18

NATHAN

The message came through just as I was pulling out of the Red Wings parking lot, and the second I saw Betty’s name flash on my screen, every muscle in my body tensed. A sharp stab of instinct told me something was wrong. I swiped to open it, and my eyes narrowed.

“Carrie’s here. Something feels off. Dog’s growling. Please come.”

I didn’t even finish reading before I slammed the car into gear, tires squealing as I tore out onto the main road, adrenaline shooting straight through my veins. Damn it, Carrie. I had told her—warned her—not to move around without me, and now here she was, in the exact kind of trouble I’d been trying to protect her from.

I gripped the steering wheel hard, my knuckles white, my foot pressing the gas pedal down mercilessly. The streets blurred past, my mind racing faster than the car. Orca Bay was usually quiet—too quiet—but tonight, the silence felt menacing. And I had a sick feeling that the nightmare we’d both been dreading was finally catching up with us.

Betty’s street came into view, and I cut the engine halfway up the block, killing the headlights as I coasted to a stop. Years of training kicked in instantly—no noise, no light, no warning. I scanned the houses quickly, my eyes zeroing in on Betty’s place. The porch light was off, but I could just make out movement inside—too quick, too sharp.

“Stay calm,” I muttered under my breath as I slid my Glock out of the holster and chambered a round. Every nerve in my body was on edge, my senses hyper-alert. I moved quietly, sticking to the shadows, circling around the back of the house where a sliver of light peeked through a cracked window.

That’s when I heard it—a muffled shout, a scuffle, the unmistakable sound of furniture crashing. My heart thundered in my chest, but my head stayed clear, focused. I crouched low, edged to the door, and tested the knob. Locked.

No problem.

I braced myself, counting silently—three, two, one—and then kicked it in hard, the wood splintering under the force. I was inside in seconds, gun raised, eyes sweeping the room fast.

“Carrie!” I shouted, my voice a bark of command.

There was no answer—only a terrified whimper and the sound of feet scrambling. I moved fast, rounding the corner into the living room, where the scene hit me like a punch to the gut.

Carrie was pressed back against the wall, her eyes wide with terror, Betty’s dog snarling at a figure in a dark hoodie who had his hand clamped around Betty’s wrist, dragging her toward the door.

“Let her go!” I barked, stepping forward, my gun aimed square at his chest.

The man froze, eyes darting between me and the dog. Carrie gasped, her gaze flicking from me to the weapon in my hand.

“Drop her. Now,” I growled, my finger tightening on the trigger.

For a heartbeat, the bastard hesitated—and then, with a savage shove, he hurled Betty toward the couch and bolted for the back door.

“Stay down!” I shouted to the girls as I took off after him, my boots pounding across the hardwood, my blood roaring in my ears. He was fast, but I was faster—rage and fear propelling me forward like a bullet.

We crashed out into the night, and I tackled him hard onto the lawn, the two of us hitting the ground with a bone-jarring thud. He struggled, twisting like a snake, but I had the upper hand. Years of training, endless nights on the job—it all kicked in now as I pinned him down, yanking the hood back.

And what I saw made my blood run cold.

Daniel.

The bastard was grinning, his eyes wild with something between hatred and triumph.

“Miss me, babysitter?” he sneered, his voice low and venomous.

I slammed his face into the dirt, fury pulsing through every vein. “You’ve made your last mistake.”

But even as I cuffed him, securing his wrists behind his back, a creeping feeling of dread spread through me. This was too easy—too clean. And when Daniel chuckled darkly, twisting to look up at me with blood on his lips, I knew it wasn’t over.

“Think this is it?” he spat. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

I hauled him to his feet roughly, my heart pounding so loud I could barely think straight. “We’ll see about that.”

I dragged him back inside, where Betty was cradling her arm and Carrie stood frozen, her face pale as death. The second she saw Daniel’s face, she gasped and stumbled back, clutching her chest.

“Carrie, it’s over,” I said, my voice softer now but still laced with tension. “He won’t hurt you again.”

But Daniel just laughed, and the sound sent a chill straight down my spine.

“It’s not over,” he rasped. “Not even close.”

And in that moment, staring into his twisted, smiling face, I knew: this was only the beginning.

Carrie’s eyes were locked on Daniel, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. I saw her shoulders tremble, her hands gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. Betty moved to her side, whispering something I couldn’t hear, but Carrie didn’t move, didn’t speak. Her entire body seemed frozen in place, her gaze burning into Daniel with a mixture of hatred and terror.

“Carrie,” I said gently, stepping forward, keeping one hand on Daniel’s cuffs while I reached out my other to her. “It’s okay now. He can’t hurt you.”

But she didn’t answer me. Her eyes were glassy, her lips parted, and I realized—too late—that she was going into shock.

“Betty, get her some water,” I ordered, my tone sharper than I intended. Betty rushed off toward the kitchen while I guided Daniel roughly to the chair by the window and shoved him down, keeping my gun trained on him the whole time.

He was smirking still, that smug, twisted grin that made my blood boil.

“Brave girl,” he sneered, jerking his chin toward Carrie. “Did she tell you the whole story, Nathan? Did she tell you what really happened between us?”

“Shut your mouth,” I snapped, fighting to keep my rage under control. I wanted to hit him—God, I wanted to wipe that grin clean off his face—but I held myself back. Barely.

Betty returned with the water and pressed it into Carrie’s shaking hands, murmuring soothing words. Slowly, Carrie seemed to come back to herself, her gaze flicking toward me, her lips trembling.

“Nathan,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “What… what do we do now?”

I crouched down in front of her, keeping my eyes locked on hers, grounding her. “We’re going to handle this. He’s going straight to the station, and I’m not leaving your side again. Not for a second. You’re safe now, Carrie.”

But even as I said it, my gut twisted. Daniel’s last words echoed in my head, chilling and certain: It’s not over.

And I couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything we’d just been through, the real storm was only just beginning.