Page 132 of Fragile Sanctuary

“Neither did I,” I whispered, unshed tears burning the backs of my eyes. “Why start it all up again?”

Anson went rigid. “Because of me. You haven’t ever been serious about anyone, but I’m sure word’s gotten around that we’re together. If he’s been watching or talking to people on the crew, he knows I’ve been staying here.”

Bile surged again. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s not. But I’m still fucking sorry,” he gritted out.

I twisted, pressing my face into Anson’s neck. “Don’t let him get inside your head.”

Anson stroked the side of my face. “You’re right.” Letting out a long breath, he turned to Trace. “Get this fucker.”

Trace jerked his head in a nod. “I’ll lock him down. You take care of my sister.”

Asking Anson to step in was like a nod of approval from Trace. And Anson didn’t miss it.

“I’d do anything for her.”

Trace pushed to standing. “Good. Call if you need anything. I’m going to put a rush on the evidence we found.”

And then he was gone.

But my world was left spinning.

Anson didn’t wait. He lifted me into his arms and carried me inside. Biscuit rushed to meet us, letting free a little whine, but I was too dazed to even let it register.

Did this mean someone had killed my family? It wasn’t an accident. It was pure hatred. And for what? Some sort of twisted obsession?

The tears came then—one sob and then another, ragged and brutal as they tore from my body.

“I got you,” Anson whispered.

He lowered me to my bed as more sobs racked my body. He curved around me, cocooning me in his warmth. “Let it out. I’m right here.”

So, I did. I released all the pain, anger, and grief, knowing Anson would be there to catch me.

The sun streameddown from high in the sky as I stood on my back deck, the rays catching the shimmery threads on my cowboy boots. I’d needed the bright spot, even if it was just in my footwear. Everything felt so eerily quiet compared to the chaos of last night. No lights. No sirens. No deputies traipsing all over my yard.

I frowned at a flower bed that had gotten the worst of the officers’ carelessness. I’d have to run out to Bloom to get some replacement plants. I wouldn’t be working. Duncan had told me, in no uncertain terms, that if I showed up at the shop, he’d fire me.

Instead, I was standing outside, twiddling my thumbs andabout ready to crawl out of my skin. I glanced down at my phone. Eleven-thirty.

I still needed to kill fifteen minutes before Fallon showed. She’d wanted to eat here, but I needed to get out of the house. Away from the ghost town.

I missed the noise of the crew, but they’d been told to halt work until further notice just in case the main house needed to be reexamined. So, they’d switched to a different jobsite. Anson had gone in hours late and practically kicking and screaming. And only after a deputy was stationed in his vehicle outside my house. He wasn’t taking any chances with The Hangman still at large.

At least, this was some time away from Anson’s watchful gaze. Time to try to process the fact that Felix had been the one to tear my life apart all those years ago. Who’d been determined to do it again.

My stomach dipped and rolled. The boy I’d kissed. The one I’d thought would change my life.

In the most twisted way, he had.

My eyes burned, pressure building behind them. I shoved the tears back. I couldn’t cry. Not again. I’d sobbed until I passed out last night, and I didn’t welcome the idea of going down that road again.

I took a slow, steadying breath as I walked farther into my garden. I let the scents of lilac and lupine fill my nose, calming me. I focused on the wind in the trees.

My phone buzzed, and I tugged it from my back pocket.

Fallon

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