Page 13

CHAPTER 12

Audra stared at the docks. The morning had ticked by at a snail’s pace as she waited to hear from Dawson. Minutes turned into hours, and it was well past the lunch. She’d given up all hope of going back out into the Everglades for another day of python hunting. A slight breeze rippled across the water. A few hunters milled about, staring—more like glaring. A searing pain tore at her heart. This town was her home. Her soul. All she’d ever wanted was to belong. To fit in. To be anything other than a swamp monster.

“You probably shouldn’t have told me about your conversation with Trevor,” she said softly.

“Nope. But I did.” Dawson lifted her chin. “Am I going to regret doing that?”

“I can keep a secret.” She nodded. “It just seems weird he’d do that.”

“It is. But there was no reason for me not to agree to it. I don’t believe in coincidences and too many strange things have happened. I’ve got to connect the pieces and if Trevor has intel that will help me, I need to find a way to get him talking. Trading it for his protection is something we do all the time, if it puts bigger fish away.”

“I struggle to believe Trevor isn’t one of the big fish, but maybe he did turn over a new leaf. Anything’s possible.” She sighed.

“Are you going to be okay?” Dawson asked softly. His long fingers rested on her shoulders, squeezing gently.

Shoving all the painful emotions and memories back into the dark corner of her mind, she pulled open her car door and tossed her bag across the seat. “I’m just driving back to the cabins. I’ll be fine.”

Dawson took her by the forearms. “I’ll follow you just to be safe.”

She sighed again, realizing that’s exactly what she wanted. Needed. For the first time in her adult life, she allowed another human to worm his way into her bloodstream. It felt warm and comfortable. No. It was more than that. She craved it. Desired it. Even demanded it. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” He took her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” He leaned in and tenderly brushed his lips over hers in a sweet kiss.

If knees could buckle, hers did. She gripped his shoulders, wrapping her tongue around his, swirling and sucking it into her mouth in a desperate attempt to feel everything he had to give.

She shuddered, remembering where she stood. “People are staring,” she whispered.

“And you think I care?”

“You should,” she managed. “Everyone thinks I?—”

He hushed her with another passionate kiss—one that matched the last one and then some.

Heat rose to her cheeks.

He pulled back, and his lips curved seductively upward. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“And you’re a pain in the ass.” She eased behind the steering wheel, glancing around the parking lot. Baily stepped from the marina shop. She smiled and waved. At least there was one other person who didn’t look at Audra as if she were a scum-sucking bottom-feeder. “You know I’ll have to go back out there tomorrow. I do have an article to write.”

“If all goes well, I can go with you.”

“You’re not my babysitter.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps not, but I don’t want you out there alone. Not with what people are thinking and saying.” He batted her nose. “And it is my job to protect the citizens of this town.”

“Well, I don’t live here.”

“That’s a technicality.” He reached across her and tugged at the seat belt. “Don’t make me chase you down the street. I won’t hesitate to turn on my lights and pull you over.”

Her lips twitched. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Only if I get to break out the handcuffs and get to use them…in bed.”

She laughed. “Oh my God. You’re insufferable.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He closed the door and strutted across the parking lot with that sexy swagger.

Audra sucked in a deep breath. She’d expected to be treated like an outsider when she returned.

But she’d never anticipated Dawson. He was something else.

She put her vehicle in gear and pulled out of the parking lot, Dawson right on her ass.

A weird rattling noise vibrated from somewhere inside her car. Shit. Her car was older, but it had served her well. The last thing she needed was for it to have issues in this small town. The local body shop was owned by Mark Lamin and his old man. Mark was a nice enough guy, but he’d been friends with Ken.

Not someone she wanted to spend any time with.

Or ask for help.

Maybe Dawson knew something about cars. Worst case, she could always ask Trinity. Her dad owned a bunch of dealerships.

Or Hondo. Yeah, Hondo had been a bit of a grease monkey back in the day. She’d stop in at the office and have a little chat with Lilly when she got back to the cabins.

Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.

What a weird noise. It didn’t sound mechanical. No. It was more like something was falling apart.

She glanced in her rearview mirror.

