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Chapter Nineteen

Perry

Nate was behind me as we waited to board the bus. We were going kayaking, or in Nate and my case, canoeing. I wasn’t sure I was up to riding solo and Nate didn’t want me by myself anyway. I understood. Neither activity would tax my knee too much, and I was thankful we’d be sitting most of the day. I’d gone kayaking and canoeing in the past and knew my arms would most likely feel like Jell-O by the time we were done. It depended on how rapid the current was and how much paddling we had to do.

“It’s been too long since I’ve kayaked,” Delia said. I hadn’t seen her this excited in days and found her happiness contagious.

Going up on tiptoes, I looked around our gathered group and asked, “Is Gabe coming?” I hadn’t seen his ginger head of hair all morning.

Delia shook her head, her tight braid holding her hair neatly in place. “He’s sitting this one out. Malcom has Gabe working on something or other.” Delia waved a dismissive hand in the air as if Gabe’s absence wasn’t that important.

“That’s too bad,” I said sincerely. “I spoke with Gayle last night, and she’s very jealous.” Gayle and I’d gone kayaking when we were in college, before that disastrous night in the alley. She’d tried to get me to go the last couple of years, when my injuries had calmed. I was too afraid I’d slip and fall with my knee the way it was. Now that it was better and I’d had surgery, I thought my knee was stable enough.

“Hmm, if that is the case, then I’ll need to ask Gayle to go with me sometime soon. Maybe we can make a day of it with you and your detective.”

“What are we planning?” Nate asked. He’d been distracted again this morning. It was almost as bad as the first day we arrived. He also hadn’t slept well last night. While I’d been speaking with Gayle, Nate had been on the phone with Nat. She’d found more on Hank Shelton, and it wasn’t good. Just as we’d feared, there were issues with his first wife and his biological children. According to Hank’s first wife, her husband hadn’t gone after their daughters, but there were accusations of abuse toward one of the daughters’ friends. There was evidence, and she’d used that against Hank to ensure he didn’t seek custody of their children.

Nat and Nate were frustrated with Hank’s first wife. While we all understood her desire to keep her children safe, by not following up with her evidence, she’d allowed a predator to go free, and he’d most likely victimized another child, perhaps more than one.

Nate was quiet last night. We’d gone to bed early, and he’d held me a little tighter than strictly necessary. The humid, hot weather had made it a little uncomfortable, but I didn’t try and loosen his grip. Nate needed the contact, and I wanted to do what I could to ease his troubled mind.

Between what he’d found out about Hank Shelton and the ongoing issues with Willie, Nate hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. The dark circles under his eyes were telling, no matter how light he tried to make his voice and actions.

“More kayaking trips,” Delia answered when I remained silent. “This time with Gayle too.”

Nate rubbed his freshly shaved chin. “Sounds good. There are a lot of places around Indy that have facilities.” Nate nodded toward the bus, which was now loading passengers. “I like this plan. No kayaks to load up; they take you to the starting point, and you finish by your parked car—or, in this case, by the park itself.” We’d walked to the bus location today, and according to the instructions we’d been given earlier, the trip would conclude at a docking area located within the park.

So far, I hadn’t seen Malcom anywhere either, but Dr. Schroder was at the front of the line. She was talking in an animated way, with arms flailing this way and that and a huge grin on her face.

“Dr. Schroder looks excited,” I said.

Delia snorted. “There’s a prize for whoever arrives first. A monetary prize,” Delia amended at the end. “That will get nearly anyone excited.”

It hadn’t really geared Nate or me up. While Nate would have probably competed if he were alone in a kayak, he’d already made it crystal clear we weren’t in a hurry to finish and wanted us to take our time, not push ourselves, and enjoy the ride.

The line moved forward, and we climbed onto the bus. Nate and I took a seat together with Delia in front of us. No one sat with her. When the bus started moving forward, I leaned over the seat and asked, “Are you excited about the money?”

Delia smirked and tilted her nose toward the sky. “Oh, honey, I’m always interested in the money. But in this case, it’s all about the bragging rights.”

I leaned back and thought of the first group exercise Malcom had us do—the personality test. Yeah, I was definitely living up to my color. While the extra money would be nice, it wasn’t worth the stress of competing, at least, not to me.

While the retreat was meant to bring Maverick employees together, I couldn’t help but wonder at how competitive a lot of the group activities were. Winning meant a lot to these people.

“ S ky’s getting a little darker,” I said while staring up. We’d been awash in heat, humidity, and blazing sunshine. My dark glasses and sun visor helped. I’d hate to think what state my head would be in if I didn’t have them for protection.

