The same way storms came.
The same way rivers moved.
Hersh McDougal protected what he loved.
And God help me…
I still wanted to be something he loved.
Even after all this time.
He stepped back just enough to look at me properly.
Not letting go completely.
Never fully letting go.
“Second,” he said quietly, “we figure out who’s getting close enough to scare you.”
Fear flickered low in my stomach again.
Reality.
Right.
Cartel.
Witness protection.
Danger.
Not just heartbreak and old feelings.
“I don’t want anybody getting hurt because of me.”
Hersh’s expression hardened instantly.
“That decision’s not yours.”
“You don’t understand how dangerous these people are.”
“I understand enough.”
No arrogance.
No bravado.
Just calm certainty.
Which honestly scared me a little.
Because Hersh didn’t sound like a man trying to prove himself.
He sounded like a Ranger already preparing for war.
I pulled back enough to study him again.
Really study him.