Dawson was still literally right behind her. He gave her a little finger wave. The man was too damned adorable. If she were anyone else, she might consider staying in this stupid town a little longer just for him. But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. And not only because of what Calusa Cove represented, but because no one wanted her here.

Baily and Trinity were nice enough. Welcoming enough. But even their kindness had a timetable on it, and it would end the second the Python Challenge was over.

She turned into Harvey’s Cabins and rolled to a stop in one of the designated spots near Dawson’s unit. She collected her purse and made her way to the rear of her vehicle, popping the trunk.

“Let me get that for you.” Dawson jumped in front of her. “That’s a lot of equipment.” He lifted the hatch.

Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.

“Do you hear that?” She reached into the trunk to grab the smaller bag. “I heard it the whole way home.”

Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.

It got louder. And louder.

She handed Dawson the bag and went for the larger camera case when two beady little eyes locked with hers. A long, forked tongue darted out of the snake’s mouth as it coiled in the corner, its rattle raised high, singing its warning.

“Don’t move,” Dawson whispered, his hand on his weapon, slowly releasing it from its holster. “We need to shut your trunk.”

“I’ll reach for it,” she said so softly. She hoped he heard her because the only sound that rang in her ears was a combination of the beating of her heart and the singing of the rattle. It was as if the two were in perfect harmony.

It wasn’t a pretty sound.

She held her breath as she slowly reached for the trunk hatch.

The snake inched back, coiling tighter. Its eyes narrowed and then widened. Its tongue waggled as if it were tasting her smell.

And then, in a split second, it lunged forward with a hungry mouth… poison dripping from its fangs.

With her left hand, she reached for the beast’s head, and with her right, she pushed Dawson. “Don’t shoot it,” she managed with a ragged breath as her fingers curled around the snake’s neck. She squeezed. Tight.

The rattlesnake’s tail flipped and flopped, smacking her hip. Her elbow. Even her cheek, as if to slap her for daring to destroy its ability to bite.

“Jesus Christ.” Dawson adjusted his weapon and shook his body. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Could you please get me one of those python bags to put this snake in? Last I checked, it’s still illegal to kill these things in the state of Florida.”

Dawson snagged a bag and held it open. She eased the nasty three-foot thing into the bag. The damn thing went wild.

“It’s not illegal if your life is in danger, and I’d say our lives were in question,” Dawson said, setting the bag down. He pulled out his cell phone and tapped on the screen. “I can get Keaton here within the next fifteen minutes.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy.” She shivered. “That thing was roaming free while I was driving.”

“Damn lucky it didn’t bite you on the way home.” He took her by the hand as he spoke into the phone. “Keaton, I need you at the Harvey Cabins ASAP to take care of a snake. No, not a python. A rattler.” His gaze met Audra’s. “We found it in Audra’s car. I’ll also need you to check for any other stowaways.” He paused to listen. “No idea how it got there.” Again, he listened. “See you in fifteen.” Dawson ended the call, dropped his cell phone into his pocket, and reached out to tuck a strand of fiery red hair behind Audra’s ear. “I can’t believe you snagged that rattler the way you did.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Putting on my cop hat for a second, I have to wonder if?—”

“Someone put that bastard in there on purpose.” She inched closer, peering inside the window, looking for more. “It makes sense. Whoever killed Tim would’ve seen my car there. They put my shirt under his body. It's just another way to get rid of me. But why?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” He palmed her cheek. “My conversation with Silas had me thinking something new.”

Her brow dipped. “I don’t trust that man.”

“I think he might be more on your side than either of us thought, but we’ll table that for now.” He bent over, lifted the snake bag, and set it on the side of the porch. Then he lifted her camera bag. “When I was in the Navy, specifically as a SEAL, one of the tactics we used on missions was redirection.”

“In theory, I’m aware of what that means.” With her insides shaking like the buttons on that snake, she followed him inside the cabin.

“Calusa Cove is focused on you and what you’re doing. Everything that’s happening has you at the center and me chasing my tail.” He set her bag on the counter. “I honestly believe James and Eliot meant to put that dynamite on your boat.”

“And blow me up,” she muttered.

“No. I think they wanted to report it missing, have me find it, and arrest you. The question is, why? Right now, the only connection to the town they seem to have is Benson.”