Nate and I were floating, resting our arms. We were far back, everyone having passed us long ago. Nate and I’d brought snacks, and we’d settled in for a leisurely canoe trip down the river. We’d had enough rain that, so far, we hadn’t had to get out and pull the canoe. We’d gotten caught up on some shallows but had been able to push our way free by paddling alone.

While I hadn’t brought my phone, Nate had tucked his inside a Ziploc baggie. He fished it out and brought up the local weather radar.

“So far, so good,” Nate said while sliding his phone back into the protective plastic covering. “I’m not sure how long that will hold up. This soupy humidity is brewing something nasty.”

Weather in Indiana was often unpredictable. It could change on the turn of a dime. A front was coming through later today, and it wasn’t expected to be gentle. We were under a severe thunderstorm watch until the wee hours of the morning. I’d never been in a house with a metal roof during a thunderstorm and wondered what our cabin would sound like if Mother Nature made good on her threats.

Glancing at his watch, Nate said, “It would be best if we made it to the docking point before two, just to be on the safe side.”

“What time is it now?”

“A little after one.”

“And how much farther do we have to go?” I asked. We’d been told some landmarks to keep an eye on that would let us know where we were on the river.

“At our current pace, I’d say about an hour to maybe an hour and a half out.”

“Damn. I’ve liked floating around.”

“Me too,” Nate easily agreed. He’d finally relaxed some, although I’d caught him multiple times staring into the surrounding woods. It was a pointless gesture. Willie was out there. Of that, I had no doubt. He probably had eyes on us right this minute. But he’d had eyes on us before. If Willie simply wanted to put a bullet in my head and call it a day, he could have done that months ago. I didn’t see why today would be any more promising than all the others he'd passed up. Having no idea how Willie’s mind worked, I didn’t know what he was waiting on. Honestly, I thought he was getting too much sick enjoyment out of popping up unexpectedly and metaphorically poking at me.

The trees surrounding the river were quiet. The air was heated and heavy. A breeze was a wishful thought at this point. If the weather forecast panned out, the wind would be brutal later today and possibly overnight.

I followed Nate’s lead and began paddling, pulling our little canoe along the river. The current wasn’t very strong, and the river wasn’t really all that deep. We’d had decent rain this summer, and I was surprised how many times we bottomed out. From what our guide had said, we should be heading into a deeper part of the river. Deeper only meant four feet in our case. If we tipped, all we’d need to do was stand up. No swimming required.

My back strained, along with my arms, but it was a good kind of pain. I’d been sedentary for so long that I’d almost forgotten the difference between muscle fatigue and muscle agony.

“You doing okay back there?” Nate asked. He’d taken the front of the canoe when we’d boarded.

“Super,” I responded, and we both ignored how winded that singular word was.

“Good to know. Speak up if something changes.”

“Will do,” I answered easily. I didn’t fear feeling weak in front of Nate. We continued paddling. While we weren’t breaking any river speed record, we were cutting a quicker path than our languid floating from earlier.

Toward the shore, I caught a glimpse of a duck with her ducklings. Leaning forward, I poked Nate in the back to get his attention and pointed out the young family.

“Fuck, they’re cute,” Nate said when he spied the group. “Grab my phone and get a photo.”

Bending over, I was reaching for Nate’s phone when a loud pop sounded from the right. Seconds later, a tearing sound assaulted my ears as pieces of our canoe hull splintered and slammed into my legs.

“Christ. Get down!” Nate screamed before turning and pushing my body into the shallow canoe, his larger frame covering mine. My heart hammered, and my mind faded into static. My sunglasses were askew, possibly broken when Nate pushed me down, and my sun visor was barely hanging onto my head.

Curled into the fetal position, I lay there with my eyes slammed closed.

“Perry, are you okay?” Nate’s body still covered mine, and his voice sounded muffled. “Are you hit?”

I think I blinked as I tried processing what Nate was asking. Was I hit? I knew enough to understand he wasn’t talking about the canoe shrapnel.

I shook my head before I realized Nate probably couldn’t see me and finally answered “I’m okay.” That was only true if we were talking about a bullet lodged in my flesh because right now, I felt a long way away from okay. “What about you?” Panic suddenly seized my gut. Nate was lying on top of me, acting like a human shield. Wiggling, I tried pushing him off me. Nate getting hurt instead of me was not acceptable on any known planet.

“Keep still,” Nate chastised.

“Not if that means you’ll get hurt,” I argued back.

