My vision blurs at the edges. The words swim before my eyes as memories surface—another letter, another threat, another time I let someone else handle the danger while I maintained distance.
"This is deliberate escalation." My voice sounds distant to my own ears. "They want you scared enough to stop investigating."
"Jamie and I already figured out they're targeting the festival supply chain specifically." Calla's tone has shifted, becoming more businesslike as she recognizes my professional focus.
"No more pulling back." I look up from the letter, meeting her eyes. "No more careful approaches or controlled investigations. We move forward together, and we move fast."
But Calla shakes her head, her brown eyes flashing with something harder than professional disagreement. She stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the wooden floor.
"No. Absolutely not." Her voice carries a brittle edge I haven't heard before. "You don't get to disappear, act like nothinghappened between us, and then storm back in here making demands because suddenly you care."
I set the threatening letter down carefully, my hands steadier than they have any right to be.
"Calla, listen?—"
"I'm done listening to you." She moves away from the desk, putting distance between us. "You made it crystal clear that whatever happened in my home was a mistake you'd rather forget. Fine. But you don't get to flip a switch and decide we're partners again just because things got dangerous."
Her composure cracks slightly, revealing the hurt underneath. The sight of it makes my chest tighten with something approaching panic.
"That's not what this is about."
"Isn't it?" She crosses her arms, her structured blazer pulling taut across her shoulders. "You've been treating me like a colleague you barely tolerate. Cold, distant, professional. Now someone threatens me and suddenly you're ready to charge in like some protective?—"
"Like someone who cares about you."
The words escape before I can stop them, raw and unfiltered. Calla's mouth snaps shut, but her eyes remain guarded.
"You have a funny way of showing it."
I step around the desk, closing the space she's tried to create. She doesn't retreat, but her jaw tightens as I approach.
"You're right. I've been a coward." My voice drops lower, rough with honesty I've been avoiding. "What happened between us scared the hell out of me, so I ran. I convinced myself keeping distance was protecting both of us."
"Protecting us from what?"
"From me ruining everything I touch." The admission tastes bitter. "From getting too close to someone who matters and watching it all fall apart when I inevitably screw up."
Calla's expression shifts slightly, some of the rigid anger softening into something more complex.
"So you decided to hurt me first? Make the choice for both of us?"
Before I can second-guess myself, I reach out and cup her face in my hands. Her skin feels warm against my palms, and for a heartbeat she stiffens, ready to pull away.
Then I kiss her.
She fights it at first—her hands pressing against my chest, her body rigid with resistance. But something gives way, and suddenly she's kissing me back with a fierceness that speaks of days of suppressed frustration and want.
When I finally pull back, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing hard.
"I'm sorry." The words come out rough, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for being a coward, for hurting you, for making you think any of this was your fault."
Her eyes flutter closed, and I feel some of the tension leave her shoulders.
"I won't let that stop me from protecting you. From protecting this town." I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. "Whatever's coming for Harvest Hollow, we face it together. No more running."
CHAPTER 21
CALLA
