“I love you, Andy. No matter what. Remember that.”
He nodded, then threw his arms around her shoulders, sobbing. “I—I love you too. I’m so sorry, Tess! I’m so sorry.”
“I know. It’s going to be okay.” She rubbed his back as he let it all out—the fear, the guilt, and the shame. When he finally got his emotions under control and pulled away, a thought occurred to her. “You know what? Why don’t you invite Kelle over tonight for dinner? I’d love to meet her finally.”
He blinked. “What?”
“We’ll order pizza and play Jenga or something. Brian will be here too. You need normal right now, and so do I.”
His eyes softened slightly, and a faint smile appeared. “Okay.”
It wasn’t much.
But it was a start.
Chapter Thirty-Four
By one p.m., she’d fielded what seemed like an endless stream of phone calls. Patty. Grace. Sean. A few friends and coworkers. And Dr. Hansen—for the second time. All checking up on her. Three neighbors who’d heard about her abduction and rescue on the morning news had also called. Once word had gotten out about an agent-involved shooting last night, the media had been all over the story, and Tess’s name had been released—something Brian warned her about. Neither was happy about it, but it would’ve been public record soon anyway. Thankfully, Frank and Amelia Carbone said they would tell the other neighbors she was okay and not to call her for a few days, giving her time to decompress.
Brian had called about thirty minutes ago to let her know he was on the way to the beach house and would stop to pick up sandwiches for the three of them. The relief she felt knowing he’d be there soon had eased some of her anxiety.
Since the kitchen and bathrooms were now spotless, she’d turned to the laundry—tackling it in between reassuring everyone that she was fine—just to do something normal. Something mindless. Sheets. Towels. T-shirts. Familiar fabric beneath her fingers. She focused on the rhythm—shake, smooth, fold. Stack.
The ordinary domesticity of it should have been comforting.
It wasn’t.
Her shoulders stayed tight. Her ears strained for sounds that didn’t belong.
The washing machine suddenly slammed into its high-speed spin cycle. The violent, unbalanced thudding against the metal drum exploded through the quiet.
She screamed.
Not a gasp. Not a startled yelp. A full, raw scream tore out of her before she could stop it, her hands flying up instinctively as her heart slammed against her ribs. The basket tipped, clean clothes spilling across the floor.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway.
“Tess!” Andy burst into the laundry room, eyes wide, chest heaving.
She was already laughing by then—thin and shaky and far too loud. The kind of laugh that didn’t match the situation.
“It’s fine,” she said, lifting the lid of the machine to adjust the load. “I wasn’t paying attention, and the spin cycle caught me off guard.”
Her pulse still thundered in her ears.
Andy’s gaze moved from her face to the jumbled pile on the floor and back again. He didn’t look convinced. Not even a little.
He bent over and tossed the clean clothes back into the basket. “This looks like all my stuff. I’ll fold it.”
Even though she knew some of it would get shoved in wrinkled lumps into his dresser drawers, she didn’t argue. “Thanks.”
The sound of tires in the driveway had her glancing out the room’s small window.
Her shoulders dropped and her heart rate settled when Brian climbed out of his truck, holding a brown paper bag. Behind him, a black-and-white shape launched out of the open driver’s door to join him.
Jinx.
Dan’s lab/pit bull mix barked happily and ran toward the back of the house ahead of Brian. The sight of the goofy dog brought a smile to Tess’s face—a real one this time. She followed Andy out to the hallway and kept going toward the living room when he veered into his bedroom with the laundry basket.