Nate huffed and I couldn’t make out what he said.

Silence filled the air. Even the birds had gone quiet. I had no idea where we were in the river. Had we drifted toward shore? Were we closer to where that shot had come from, or were we across the river?

Nate shifted and his voice was suddenly a lot clearer. He remained on top of me, stubbornly shielding me. “Listen, I’m going over the side of the canoe and into the river. I want you to stay down. I—”

“You are not sacrificing yourself for me.” I raised my voice, making myself crystal clear.

Nate’s fingers wound around my nape, applying gentle but constant pressure. “Neither one of us is sacrificing ourselves. Currently, I’ve got more physical stamina than you. I’m the stronger swimmer. Sitting up in the canoe will only make us easier targets, and I think you can agree that neither of us wants to make anything easier for Willie.”

I swallowed hard and asked a stupid question. “Willie shot at me?”

Nate paused before answering, “He shot at the canoe. I think if he’d wanted to hit you, he would have.”

“More fucking mind games.” My words were more feral growl than human.

“Probably. Still, I’m not taking any chances. I’m going over the edge. I’ll swim and guide the canoe. Hell, as shallow as the water is, I’ll just have to walk along the river bottom. You stay where you are—flat against the canoe bottom. We’re close to the rendezvous point. It shouldn’t take long.”

I wasn’t a fan of the plan, but I also couldn’t argue against it. Nate was right. He was physically stronger than me. My knee was better, but I didn’t trust it to do the labor that would be required. If there were no other choice, I’d make it work. Right now, we did have another option and it would be stupid to let my pride place us in graver danger.

Reluctantly, I answered, “Okay. Just…be careful.”

Nate pressed his lips to my temple, a quiet “always” slipping past his lips before his weight was suddenly gone, and a quiet splash echoed to the left. The canoe tipped dangerously, but Nate kept it from flipping. If the river had been deeper, he might have recommended we do just that and hide under the canoe. Unfortunately, neither of us knew the area well enough to try and navigate it blind like that.

“Here we go,” Nate said, and soon the canoe moved faster. It was difficult to gauge speed and distance with my body smashed to the bottom, making myself as small of a target as possible.

“You still with me?” Nate asked.

“I’m here,” I answered.

“Good. Keep talking to me. Tell me about how you got Apollo and Starbuck.”

“My memory might be shitty sometimes, but I do remember we already discussed that.” I wasn’t sure what Nate was trying to do.

“I know, but tell me again. I want to hear your voice.”

Nate couldn’t see my eye roll. Despite thinking Nate had a few screws loose, I started in on the tale. It wasn’t all that exciting or riveting. The boys had more found me than the other way around. I think that’s the story behind a lot of cat adoptions. I rambled on and on, going through all their firsts and the interesting quirks they inevitably developed. As I talked, my heart slowed, and my breathing evened out. Calm crept in, replacing the panicked jitters shaking my body and rocking the canoe.

Only when I’d calmed down did I understand the method behind Nate’s seeming madness. He’d gotten me talking about a subject that gave me peace. It was a story I knew by heart and didn’t have to pressure my brain to remember. It was perfect.

I’d finished that story and had gone onto another when Nate finally said, “I can see the docking point.”

“Thank God,” I said with feeling.

Water sluiced around the canoe as Nate guided the canoe to shore. I remained where I was, curled up, muscles tight and cramped. Nate’s dripping hand landed on my shoulder and gently shook me. “Perry, can you stand?”

I was back to shaking. Despite that, or maybe because of it, I nodded and pushed myself up. The side of my body was soaking wet from the water that had gotten into the canoe. Even still, I had nothing on Nate’s soaked clothes. He’d be freezing if it were colder out.

Someone whistled and when I twisted enough to see who it was, I was confronted with one of the canoe company’s employees, the bright orange shirt giving him away.

“What happened to you guys?” he asked while crouching and inspecting the damaged side of the canoe.

“Perry?” Malcom’s concerned voice floated down the steps leading to higher ground. When I looked up, Malcom was leaning over the railing, a deep frown pulling at his lips. Nate’s grip on my shoulder tightened to the point of pain.

“I’m good now,” I said, trying to get Nate’s attention and to let him know he could release me.

Nate’s gaze swung in my direction, and his widened eyes let me know he understood. “Shit, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” Nate’s grip eased. Slipping his hands beneath my armpits, Nate lifted me out of the canoe and onto dry ground. When Nate’s complexion turned ashen, I knew he finally saw the blood. His mouth slipped open, and time froze.

