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RORY

It’s still hard to believe it’s all over.

Even three days later, with both Karl Mavers and Elliott Ford in jail and the danger eliminated, I still have moments when it doesn’t feel real.

When I wake up from a nightmare in a cold sweat, heart pounding out of my chest, my half-awake self certain that Mavers is coming after me.

That Gage never caught him, and my would-be killer is still out there, plotting his third attempt on my life.

When I told Isla everything that happened—Mavers contracted to kill me through a dark web site, hired by the man who owned the boat company that caused my parents’ deaths—it felt like I was talking about someone else.

This crazy story couldn’t be about my life.

Not when I’ve spent decades trying to fade into the background.

How could someone actually want me dead?

But in the aftermath of Gage and Alec’s nighttime trip to Portsmouth, amid the hours of testimony from Karl Mavers, and later, the reluctant confession of Elliott Ford, I found out why.

Money.

When Elliott Ford took over Atlantic Adventures after his father passed away five years ago, he didn’t think much of the structured settlement I’ve been receiving since I was seventeen. The company was in the black back then, and the yearly payment didn’t make much of an impact on its finances.

But four years later, after a string of bad decisions, the company wasn’t doing nearly as well. On the verge of collapse, Ford admitted to the police, and sure to go under within a year or two if he couldn’t figure out a solution.

Other people might have turned to investors.

Creative marketing. Paring down. Or selling off the company and using the profits to pay off the massive debts.

Not Elliott Ford. He saw the four-hundred K I get each year and decided that was the best solution.

Kill me off and the settlement ends, since it doesn’t extend to the rest of my family.

In his mind, apparently, it was a worthy trade-off. Fifty thousand to take me out of the equation, saving him hundreds of thousands as a result.

I guess it really is blood money in more ways than I thought.

Every time I think about it, I feel sick to my stomach.

Maybe that’s part of what makes this all feel so surreal. What happened… it’s more like a story I’d read about online, or a plot from an episode of Law and Order . It’s not supposed to be my life.

I’m relieved that it’s over. Of course I am.

I’m endlessly thankful to the GMG team for all their help, and especially for Gage’s unwavering support and protection.

I’m eager to get back to my normal life, taking care of the dogs, venturing into town whenever I want, and maybe even trying to be a little more social than I used to be.

But I’m also conflicted.

I’m not sure my normal life will be the normal I’m used to. I’m not sure I want it to be.

Which is why I’ve been laying in bed staring at the ceiling for the last half hour; my mind spinning, instead of sleeping like Gage still is.

I should be cuddled into his side, my head on his chest and his arm wrapped around me, my leg draped across his.

I should be warm and cozy and content instead of tense with anxiety and indecision.

I should be happy. I’m safe. The dogs are all safe, with several of them already lined up with adoptive families. My case is on track to be closed—according to the police, the evidence they have on Mavers and Ford is more than enough for a conviction.

And I have Gage. The incredible man sleeping next to me.

He’s been staying here every night since the first time he slept over; the night of joyous highs and a terrifying low.

He didn’t want to leave me the following night, and then we just sort of…

fell into it. Dinner, watching TV, sex—making love, it feels more like, to me—and finally falling asleep tangled up together.

Is our relationship moving quickly? Maybe? In one way, yes. We haven’t been dating for that long. But does it matter when it feels so perfect? When he feels like the man I’ve been waiting for all my life?

I think that’s one of the reasons?—

“Ror, are you okay?”

Gage turns on his side to look at me, his gaze alert even though he just woke up. It must be one of those things he learned in the Army, being able to wake on a dime, unlike me, who takes a good half hour to feel remotely human.

“I’m fine,” I reply automatically. “Why?”

He pulls me into his arms, so we’re facing each other.

Then he traces his finger across my forehead.

“Because you have a little worry line right there. And you weren’t snuggled up to me like you usually are.

And—” His lips brush across mine. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re worried about something. ”

Wow. He’s good. Still. I don’t really want to start our morning off by unloading my worries on him. Especially not when he’s already had to deal with enough of my crap.

“I’m okay. Really. I just woke up early.”