“That means they’re connected to Paul.”

“That could be true.” Dawson leaned against the counter. “When that plan failed, they came at you on the water. We don’t know who that masked man was who untied your boat and cut the fuel line, but they didn’t want you finding remnants on that island, like old wood that belonged to crates used to hide cocaine.”

“What are you talking about?” Audra stared at Dawson. She blinked. “What crates? What cocaine? Am I going to want to throttle you?”

“Probably,” he said, grimacing.

She made her way to the liquor cabinet and pulled down a bottle of tequila, pouring herself a nice glass on the rocks. She didn’t bother offering one to Dawson, knowing he was still on duty for a few more hours. She plopped herself on the sofa and sipped her beverage. “I’m listening.”

“I sent the wood you saw on the island with no name to the Feds and the DEA. It came back that it’s possible the paint markings are from an incredibly old case. A seventeen-year-old case,” Dawson leaned against the counter with an arched brow.

Her hand paused with the glass halfway to her mouth. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I were.” He shook his head. “Your dad wasn’t crazy at all.”

“No, he wasn’t. But he did suffer from a mental illness. No denying that. And he mixed shit up all the time.” She set the glass on the end table, guilt gnawing at her gut. “He knew something was going on back there in the swamp.” She’d gone along with him that night, not because she’d believed him, but because he was her father, and she’d felt bad about their earlier argument.

“Well, he was right, and something tells me it never stopped,” Dawson said, glancing at his cell. “It might have paused. Or even slowed down. But someone—and my guess, a local—is still running drugs through Calusa Cove, and I’m going to put a stop to it.”

She smiled. “Is it weird that I’m turned on by how you said that?”

“No.” He laughed. “Felt kind of sexy rolling off my tongue.” He sauntered across the room and hoisted her off the sofa, crushing her against his chest. “Keaton just rolled into the parking lot. I need to chat with him, and I have to go back to work. I want you to stay in this cabin. You can visit with Lilly. Or have Trinity or Baily over. But I don’t want you leaving. Can you do that for me? Please?”

She brushed a strand of his hair off his forehead. “I kind of love it when you beg.”

He cocked his head, tilting her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Promise me.”

Audra cocked an eyebrow. “Can I at least sit on the front porch?”

“Yes. As long as you don’t get pissed off that I’ll be having someone drive by every so often.”

“I can live with that.”

“Good.” He brushed his lips across her mouth. “Call or text if you need me.” And with that, Dawson was out the door, leaving her with her thoughts.

Which weren’t good.

Someone wanted her gone.

And not just out of town anymore. That snake wasn’t a message. It could have been a nail in her coffin.

* * *

Audra sat on the front porch of Dawson’s cabin with Trinity and Baily. She stared out at the evening sky. “Do either of you need another drink? Maybe a snack?”

“I’m good. Really. But thank you,” Trinity said.

“Me, too.” Baily raised her glass. “Is there anything we can do for you?”

The day had ticked by like a slow-motion movie. After Dawson had left, satisfied there were no more snakes in her car—or in the cabin—to finish his work for the day, Audrea had looked through the images on her camera.

She’d taken some great shots.

But she’d been hoping to see something that would shed some light on what her father had seen out there that night sixteen years ago. Or maybe something that would tell her who was trying to kill her.

But nothing jumped out at her except a few images that showed a flat-bottom boat in the background and a man driving it. It could have been the same one used by the guy who’d boarded her boat that first day. But it was off in the distance, and she couldn’t make out anything. However, she sent it off to Dawson. Maybe he could have the CSI team enhance it.

He thanked her for texting it and then sent her an inappropriate sexual message, asking for a picture of her gator tattoo that showed more than the ink—something to get him through the rest of his day.

Dawson was quite the unexpected surprise, and she found herself diving into the deep end. As much as she’d always dreamed about making Calusa Cove her home again, it was a fantasy. She’d always be a Stigini in most people's minds, and she was too old to keep playing the part.

She needed to put him out of her thoughts and, especially, out of her heart. But when she did that, everything else came crashing into her soul like a runaway freight train. It barreled into her body, and she got tangled up in all the pieces of her past and present.

