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"What happens now?" she asks when she can talk again. Her voice is muffled against my shirt.

"Now he gets booked. Tomorrow morning he sees a judge. And I'll file for an emergency restraining order first thing."

"Will they let him go?" She pulls back to look at me, and her eyes are red and swollen.

"Not if I can help it. Not with these charges."

"But they might."

"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure he stays locked up. And if he does get out, he'll have conditions. No contact. No coming within five hundred feet of you. If he violates that, he goes straight back to jail."

She nods but doesn't look convinced. "He's not going to stop."

"Yes, he will. Because I'm not giving him another chance to get near you."

She studies my face for a long moment, then asks quietly, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because it's my job."

"No. It's more than that. You could have just filed a report and moved on. Instead you're..." She trails off, shaking her head. "Why?"

Because I know what it's like to miss the signs until it's too late. Because since I came home, I've made it my job to make sure nobody in this town slips through the cracks. Because when I look at her, I see something I thought I'd lost the ability to see.

"Because you deserve someone on your side," I say finally. It's not the whole truth but it's enough for now.

She reaches up and touches my face, her fingers cold against my jaw. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Yeah, I do."

We stand there for a moment, and I'm very aware that I should leave. Go back to the station. Process Trevor. Write up the reports. Do my actual job.

But I don't want to leave her alone. Not tonight.

"I have to go to the station," I say reluctantly. "Make sure everything's processed right. But I'll come back as soon as I'm done. If you want me to."

"How long?"

"Couple hours. Maybe three."

"Okay." She wraps her arms around herself. "I'll be okay."

"Lock the door. All of them. And call me if you need anything. I mean it, Lyla. Anything."

"I will."

I kiss her before I can think better of it. Just lean down and press my lips to hers, soft and quick and probably inappropriate given everything that just happened. But she kisses me back, her hand curling into my shirt, and when we break apart, we're both breathing harder.

"I'll be back soon," I say.

"Okay."

I force myself to walk back to my truck. As I drive away, I watch her in the rearview mirror. She's standing in the driveway wrapped in that oversized sweater, watching me go. She looks very small and very alone.

I pick up my radio. "Ethan, you at the station yet?"

"Just pulled in. You coming?"