Page 68 of Mountain Defender

Of course, baby. I can’t wait to see you, too.

CHAPTER 13

RORY

It’s stillhard to believe it’s all over.

Even three days later, with both Karl Mavers and Elliott Ford in jail and the danger eliminated, I still have moments when it doesn’t feel real. When I wake up from a nightmare in a cold sweat, heart pounding out of my chest, my half-awake self certain that Mavers is coming after me. That Gage never caught him, and my would-be killer is still out there, plotting his third attempt on my life.

When I told Isla everything that happened—Mavers contracted to kill me through a dark web site, hired by the man who owned the boat company that caused my parents’ deaths—it felt like I was talking about someone else. This crazy story couldn’t be aboutmylife. Not when I’ve spent decades trying to fade into the background. How could someone actually wantmedead?

But in the aftermath of Gage and Alec’s nighttime trip to Portsmouth, amid the hours of testimony from Karl Mavers, and later, the reluctant confession of Elliott Ford, I found out why.

Money.

When Elliott Ford took over Atlantic Adventures after his father passed away five years ago, he didn’t think much of the structured settlement I’ve been receiving since I was seventeen. The company was in the black back then, and the yearly payment didn’t make much of an impact on its finances.

But four years later, after a string of bad decisions, the company wasn’t doing nearly as well. On the verge of collapse, Ford admitted to the police, and sure to go under within a year or two if he couldn’t figure out a solution.

Other people might have turned to investors. Creative marketing. Paring down. Or selling off the company and using the profits to pay off the massive debts. Not Elliott Ford. He saw the four-hundred K I get each year and decidedthatwas the best solution. Kill me off and the settlement ends, since it doesn’t extend to the rest of my family.

In his mind, apparently, it was a worthy trade-off. Fifty thousand to take me out of the equation, saving him hundreds of thousands as a result.

I guess it reallyisblood money in more ways than I thought.

Every time I think about it, I feel sick to my stomach.

Maybe that’s part of what makes this all feel so surreal. What happened… it’s more like a story I’d read about online, or a plot from an episode ofLaw and Order. It’s not supposed to be my life.

I’m relieved that it’s over. Of course I am. I’m endlessly thankful to the GMG team for all their help, and especially for Gage’s unwavering support and protection. I’m eager to get back to my normal life, taking care of the dogs, venturing into town whenever I want, and maybe even trying to be a little more social than I used to be.

But I’m also conflicted.

I’m not sure my normal life will be the normal I’m used to. I’m not sure I want it to be.

Which is why I’ve been laying in bed staring at the ceiling for the last half hour; my mind spinning, instead of sleeping like Gage still is. I should be cuddled into his side, my head on his chest and his arm wrapped around me, my leg draped across his. I should be warm and cozy and content instead of tense with anxiety and indecision.

I should be happy. I’m safe. The dogs are all safe, with several of them already lined up with adoptive families. My case is on track to be closed—according to the police, the evidence they have on Mavers and Ford is more than enough for a conviction.

And I have Gage. The incredible man sleeping next to me. He’s been staying here every night since the first time he slept over; the night of joyous highs and a terrifying low. He didn’t want to leave me the following night, and then we just sort of… fell into it. Dinner, watching TV, sex—making love, it feels more like, to me—and finally falling asleep tangled up together.

Is our relationship moving quickly? Maybe? In one way, yes. We haven’t been dating for that long. But does it matter when it feels so perfect? When he feels like the man I’ve been waiting for all my life?

I think that’s one of the reasons?—

“Ror, are you okay?”

Gage turns on his side to look at me, his gaze alert even though he just woke up. It must be one of those things he learned in the Army, being able to wake on a dime, unlike me, who takes a good half hour to feel remotely human.

“I’m fine,” I reply automatically. “Why?”

He pulls me into his arms, so we’re facing each other. Then he traces his finger across my forehead. “Because you have a little worry line right there. And you weren’t snuggled up to me like you usually are. And—” His lips brush across mine. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re worried about something.”

Wow. He’s good. Still. I don’t really want to start our morning off by unloading my worries on him. Especially not when he’s already had to deal with enough of my crap.

“I’m okay. Really. I just woke up early.”

“Ror.” A slight frown pulls at his features. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right? If something is bothering you, I want to know.” He pauses. “I mean, you don’t have to. I’m not trying to push you. But if you’re worried…”

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