She’d tried reading and watching television, but nothing had held her attention.

So, she’d taken a bath.

All that had done was unleash the waterworks.

She hated crying. It was the worst thing in the world. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to stop the tears until she’d cried them all out. Thankfully, that had been a few hours earlier, and she’d managed to pull herself together before Baily and Trinity had shown up.

She smiled at the girls, glad for the company. “Honestly, there’s not much you could do for me unless you can make the town suddenly see me as a human.” Audra sighed. “I have half a mind to do what I did sixteen years ago and leave.”

“Trust me. That’s not going to accomplish anything.” Baily glared. “Except maybe piss me off.”

“I know.” Audra nodded. “It’s just so hard. No one wants me here.”

Trinity leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “I want you to stay.”

“I do, too.” Baily nodded. “And what about Dawson? He’s basically moved you into his cabin.”

“And you're all he talks about,” Trinity added.

“Yeah, because he’s knee-deep in strangeness and a murder case,” Audra muttered, waving her finger over her head. “All because of me.”

“We don’t know that for a fact,” Baily said, but her lackluster tone wasn’t all that convincing.

“Even if I did commit to following through with the Python Challenge, I’d only be here for another week. Regardless of what’s happening between me and Dawson, I'd still be leaving.”

“You don’t have to,” Baily said. “This is your home.”

“Yeah.” Trinity downed the rest of her beverage. “Take it from a girl who’s struggled to fit in my entire life. All you need is a couple of good girlfriends to get you through. You’ve got that in us.” She stood. “I hate to do this, but I have to go. Mallary has been texting.”

“How is that poor girl?” Baily asked.

“Not well.” Trinity ran her fingers through her hair. “The entire town has turned on her family, and her stepmother blames her for everything. Her father’s business is failing, and Mallary’s desperate to get her deep dive scuba certification so she can come out with me.” She sucked in a deep breath and huffed it out. “She’s making me crazy. I go out as often as I can, but I can’t find that boat.”

“Are you talking about the one everyone believes went down a year ago with the Jewels from Flying Victoria ?” Audra asked.

“Jared—Mallary’s little brother—was the captain of that small vessel. It was a crazy night. I was out there. Two storms collided right on top of me. A few miles out, I could see a small fishing boat heading right into the storm. I couldn’t leave them out there in good faith, so I tried to find them. To help them. But they were lost at sea,” Trinity said with tears welling in her eyes. “But then, there’s Keaton. If he sees me loading Princess Afloat with scuba equipment, he’s lecturing me on safety. He’s been doing that ever since that night. Heck, his lectures started before then, but that’s when it got real bad.”

“I heard he can be worse than Dawson, and trust me, that man can be uptight.” Audra’s laugh quickly caught in her throat. “I hope your friend finds the answers she’s looking for.”

“Thanks.” Trinity nodded.

“I’ll walk with you to the parking lot,” Baily said as she rose and embraced Audra. “Do not engage with anyone.”

“I hear you.” Audra eased back into the chair and watched her friends stroll across the gravel to their vehicles. She waved one last time. Having those two in her corner made all the difference in the world.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Benson strutting along the path with the two men who’d been arrested the first day she’d arrived—the two men who had brought the dynamite. A tinge of fear prickled the back of her neck. The timing of their arrival couldn’t have been worse. It made her wonder if it had been planned. As if they had been watching and waiting for the right moment to make their move.

She shivered. She should go inside and lock the door, but she was like a deer in headlights.

“I hear you’re some kind of Owl Witch,” Eliot said. He shook his head, laughing. “Too bad because you’re damned hot.”

“Yeah, I’d tap that,” James said.

Don’t engage.

She stared into her drink, swirling it. A million retorts raced through her brain. One of them included speaking in tongues. Not that she knew any, but faking them had always worked when she’d been a kid.

“Let her be,” Benson said. “Old wives’ tales, and trust me, she’s not worth the energy.”

Benson had been mostly a squeaky-clean kid with a holier-than-thou attitude. He’d gotten good grades, and most of the adults around here had liked him. He hadn’t been a brownnoser. He hadn’t been a loud kid and had kind of flown under the radar, working for his dad.

