Sawyer laughs. “No, Cap. You don’t. I’ll keep her safe, I promise.”
“I know you will.” He turns to me. “Love you.”
My throat constricts, chest aching as I stand here. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 19
Sawyer
As I double-check the anchor to make sure we won’t drift out of the small cove we’re stopping in for the night, my thoughts are on Anastasia. She’s downstairs in the cabin, where she’s been ever since we pulled away from the dock four hours ago.
Zane had stood there watching, hands in his pockets. I can only imagine how hard it was to watch us pull away. But we all agree—it’s the only way to truly make sure she’s safe. We’ll make our way up the coast for now, headed in the direction of Hope Springs, Maine. If they haven’t managed to catch the guy yet, then we’ll remain docked at a marina there. The guys of Knight Security are expecting us, and Lance Knight and his wife, Eliza, have offered us the small apartment of the lighthouse they work out of. As long as we need it.
If they have caught the guy, then we turn around and head home.
It’s a two-week journey by boat. So I can only hope they’ve managed to catch this monster by then. Not because I don’t want to be here with Anastasia but because I do. I promised Zane I’d keep her safe, and we both know he didn’t just mean from danger.
He was asking if I’d respect her boundaries, and the answer to that is also an unequivocal yes. Anastasia is safe with me—mind, body, and heart.
As soon as I’m sure we’re secure, I head toward the cabin door and step down into the kitchen and dining room. The stack of blankets I’d set on the couch when I first got to the boat has been used to make the convertible couch into a bed for me.
The kitchen is empty, but the door leading down into the bedroom is partially open. I gently push the door open and peer inside.
“Hey,” Anastasia says, looking up from the Bible in her hands.
“Hey.” I push the door open all the way and head down the steps, then slide both hands into my pockets. My shoulder still aches from where it was dislocated last week, and I probably should have kept my sling on, but only having one usable arm makes me feel far too vulnerable.
Plus, it’s not the first time I’ve had my shoulder reset and not been able to use a sling for the recommended amount of time. Four years ago, Weston popped it back into place, and we finished a three-day mission in a secluded jungle as we hunted down the head of a narcotics ring.
Anastasia is leaning back against the headboard, wearing black leggings and a cream-colored sweatshirt. Her toes are painted the same pink as her fingernails, and are a bright splash of color against the black comforter.
I want to ask her if she’s okay, but I’d promised her I wouldn’t. Still, things have changed since that conversation. Our entire world has shifted.
“I’m sorry.”
Anastasia crosses her legs and pats the spot beside her for me to come take a seat. “For what?”
I don’t move from where I am, though. Not until I know we’re okay. “This. Not siding with you when you said you wanted to stay.”
She looks away from me for a moment, clearly contemplating how to respond. My stomach twists into nervous knots while I wait. “I always liked being on the water,” she finally says.
Not a clear response. “Are you angry with me?” It’s something I can live with because it means she’s alive to feel. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.
“No, Sawyer. I’m not angry with you,” she says softly, then pats the bed beside her again. This time, I cross the room toward her and take a seat on the edge to lean back against the headboard right alongside her. “Where are we headed?” she asks.
“Maine.”
“Maine?”
I nod. “We have some friends up there. Private security guys. Ryker works for them occasionally.”
“But that’s got to be at least a week, right?”
“Two,” I tell her. “I’m hoping we get word that they caught this guy and we can turn around. But for now, that’s where we’re headed.”
“Wow. Two weeks out on the open water with you.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “It’s almost enough to make a girl forget everything she had to leave behind.”
I look over at her, our gazes locking. How I could drown in her eyes and die a happy man. Which is why I cannot help but despise myself just a bit for the lines I’m about to draw. “As excited as I am, too, we have to keep things friend-based.”
