Mr. McNabb. Amid all this turmoil, she had forced herself to shove the traumatic experience into the recesses of her mind, trying to ignore its haunting presence. Yet, it lingered, waiting to be acknowledged.
“Don’t worry,” Ryan said. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”
She smiled warmly at him, captivated by his endearing, boyish charm, which radiated an aura of innocence and enthusiasm. Ryan was almost the same age as she was, and memories of him asking her out on a date filled her mind—an invitation that had stirred a flurry of emotions within her. She believed she should be drawn to this kind of man—vibrant and close to her age instead of someone significantly older like Mr. McNabb.
Yet, a persistent whisper in her mind reminded her that Mr. McNabb was only eleven years her senior, a difference that felt minor in the broad spectrum of her life experiences. At just twenty-five years old, the weight of those eleven years felt daunting, as if they represented an insurmountable chasm in their worlds, filled with complexities and expectations that she was not sure she was ready to bridge.
Nettie felt an overwhelming wave of frustration wash over her. Why was her mind stubbornly fixated on Mr. McNabb? He was, in every conceivable way, her adversary in the courtroom. To her, he epitomized everything that obstructed her quest for justice, failing to comprehend the depth of her commitment to uphold the law. Even his brother, involved in the tangled web of their legal battle, was no exception to her disdain.
Max stepped out as the door swung open, his expression brightening as he smiled reassuringly at her. “All clear,” he declared.
Thank goodness, Nettie thought, relief flooding her senses. She felt utterly spent, unable to take on another challenge that day. The warm glow of the porch light illuminated the scene, casting a soft light over the two deputies standing beside her, their faces taut with watchfulness. It enveloped her in a cocoon of cautious safety at the end of a long day.
“Thank you, both,” she said with genuine gratitude. “I truly wish there was something I could do to express my appreciation more properly.”
Max chuckled softly, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Well, Ryan would probably appreciate a date,” he suggested playfully, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Nettie’s gaze flicked to Ryan, who immediately turned away, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson as the embarrassment washed over him. The moment was both amusing and endearing, capturing the camaraderie among them.
“But what we’d both like,” Max continued, his tone shifting to a more serious note, “is for you to continue to trust us and to fight hard for the law.” His words hung in the air, a reminder of the shared commitment they all bore.
She nodded, feeling a surge of determination. Upholding the law was a duty she could embrace wholeheartedly. It was her true calling. While sweetly tempting, the idea of a date with Ryan could wait. What mattered most was her unwavering resolve in the pursuit of justice.
“I can do that.” She turned, the soft creak of the door punctuating her resolve, as she slipped inside her cozy house. The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned against it, feeling its solid weight like a lifeline holding her steady. With her eyes closed, she inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar scent, and waged an internal battle to push away the thoughts swirling in her mind. The day had been long and taxing. She knew she needed to meditate, to work through the tension that clung to her like a second skin.
As she opened her eyes, the world came back into focus, vibrant and welcoming. She dropped her keys into a blue, seashell-shaped tray on a side table—a small, decorative piece that reminded her of sun-soaked beaches and tranquil waves. Her purse thudded quietly onto the floor, the day’s burdens momentarily forgotten. She kicked off her heels, feeling the instant relief spread through her feet, and with a practiced motion, bent down to retrieve her navy blue shoes.
With a purpose, she made her way to the bedroom, eager to change into something more comfortable. She rifled through her drawer, selecting a soft, worn pair of pajamas—something cozy yet unpretentious, just in case the deputies decided to check on her later in the evening. A sudden thought struck her: she hadn’t inquired who would relieve Ryan and Max for their evening shift.
But then she brushed the thought aside, convincing herself it didn’t matter. If everything unfolded as planned, she wouldn’t see them anyway—just Max and Ryan in the early morning light when she arrived at work. Yet, a subtle worry tugged at her mind. She was set to leave earlier than usual tomorrow. Well, perhaps only time could tell the outcome of the night ahead.
After meditating, Nettie was enveloped in indecision. The calming practice usually brought clarity, but tonight was different. Instead of diving into her usual routine of reviewing dense case files and meticulously preparing for court, she faced an unexpected void. Her boss had explicitly instructed her not to take work home tonight, leaving her with a rare evening.
The house was spotless, a testament to the diligent weekly house cleaner who had come by just two days ago, meticulously scrubbing every surface until everything sparkled. With her surroundings tidy, the only mess left was the clutter of her scattered and unresolved thoughts. She considered turning on the television, but scrolling through the channels usually made her feel more lost. Besides the evening news, which she found dull, she hadn’t watched television in ages and felt utterly out of touch with what was popular.
Books filled the shelves in the living room, their spines well-worn, but the prospect of diving into another story held little appeal. Instead, an idea began to blossom—maybe a bubble bath would do her some good. It had been an eternity since she had indulged in such a relaxing luxury, and the thought of warm water soothing her body seemed irresistible.
Setting her mind on that comforting notion, Nettie went to the bathroom. She envisioned a glass of crisp white wine to sip while she soaked, soft music playing in the background to create an oasis of calm. As she prepared, she could almost taste the wine, its coolness contrasting with the warmth she was about to envelop herself in.
When the water warmed under her hand in the old, claw-foot tub, she added bath salts and a splash of bubble bath, watching as the water transformed into a frothy cloud of bubbles. The scent wafting up from the bath products was unfamiliar. It had been a gift from Joann last Christmas, and she hadn’t thought to use it until now. Here it was September, and the bottle still sat unopened—a testament to her busy life and the neglect of small pleasures. But tonight, she would savor the moment, letting the warm embrace of the bath wash away the remnants of a long, taxing day and perhaps even reignite a part of herself that had been submerged beneath the surface for far too long.
As she settled into the warm embrace of the bathwater, the soothing heat enveloped her body, lulling her into a gentle state of relaxation. As she drifted off, her mind, instead of finding peace, was a swirling storm of emotions and thoughts. Images of Mr. McNabb flickered in her mind like shadows, his deep voice echoing the words he had spoken so earnestly: he wanted her. His intense gaze, filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability, consumed her thoughts, stirring a blend of anticipation and confusion within her as she floated between sleep and consciousness.