Her heart lurched to the back of her throat.

Ken had worked for Paul at his lawyer's office and loved it at first. Well, he’d loved the money. He’d even talked about becoming an attorney, and Audra had dreamed of him staying in Calusa Cove.

The job hadn’t lasted long because Ken had gotten into a big fight with Benson. After that, he’d joined the Navy with Fletcher.

The trio paused in front of Dawson’s cabin.

She swallowed hard. She wanted to confront them, but she’d promised Dawson. While she’d never been very good at keeping her word, Dawson was, and she felt as though she owed it to him to keep her big fat mouth shut.

“I’ll catch up,” Benson said as he waved his hand, encouraging Frick and Frack to continue down the path.

The other two men turned their heads. One smiled—well, more like curved his lips into a sinister sneer. The other waved and snickered.

Assholes.

Her pulse lurched to her throat and got stuck there. She froze, holding her breath, hoping Benson would keep walking. He marched himself right up the porch steps as if they were old friends.

“I heard you had a little bit of excitement today,” Benson said with a grin plastered on his face. “Showing off your snake-taming skills again, were you?” He made a tsk-tsk noise, shaking his head. “Only feeding the rumors about your swamp monster life.”

She brought her index and middle finger toward her face, narrowed her eyes, and waved her hand between herself and Benson. “Better watch out, or I’ll cast an evil spell on you.” She lifted her cocktail and sipped. It was only her second one of the day, and she wanted to down it but decided that wasn’t a good idea.

“You’re one lucky young lady.” Benson leaned against the railing. “That snake could’ve bitten you right in the face. It would’ve sucked if he’d taken out one of your eyes or attacked you while you were driving and caused an accident.”

“What do you want?” She swirled her glass, staring at the melting ice cubes.

“I came to say hello. To check on you. It’s been a long time,” Benson said, leaning a little closer. “I’m shocked to see you slither back to these parts.”

“Interesting word choice.” She glanced up, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I’m here for the same reason you are.”

He tossed his head back and laughed. Hard. “Right. Because you have family or anyone here who cares about you.” He rested his hand on his knee. His face turned serious. “You were always a misfit in this town. You thought you belonged, but you never did fit in. Not even Ken wanted you. Hell, I remember one time he came back here with his wife. He was so proud of her and never even thought twice about you.”

“You don’t know anything about Ken.” She gripped her glass so tightly that she worried she might break it, but even she could admit that Ken had wanted— needed —her to be different. He’d begged her to comb her hair and wear shoes, even if they were only flip-flops. He’d even bought her nice clothes. It wasn’t until she’d left town that she’d realized Ken had cared more about appearances than he had about her, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Benson. “And you don’t know anything about our relationship. So, why don’t you go back to your bottom-dwelling friends?” She leaned forward. “You know, the ones who put dynamite on my vessel.” She arched an eyebrow. “I bet one of them shot down my drone, crawled onto my boat, sliced a hole in the gas line, and?—”

“You really do have quite the vivid imagination.” Benson chuckled. “Or perhaps you’re losing your mind just like your daddy.”

She recoiled, sloshing a bit of her drink over the rim of her glass.

“And Dawson’s a small-minded cop whose days are numbered.” Benson inched so close she smelled the beer on his breath. “Go back to whatever rock you crawled out from under. If you don’t, someone will find the evidence they need that proves you killed your father and Tim. A cop other than Dawson will be tossing your pretty little ass in the slammer. Mark my words.”

She drew in a deep breath and leveled a hard stare at Benson. “Is that a threat?”

Benson shook his head. “Just stating facts.” He stood and descended the porch step. Then he turned on his heel, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and strolled down the path like he didn’t have a care in the world.

She stood, marched herself inside, and slammed the door.

Tears filled her eyes.

Deep in her heart, Calusa Cove—The Everglades—felt like home. When she wandered through town in the dark of night, it brought her a sense of calm. A sense of happiness. Even when she had to suffer the whispers and stares from the townspeople who thought the worst of her, this place still brought her joy.

Her heart was connected to it as if it pumped the blood through her veins. However, the secrets surrounding her father’s death had clogged it, making it impossible for her to stay.

