"Thanks." I lean into him briefly before moving to pour myself a mug. "What brings you up the mountain so early, Finn?"
The brothers exchange a look I can't quite interpret.
"Security detail," Finn answers, taking a sip of his coffee. "Sawyer's orders."
"Meaning he's babysitting us until the hearing on Monday," Elias clarifies, his tone making it clear he's not entirely pleased with the arrangement.
"Not babysitting," Finn corrects. "Strategic reinforcement. And don't worry, I'm sleeping in the guest cabin. I know when three's a crowd."
Heat rises to my cheeks again at the implication, but Elias merely grunts in acknowledgment.
"How bad is it?" I ask, cutting through the tension. "In town, I mean. After yesterday."
Another look passes between the brothers before Finn answers. "The town's divided. Brad's allies versus everyone else. Maggie's diner is doing record business from people showing support. The hardware store, which Ronald Cooper owns, is practically empty."
"And Brad?" I can't help asking, though part of me doesn't want to know.
"Drinking," Finn says bluntly. "Making threats. Nothing he's stupid enough to act on yet."
"Yet being the operative word," Elias adds, his hand returning to my back. The possessive touch grounds me. "That's why you're staying here until Monday. Both of us are."
A second thrill runs through me at the memory of three days alone with Elias to explore this new thing between us and learn every inch of him as thoroughly as he's learned me.
"I should check the perimeter," Finn says, rising from his stool. "Make sure our security measures are still intact after that rain last night."
Elias nods. "Take the north trail first. Motion sensor went off around dawn, but it was probably just deer."
"On it." Finn collects a rifle from near the door, shrugs into a rain jacket, and heads out into the downpour.
The moment the door closes behind him, I turn to face Elias fully, setting my coffee aside. "Now that we have a moment alone, talk to me. How worried should I be about this hearing?"
Elias's expression shifts, the mask of calm control he wears for others falling away to reveal the concern beneath. "Honestly? With Harmon presiding, I'd be very worried if the hearing was in Grizzly Ridge. The Coopers have a lot of financial influence in the town. But lucky for us, it’s in Helena, at the county court. I think we have a good chance."
I nod, appreciating his honesty. "Tell me about Rebecca Winters. How do you know her?"
"She's Caleb's friend," he explains, pulling me to sit beside him at the kitchen table. "She grew up in town, but left for college, then stayed away for law school. She’s really a criminal defense attorney, but she knows her way around domestic violence cases, too. If I had to put your faith in anyone’s hands, it’d be hers."
"What do I need to do to prepare?"
His eyes soften at my practical question, pride evident in his expression. "Gather everything. The photos of your bruises. Screenshots of any threatening messages. Names of witnesses who saw Brad grab you or heard him threaten you."
"I have most of it on my laptop," I tell him. "The rest is in storage with my other things."
"Make a list. Sawyer can get whatever we need from your storage unit." He takes my hand, thumb stroking my knuckles. "Rebecca will want to meet tomorrow to go over your testimony."
I steel myself, pushing down the anxiety that threatens to surface. "I can do this. I've faced him before."
"You won't face him alone," Elias says, conviction in every syllable. "Not ever again."
The promise settles around me like a warm blanket, offering protection without suffocation. This is what I've always wanted without knowing it—someone who stands beside me rather than in front of me, who sees me as an equal partner in my own protection.
A loud beeping suddenly cuts through the cabin, making me jump. Elias is on his feet instantly, moving to the security panel by the door.
"It’s the motion sensor on the east boundary," he says, scanning the readout. "Probably Finn, but..."
He doesn't finish the sentence, instead moving to the rifle rack and retrieving a shotgun. The smooth, practiced way he checks the weapon speaks of years of training.
"Stay here," he tells me, voice brooking no argument. "Lock the door behind me."
