“Molly.”
One word. Soft, male. Unmistakable.
I go still, air freezing in my lungs. A single bead of sweat slides down my spine, cold as ice. My stomach plummets.
No. No, it can’t be. Not here. Not now.
But I know that voice. I know it the way you know fire—by the scorch it left behind. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed, or how hard I’ve tried to forget, I’d recognize that voice in any lifetime.
I freeze, Roxy presses hard against my leg, her body tense. Slowly, I turn toward the source of the voice. A figure steps around the car—the only other car that I noticed was parked in the lot and my heart pounds in my chest.
It’s not in your head anymore. He’s here.
Chapter 36 – Molly
I try to remain neutral, to mask how much him showing up in my small town unsettles me. But how do you ever prepare to face the ex-husband who hit you the last time you saw him—the man who threatened to destroy you whether you stayed with him or left??
“Jordan,” I say, keeping my voice steady.
Years of police training help me fake confidence, but inside, every nerve is on edge. My keys are in my hand, my gun locked in the glove compartment of my car. I know how to take down a threat without either, but Jordan’s not just any threat. He’s five years older, with five more years of experience on the police force and a man who’s helped train me.
A man who at one time knew my body better than I did.
I don’t let my fear over that show.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, my voice firm, and I’m proud of the way it doesn’t waver.
“I came for you,” he says, his tone softer than I expected it would be. “Can we go somewhere and talk… please? Maybe back inside your house? I just have a few things to say.”
“How did you find me?” I press, ignoring his request. I’m not going anywhere with him ever again.
“I asked around.”
Of course, he did and of course people would tell him what he was looking to know. He’s still a handsome man, and he’s always known how to use his looks to get what he wants out of people. Damn small towns. In Whitewood Creek, secrets don’t exist. While people might be wary of strangers, they’re still too friendly. Someone must’ve been more than happy to tell him where I moved to.
“Well, you’re not welcome here,” I say, keeping my tone casual.
I step toward my car, testing the limits of what he’s going to allow me to do. I open the passenger door to toss my bag inside—and to get closer to my gun, but Jordan knows me too well. Of course, he does. He’s the one who helped me pick that gun out eight years ago. He’s the one who showed me how to properly handle it, and how to get to it quickly if I ever needed to.
“Molly, stop. I know what you’re doing.” His hand clamps down on my arm, keeping me from reaching it. I pull away, but his grip only tightens.
I know better than to provoke him, but for the first time in years, I’m not sure what to do next. My training evaporates, leaving me blank. Any other perp, and I’d have a plan, a strategy. But this is Jordan—a man I loved with every piece of myself for nearly a decade. The man I trusted to protect me, who stood beside me as I said my vows in the warm swamp lands of Louisiana, a guy whose devastatingly handsome face had me missing all the signs of an ugly inside, and who shattered that trust I’d put in him sothoroughly that I’ve spent years trying to rebuild myself from the wreckage.
Now he’s here, and I’m frozen.
Suddenly, Roxy lets out a loud howl and I think I’ve been saved. She lunges towards Jordan who reacts instantly, his training kicks in and he blocks her bite by deftly dodging it and using my body as a shield instead. She catches just the edge of my bare leg, enough for her teeth to sink into my calf and draw blood. I let out a scream from the pain.
Roxy notices, realizes what she did, and before I can say anything, howls in anguish and takes off down the street.
“No! Roxy no!” I shout, shaking off Jordan’s grip and moving quickly after her but she’s gone, off into the dark like a little phantom. “Jordan! What the hell did you do?!” I yell, turning on my heel, no longer caring about any fear for my safety or what he might do to try to stop me from leaving.
My blood’s pumping through my ears as my focus tunnels into worry over Roxy. If something happens to her, Colt will never forgive me. Hell, I’ll never forgive myself. I love her just as much as he does because she holds a piece of my childhood. A piece of Maverick that I’ll never get back. She didn’t mean to hurt me, and I hate knowing she’s out there alone now.
“Molly, wait!” he yells after me.
“No!” I scream, bolting to the driver’s side door. My hands shake as I yank it open, jam the key into the ignition, and throw the car into reverse. Tires screech against the pavement, and I nearly run him down in my fury.
I’m beyond pissed—no, furious. He used me as a human shield, and now he’s run off the love of my life’s dog because she thinks she did something wrong. I slam the car into drive and speedthrough the city streets, my eyes darting everywhere, searching desperately for any sign of her in the dark.