The front door rattled, making her jump. Her damn nerves were fried.

“Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do,” Dawson said in some stupid accent as he stepped through the door. He closed it, unclipped his gun, removed the magazine of bullets, and placed it in the lockbox like he had the night before.

“You’re not funny.” She let out a big puff of air. She’d spent her entire life acting as though she wasn’t afraid of anything—or anyone.

But the truth was—she was terrified of her own shadow. A murderer was loose and might make her his next target.

“And it’s not like I meant to open my mouth with Benson,” she said, “but he pushed my buttons.”

“Not sure what you’re talking about, but I’ll take your word for it because he’s a jerk.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers as if they were a couple. “Sorry, I’m late.” He held up a bag. “I brought home a couple of salads. My heartburn couldn’t handle more fried foods. I didn’t want to cook, and I figured neither did you.”

They’d known each other going on four days. She shouldn’t be staying in his home, but where else would she stay? With Trinity? Baily? No. That meant he’d put someone like Remy or, worse, one of his buddies on them as a bodyguard. She wouldn’t do that to her friends.

He set the food on the counter and pulled her close.

When she tried to squirm away, he held her tighter. “Sweetheart, don’t let him get to you. He’s not worth it.” He palmed her cheek. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “Just remember I’m a safe space to land.”

She’d never met anyone like Dawson before. At least not someone who treated her as if she were a normal human with real feelings. “I’m tired.” She swiped at her face, unable to hide the emotion. “I didn’t kill my dad. I didn’t come back here to cause trouble, and that rattlesnake wasn’t a message or a warning. Someone wants me dead. I might as well do what I do best and disappear.”

Dawson took a step back and raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t let you do that. Before you start arguing with me, it’s not because I think you’re guilty of anything or that I’m worried about what this town will believe if you do.”

“Then why?”

He pulled out his cell phone. “Hayes may have found something today.” He held up an image. “Can’t tell much from this snapshot, but he believes there’s something on Coonts Island. Something that wasn’t there a few months ago, and we’ve all been back there.”

“Way up Loon River? That’s a hike from here and hard to navigate during low tide, even hard for some airboats.” She took his phone and zoomed in on what appeared to be a roof hidden in the trees. “Not to mention some locals won’t go back there because that’s where the ghost of Edgar Watson settled.”

“Our airboats can navigate Loon River during low tide, no problem.” Dawson nodded. “But I figure if we leave at high tide, which is at five in the morning, we could be back over by Hog Island by seven. We’ll just say we got an early start.” Dawson didn’t acknowledge Captain Watson or the many stories that surrounded him.

Missing boats. Planes that had disappeared.

The Ghost Ship of the Everglades had been haunting South Florida for as long as anyone could remember, and if a human dared to go back to Captain Watson’s home—especially at night—beware. Of course, it was just a story, and how could a pirate ship not only make it back this far but be kept hidden for hundreds of years?

However, locals respected the area because too many strange things happened there.

Of course, half the town believed she was a swamp monster—an Owl Witch. So, there was that.

“You seriously want to go there before sunrise?” she asked. “Hasn’t anyone told you about Edgar Watson?”

“I know all about him and every single story behind his pirate ship.” Dawson arched a brow. “I also know your dad told those ghost tales every chance he got. Please tell me you don’t believe them.”

“It’s not that I think they’re real, but I feel the same way about that section of the Everglades as I do about the Bermuda Triangle. Not sure it’s real, but I don’t particularly want to fly over it or float into it.”

“I’m a retired Navy SEAL. I’ve been through the Bermuda Triangle more than once. I’ve spent much of my career at sea. I know all about legends and pirates. I’m not afraid, and I need to investigate this. You’re welcome to come with me. Your choice.”

She glanced between him and the cell phone. Her hands trembled. A tear dribbled down her cheek. “You’d do that for me?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m on your side? That I believe everything you’re telling me?” He tossed the cell phone on the counter. Cupping her face, he kissed her softly. “Everyone in this town is acting crazy. I’m suspicious of most people right now. But not you. You’re the one person who hasn’t given me any real reason to doubt you.”

