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"Raf," I called out, my voice cutting through the calm morning like the bow of a ship through calm waters.
He looked up, dark eyes squinting against the glare of the early sun. "Sawyer?" Confusion laced his tone, but he straightened up, brushing his hands on his oil-stained pants. "What brings you here this early?"
"Need to talk." I didn't waste time with pleasantries. Hannah's safety wasn't something I could afford to be polite about.
"About what?" Raf leaned against the railing, his gaze sharp despite the hour.
"Rick Dawson." I spat the name out like a bad taste in my mouth. "Know anything about his dealings?"
"Rick?" Raf’s brow furrowed. "The guy's trouble, sure, but why are you asking me?"
"He threatened Hannah the other night. Bruised her wrist." I clenched my jaw so tight it ached, trying to keep my cool. "I want to know why. She's had some trouble at the clinic and after that, I'm convinced it was him."
"Jesus, Sawyer..." Raf shook his head, disbelief etching his features.
“I went over to talk to him.”
“Talk?” He asked, knowing it was bullshit.
“Well whatever I’d planned was all for nothing anyway. Man disappeared. No sign of him or his truck. You hear anything about that?”
“Can’t say I do.”
I paced the dock, my boots thumping heavily. "Hannah's scared, man. And I'll be damned if I let anything happen to her."
"Alright." Raf held up a hand, signaling for me to calm down. "Look, I don't know much. Just that he's not the kinda guy you want in your corner. I heard whispers about Rick being involved in some shady deals off the books."
"Unlicensed cargo?" I speculated, scrubbing a hand over my face as the morning's first light began to stain the sky pink.
"Could be," Raf conceded with a shrug. "Or worse."
I rolled my neck, shaking out the tension that had taken over my body.
"Look," Raf said, his gaze drifting out to where the water kissed the horizon, "I don't know the guy well. Hell, who would want to? But he works on the High Hades. And that tub's a floating disaster waiting to happen. They play fast and loose with every rule in the book."
"Figures," I muttered under my breath.
"Trouble seems to follow that boat like a shadow," Raf continued, and I could almost see the rumors swirling around him like sea mist. "Bad crowd, worse reputation."
"Can you ask around? See if you can learn anything else?"
"Yeah, man. Of course."
I stopped pacing and faced him squarely, my eyes boring into his. "I gotta keep her safe."
"Understood." Raf nodded slowly, the weight of my concern settling over him. "I'd do the same for Ellie."
"Thanks." My breath came out in a huff of gratitude and frustration. Grateful for Raf's understanding, frustrated that I had nothing solid to go on. But I'd take every scrap I could get, build my defense for Hannah, brick by bloody brick.
twenty-eight
HANNAH
Despite me not saying a word toanyone, the news spread like wildfire. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The town’s reaction was a tidal wave, and I found myself buoyed by the swell of support. It seemed like every time I stepped out onto Main Street, someone was stopping me, clapping me on the back, or thrusting their number into my hand with offers to help.
“Hey, Hannah!” called out Mrs. Patterson from her flower shop, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the morning crowd. “You need any help with...you know, the animals? My nephew, he’s got a truck. Big one. Could carry.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson,” I replied, touched by her concern. Her nephew was all of seventeen and had just gotten his license, but the fact that she offered meant the world.
