Page 8 of Vanishing Point (Bent County Protectors #1)

He was late, and Thomas hated running late for work. Or he had, before Vi. Spending the night out on the Young Ranch tended to override that worry over it. Still, this morning he rushed into the station, offered half-hearted greetings before making it to his office.

God, he needed some coffee. Maybe five minutes to get his thoughts in order. Did he have strained carrots on his pants from feeding Mags this morning?

Laurel was sitting at the desk they had to share. She had been back from maternity leave for a while now, and as Thomas had predicted, the sheriff had expanded the detective department rather than send Copeland back to the road. They had the caseload for it these days.

Laurel looked up at him, then the clock on the wall. “I want to meet her.”

She’d hinted, suggested, tried to trick him, but he still hadn’t introduced her to Vi. Laurel was five years older than them, so while Vi might have known of Laurel Delaney since the Delaneys were a big deal in Bent, Laurel didn’t remember Vi.

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

Thomas grinned at her, hanging his bag up on the hook behind the door. “Because it’s driving you crazy.” And because he tried to keep all the cop parts of his life away from Vi. Even if it was hard. Even if it hurt.

But love was a hell of a thing. He’d keep a million things out of her way if it meant waking up with her every morning. Putting Mags to bed at night together. He’d sacrifice a million things for those quiet, perfect moments.

“I’ve never seen you this happy,” Laurel said, a bit like an accusation.

Thomas didn’t know what to say to that, since it was true. So he just grunted.

When Copeland walked into the detective office, blissfully later than Thomas himself, Laurel jabbed a finger at him. “Has he met her?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s something.” Laurel and Copeland had learned how to deal with each other, but Thomas wouldn’t call it an easy relationship.

Neither one of them quite trusted the other yet, but Thomas figured it would come with time.

They were both too good professionally to let oil and water personalities get in the way for long.

“Look, she’s a homebody and she’s got a one-year-old.” Thomas shrugged. “We just don’t get out much.”

Laurel pointed a finger at him. “Play date.”

“No.”

“My kids are desperate to meet new kids.”

“Your kids have three million cousins their age to play with. Besides, Mags is just starting to walk. She doesn’t need your brood running her over.”

“Mags?”

“It’s short for Magnolia,” he muttered. “Now can I have my desk? I’ve got that report to finalize.”

“ Our desk, buddy.” But she got up.

It was indeed their desk, because littered across it were pictures of the Delaney-Carsons. For a moment, Thomas was distracted not by the old, vague sense of envy, but a new one of how that could be his future.

Future being the operative word. Because it had only been a few months. Even if fifteen years before, it had been four years. But they’d been different then. Everything had been different.

When he caught Laurel staring at him, probably because he’d been staring at her pictures, he ignored it and got to work.

Later when they ate their lunches in the office, discussing Copeland’s current robbery case, Vicky stuck her head in the door.

“This was delivered to the front desk for you, Hart,” Vicky said. She tossed a slim envelope onto his desk.

He set his sub sandwich aside and lifted the envelope. The return address was a police department in Texas. “We had any dealing with someone in Plano?” he asked offhandedly, breaking the seal.

“Not that I recall,” Laurel replied.

Inside the envelope was a stack of pictures. He frowned at the first one. It was kind of grainy, the lighting not very good, but he recognized that wavy red hair.

Everything inside him went utterly still at the trickle of blood running down her nose.

With a slight tremor in his hands, he flipped to the next picture. A close-up this time, still grainy. A black eye, dark and big.

Every single one featured Vi. With a bruise or injury somewhere on her body. And with each picture, his blood ran more and more cold. He reached the end of the stack, expecting some kind of note, some kind of something .

But there was nothing but the pictures. Thomas was on his feet, the chair clattering behind him, without a thought to Copeland or Laurel asking him what was wrong. Nothing mattered but getting to Vi.

But there she was. In the doorway. No bruises. No visible injuries. But she was pale.

And clutching an envelope to her chest that looked just like the one on his desk.

T HREE SETS OF eyes were on her, but Vi only noticed Thomas’s. Worry and anger. She saw the envelope on his desk that looked just like the one that had been in the mail this afternoon.