She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms and legs around his strong body, crash-landing her lips on his mouth. If honesty, loyalty, and kindness had a taste, then that’s what Dawson tasted like.

His steadying hands wrapped around her waist, their bodies blending into each other. She could feel his heartbeat in sync with hers, rapid yet soothing. Dawson carried her back to the bed. His hands massaged her muscles, kneading into her flesh as if she were clay and he was molding her into a fine piece of sculpture.

There was a quiet understanding as they shared another soft kiss, the worries of the world momentarily stilled by their shared emotions. He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. "You’re not alone," he whispered. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She’d been alone for so long that she’d forgotten what it was like to rely on another human.

Her memories of her mother had only been of when she’d been sick. But her mother had loved her. She’d championed her daughter. Audra cherished those moments. Her father had been fractured, and her mother’s death had only made him worse. Ken had brought Audra some normalcy, but in the end, he’d betrayed her trust.

Dawson was different. He didn’t pretend to be her knight in shining armor. He knew he was just a man, but he was a man who hadn’t judged her. He believed her.

That was something.

She fumbled desperately with the buttons on his shirt as if it were the first time she’d ever undressed a man.

But Dawson gently captured her trembling hands and smiled softly, stealing her breath with a glance. “Slow down," he whispered, his voice rich with affection. "We've got time."

She looked at him as a myriad of emotions stared back at her in his amber eyes. Her fingers relaxed under his touch as he deftly unbuttoned his shirt, his every move unhurried and deliberate. Every second was an eternity as she watched the cotton slide off his broad shoulders to reveal his torso.

He was magnificent; tanned skin stretched taut over rippling muscles, adorned with only a light dusting of dark hair. He was like a painting—a masterpiece carved by a master craftsman, and she was the artist given the honor to etch every inch of him into her memory canvas.

He took her hands, kissing each knuckle tenderly while maintaining eye contact. Leading her hands to his chest, he let her trace the outline of his muscles—and scars—each contact sending electric sparks through her body.

Her breath hitched as she pulled herself closer, the heat radiating off him making her feel intoxicated. She buried her face into his neck, inhaling deeply—the scent of sea spray mixed with an undertone of fresh pine stirred something primal within her.

His strong arms cradled her slender body against his chest. Their bodies intertwined like puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly.

A sense of serenity washed over her as she surrendered to their shared passion. They drew strength from each other amid a whirlwind of chaos looming outside their safe haven.

"Dawson," she whispered, her voice barely audible against his skin. "This feels—unreal."

He tucked her head under his chin, his hand splaying against her back as he held her in a protective embrace. "It's us… it's real," he stated, his affirmation carrying a weight that grounded her to the reality of their situation.

She clung to him, absorbing the rhythmic thud of his heart, allowing it to serve as a lighthouse in the storm of emotions she was experiencing. The shared solitude and intimacy brought an unspoken promise—an assurance that no matter how much the world outside their bubble raged, here, within these walls with him, she was safe.

His long fingers traced patterns along her spine, soothing her nerves, each stroke like a light balm over open wounds. Although the night was cold outside their sanctuary, the heat radiating from his body provided warmth that a thousand fires couldn't.

She looked at him beneath her lashes, tracing his features with her gaze. His sharp jawline softened as he stared back at her with an intensity that made her feel seen—truly seen—for perhaps the first time in ages.

He cradled her face with one hand, delicately tracing the slope of her nose as if he were a sculptor molding wet clay. Their lips met in a sweet exchange—a slow dance without urgency. It was purely them: raw and unhurried.

There was no need for spoken words between them; their bodies spoke volumes—an intimate language only they understood.

Slowly, they succumbed to the rhythm set by their beating hearts—the crescendo of emotions pouring out from each other’s souls through silent whispers and punctuating sighs. As moonlight cast an ethereal glow around them, their shared solitude felt like home—a place of refuge where they could bare their vulnerabilities without fear.

And there, against Dawson's chest, under the moonlight, she realized something profound. She was no longer alone; her heart had found a companion in Dawson. And with that realization came a peaceful sigh as she surrendered herself to him. No matter what chaos lay ahead, she knew they'd face it together.