“Ror.” A slight frown pulls at his features. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right? If something is bothering you, I want to know.” He pauses. “I mean, you don’t have to. I’m not trying to push you. But if you’re worried…”

While my instinct is to double down on being okay, what if the positions were reversed and Gage were the one laying in bed, tense and worried? Wouldn’t I want to know?

Pushing into a seated position, I hug my knees to my chest. “I guess… I’m having a hard time dealing with some things.”

Gage sits up and loops his arm around my shoulder, gently tugging me into his side. His eyes darken with concern. “What things, baby?”

I let out a heavy sigh. “The money. The settlement, I mean.”

“What about it?”

“I feel guilty. I mean… I never felt good about the money, but using it for the shelter seemed okay. I could never have bought the property or the kennels or… any of it, really. Not without the money I get every year. But now… I keep thinking about the people who work for Atlantic Adventures. The ones who’ll lose their jobs because of the money I’m getting. ”

There’s no hesitation. “Rory, that is not on you. Not in the least. Before the son took over, the company was fine.” His jaw tightens. “And honestly, Ror. It should have shut down after you were hurt. What they let happen was inexcusable.”

“I know.” My chest squeezes. “But the employees, it wasn’t their fault. Not the ones who work there now. And they’re the ones?—”

Gage lifts me into his lap. He strokes my hair back from my face.

“Baby. The employees will find new jobs. Or someone will buy the company and keep it running. Either way, it’s not your fault.

You shouldn’t feel guilty at all. And what you’re doing with the money is incredible.

You could do anything with it. Go on trips. Buy expensive cars. Designer clothes?—”

I snort.

“Fine, maybe not designer clothes,” he amends with a chuckle. “But you’re doing a good thing, Ror. I’ll support you with whatever you choose. But I swear to you, there’s nothing to feel guilty about.”

Resting my head on his shoulder, I let his words sink in. Am I convinced? Not quite. But I definitely feel better.

“Is that everything?” he asks. “Are you worried about Mavers or Ford getting out? Because they won’t. Enzo talked to Officer Nelson. She said the judge is denying bail for both of them.”

That’s a relief; yes. But it’s not what I’m worried about.

Now that the danger is gone, there’s no reason for me to stay at GMG anymore. Which is a good thing, in theory. It means they can use the cabin for another pro-bono client. It means I can bring the dogs back to the kennel. Open the shelter again.

But it also means I won’t see Gage all the time.

It means I’ll be alone in a house that I’m not sure I feel safe in anymore.

Will he still spend every night with me when we live fifteen minutes apart? Would he even want to?

Yes, I feel a connection with Gage that I’ve never felt with anyone before. And I know he cares about me, too. But he has his own life. His own home. Responsibilities I know he’s neglected while he’s been spending so much time with me.

In my heart of hearts, I wish he’d stay with me. But it’s too soon to ask.

So I shove my nagging worries down. Give myself a mental pep talk. Smile at Gage. “I’m just thinking about the dogs. That’s all. Getting them back to the barn, figuring out which families might want to adopt, that kind of thing. But nothing to worry about.”

Gage’s expression stills. Something unreadable flickers in his gaze. “So you’re making plans to go back to your house already?”

“I guess I figured I should. With everything…”

“I think it would be better if you stayed here a little longer. Just to be safe.” His arms tighten momentarily around me. “I want to make absolutely sure Mavers or Ford didn’t have an accomplice. Alec doesn’t think so, but let’s give him a few more days to investigate. Is that okay?”

My heart makes a tiny, hopeful jump. Stay here with Gage for a few more days? Not have to deal with the yawning uncertainty of my house for a little longer?

“Yes.” I straddle him, tucking up my legs on either side of his. “It’s okay.”

His lips press to the top of my head. His chest rises. Falls. His breath feathers across my hair. “Okay.”

Then he tilts his head back to look at me. “I was thinking. I have a meeting with the program developers at eight-thirty. But it should only be an hour or so. Maybe afterwards, we could have another picnic in the woods? Then have a lazy day here?—”

“Is sex a part of that plan?” My fingers trail along the waistband of his shorts. His stomach muscles twitch. “I think it should be.”

His pupils dilate. The morning bulge between his legs jumps. “I think we could work that into the schedule.”