Eric had sent Thomas pictures too.

Oh, God . For a second, she thought her knees might buckle. She shouldn’t have come to his work. She shouldn’t have come. She shouldn’t have.

He skirted the desk so quickly, she didn’t even have time to flinch when he grabbed her. But it wasn’t a grab , or at least not the kind her body was preparing for. He hugged her. Tight and close.

She felt her knees sag. Fear had propelled her from the ranch all the way to the Bent County Police Station, but Thomas’s strong arms around her was like a wake-up call.

“Thomas, I have to…” Run. Just run .

“Let me see the envelope,” he said, carefully loosening his grip but only just, so enough space remained between them to take it out of her hands.

When he held it out, the woman who’d been in the office with him—no doubt Laurel the detective he occasionally talked about—had a bag open and he dropped the envelope in.

“Copeland?” he said.

The man was another detective Vi knew just from putting little clues together, because Thomas didn’t talk about his job much. Purposefully. He had taken her I’m not sure I’m ever going to be okay with you being a cop to heart and did everything he could to keep that life separate from theirs.

For a moment, that felt like another pain, just to go along with all the others. Another failure in the never-ending cascade of them.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Those knee-jerk meltdowns would probably never go away, but she wouldn’t let them sabotage the life she was building.

Copeland took the bag with her envelope in it, while holding another bag with an identical envelope in it.

“I’ll get them processed and printed.” He nodded at her, intense and direct. The female detective—short, blond, pretty, no doubt Laurel—was watching Thomas.

Thomas kept his arm around Vi, but moved so they were more hip to hip. “Copeland will see if we can get a print, more information on where they came from,” he said. He pointed to the woman. “This is my other partner, Laurel Delaney-Carson.”

Vi nodded, beyond uncomfortable his coworkers were witnessing this…awful, awful thing. She didn’t want them seeing the pictures. She didn’t want Laurel, this person she knew Thomas looked up to, seeing…all her failures.

Not failures, Vi. Don’t let him win this.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Laurel said with a kind smile. “You let me know if I can be of any help.” Then she left.

Thomas rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “Did you drive out here? Where’s Mags?”

“Franny’s got her. I didn’t want to… I was going to call you, but I didn’t want you coming to the ranch, bringing all this ugliness out there more than it already is.

I couldn’t…” She wouldn’t cry. She just wouldn’t allow herself to do that here.

Maybe once she was back in her car alone. Definitely tonight in bed. Alone.

Because how could she keep doing this thing with Thomas with this hanging over her head?

Eric had sent him those pictures too. A new bolt of fear struck her at her core. Eric had never involved anyone else once she’d left her father’s house. All his threats were to her and her alone.

But if he knew she was dating Thomas… If he was threatening him by sending these pictures…

She turned to face Thomas again, grabbed on to him. He was real, he was strong. But… “If he sent them to you, this is more. It’s… He can’t come here. He can’t know about Magnolia. He can’t—”

Thomas took her hands in his. Squeezed. “So he won’t.”

His gaze was so direct. So sure.

She wished she could believe his certainty. But she’d once been certain. She’d once believed all it would take was going to the police to save her from Eric.

She’d been so wrong. “Thomas. I have to leave. I have to run. If he comes here…”

“You will be protected.”

“I don’t think you understand,” she said, trying to maintain her calm, her composure. She had to be composed or he’d look at her and see everything those other cops had seen.

Hysteria. Overreaction.

“It’s not like I just ran. That was a last resort. I tried to tell people. I tried to get help. But his entire precinct believed him, supported him. He was this close to having me involuntarily committed. If I hadn’t run away, he would have made it happen.”

Or maybe he would have killed me. She knew how possible it was. How likely he would have been to get away with it.

“This is Bent County. He doesn’t control us.”

“But you could control them if you wanted to.” She hated the words the second they were out her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t deserve that.”

“No, I suppose I don’t.” Then his arms were around her, pulling her close. Gently this time. “But you didn’t deserve what happened to you. Life isn’t fair. We know that.”