“Maggie, where do you want the raffle baskets?”
I latch onto the interruption gratefully. “Near the front entrance. Keep the silent auction items closer to the adoption tables.”
The volunteer nods and hurries away again while Jules continues eyeing me.
“You need to be careful with him,” he says once we’re alone again.
“I know.”
“I mean emotionally too,” he insists. Jules sighs before dragging one hand down his face. “You look at that man like you’re already choosin’ your weddin’ gown.”
“That issodramatic.”
“You know me. Dramatic is my love language.”
I give him a small smile.
Then Elvis trots proudly into the lobby carrying a stuffed squirrel almost as big as he is, while Mr. Pickles charges after him barking like the entire shelter is under attack. One of the volunteers yelps when Elvis nearly crashes into a display table, and suddenly, three people are chasing dogs through the middle of ribbon boxes and donation bags.
By five o’clock, the shelter finally starts slowing down enough that exhaustion sits heavily on everyone’s faces. The balloon arch has been secured successfully. Adoption packets are neatly stacked near the front desk. Tables line the lobby, filled with raffle baskets, pet toys, blankets, gift cards, and homemade signs donated by local vendors. And all the dogs have been groomed.
Jules and I lock the door behind the last volunteer and leave the shelter with Viktor trailing us. Twilight has started stretchingacross the city in blue and gold shadows that make it look deceptively peaceful.
Jules steps closer and squeezes my shoulders gently. “Be careful tonight.”
Emotion builds unexpectedly in my throat because beneath all his sarcasm and dramatic commentary sits genuine fear for me, and I hate that I’m the reason it’s there.
“I will.”
His eyes search mine. “Promise?”
“I promise,” I say, making a cross over my heart.
He studies me like he’s deciding whether he believes me, then finally nods once and steps back while Viktor closes the SUV door behind me.
The drive home passes mostly in silence, giving my thoughts entirely too much room to spiral.
Savannah glows outside the tinted windows beneath strings of restaurant lights, with crowded patios filled with people laughing over drinks. At the same time, tourists wander River Street, carrying shopping bags and frozen cocktails. Music spills from open bar doors. Horse carriages roll slowly past old brick buildings. Couples stroll beneath live oaks draped in Spanish moss while the warm evening air blurs the entire city into one beautiful picture of normal life.
For one painful second, I miss being part of that normal life. Anonymous, safe, and untouched by whatever storm keeps circling closer around Alexei.
Viktor finally speaks as we turn onto my street. “Your mother received additional security this afternoon.”
My head snaps toward him. “What?”
“She wasn’t informed directly.”
Frustration surges through me fast enough to make me sit forward in the seat. “You put security around my mama without tellin’ me?”
“We protected her without alarming her.”
I stare at the back of his head in disbelief.
“She remains safe,” he adds.
The crazy part is I understand exactly why Alexei made the decision, which only annoys me more because it gets harder to stay angry when fear keeps proving him right.
When we pull up outside my apartment, another unfamiliar SUV already sits parked half a block away beneath a streetlight. My eyes move toward it automatically.