“Y-you’re hit. You told me you weren’t hit.” Nate’s voice shook. I’d never heard him that unsure, that frightened, before.

I shook my head vehemently. “I wasn’t. Not like you think. Some of the splintered canoe hit me. That’s all.”

Nate sucked in a hissed breath. “Fucking hell. I didn’t know you were injured. Why didn’t you say anything?” Nate’s hands ran down my thigh, careful of the cut-up flesh.

“It wasn’t that bad, and we needed to get out of there. Telling you would have only made you worry more and slowed us down. I’m fine. Nothing that a little cleanup and some antibacterial ointment won’t fix.”

Nate stepped back and pushed his fingers through his wet hair. “Fuck,” he cursed, then repeated the word two more times for good measure.

“What happened?” Malcom was much closer now. He’d descended the stairs and strode across the short distance to meet us.

The canoe company employee spoke up first and said, “I’ll need to tell the boss about this. The canoe wasn’t in this condition when it was launched.” The guy appeared conflicted and maybe a bit apologetic.

Malcom waved him off. “Maverick Insurance will pay for the damages. I’m not concerned with the—”

“You!” Nate lunged, grabbing Malcom’s T-shirt and gripping the fabric in his fist. “This is your fucking fault.”

I grabbed a hold of Nate’s arm and tried to pull him back. “Nate, it’s not Malcom’s fault. He didn’t—”

“The hell it isn’t,” Nate fumed. “You don’t know what this man is, what he’s capable of.”

Desperately, I tugged at Nate’s arm. I’d known Nate wasn’t fond of Malcom, but I’d had no idea just how much he didn’t like him. Still, this wasn’t Malcom’s fault, and Nate was out of line, no matter how upset he was.

Malcom stared, eyes narrowed and coldly controlled. He didn’t say a word, and he didn’t fight back. He just stood there, allowing Nate to berate him.

Unsure what else to do, I leaned in and wrapped my arms around Nate’s soaked, vibrating body. “Malcom didn’t shoot at us, Nate. It’s not his fault.” It was beyond difficult trying to reason with Nate. I’d never seen him this upset. I knew it came from a place of fear, but accusing Malcom of trying to hurt me was crazy.

One minute, Nate had a death grip on Malcom’s shirt; the next, he released him and stepped back, Nate’s body vibrating with anger. His muscular forearms tensed, veins popping out and straining. I held on, afraid that if I let go, Nate would lunge for Malcom again.

The air crackled with Nate’s fury, but that rage was tempered by Malcom’s cool composure. I had no idea how my boss could simply stand there and take Nate’s verbal and somewhat physical abuse. And yet, that’s exactly what Malcom did.

“Are you finished, Detective Harmon?” Malcom’s tone was calm but not cold.

Nate’s lips twisted into a snarl. “I haven’t even fucking started.”

I sucked in a shocked gasp, afraid of what Malcom would say, but when I chanced a look Malcom’s direction, it wasn’t anger I saw lighting his eyes. It was amusement. “Spoken like a man in love. Love makes one either brave or stupid. Time always determines the outcome.”

The eyes on the young man in the orange shirt ping-ponged between Nate and Malcom, their whites clearly visible. When there was a break, and Nate had visibly backed off, the employee said, “Dude, are you telling me someone shot at you? Out here?” He shook his head, slightly displacing his manbun.

Turning his attention from Nate, Malcom relaxed visibly, and a congenial smile took the place of his thin-lipped indifference. Malcom’s tanned hand looked odd against the background color of neon orange as he placed his palm on the employee’s shoulder.

“What’s your name?” Malcom asked.

“Braxton,” the young man easily answered.

“Braxton. That’s a handsome name. Now, why don’t you direct me to the owner of this business so we can discuss restitution?” Waving a dismissive hand, Malcom said, “I seriously doubt it was actual gunfire. Most likely there was a weak spot on the canoe, and Nate and Perry hit that area too hard on a rock.”

“I don’t think that—”

“We’ll get it all straightened out,” Malcom reassured him. “I’m sure your employer and I can come to some sort of financial agreement. Maybe even a little something extra for you, given your efforts today.”

Braxton scratched his head as he walked away. I could barely hear him say, “That would be appreciated, I’m starting college this fall and…” Everything else drifted away, my attention firmly focused on Nate.

Inhaling, I held my breath for a good ten seconds, released, and repeated the process two more times before I said, “I know you’re scared, but that was uncalled for, and you know it.”

Nate’s back was to me, hands clenched and muscles tight. For the first time in a very long time, I had no idea what was going through my fiancé’s mind.