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“Anything for our critters. You say the word, sugar.” She winked at me, her wrinkled hand waving me on.
I moved through the day in a daze, the weight of what I’d done - and still had to do - pressing down on me. Every glance in my direction felt like an inspection, every conversation a debriefing.
“Think we’ve summoned the cavalry,” Sawyer said, as we found ourselves surrounded yet again outside the diner by concerned townsfolk.
“Looks like it,” I agreed, forcing a smile as I accepted another slip of paper with contact details scribbled on it. “I didn’t expect everyone to...care so much.”
“Small town, Hannah,” he reminded me, his arm slipping around my waist in a public declaration of solidarity. “We look after our own here.”
Later, back at my place, I sat on the porch steps, a blanket around my shoulders against the cool evening air, staring at the restless sea. Each crash of the waves echoed the turmoil within me. I was glad for the support, but each offer to aid in the investigation was another reminder of the grim reality we faced. Animal abuse and dog fighting wasn’t just a distant concept; it was here, in this community I loved.
“Thoughtful?” Sawyer asked, settling beside me, offering a steaming mug of tea.
“Overwhelmed,” I corrected, taking the mug and letting the warmth seep into my chilled fingers. “I feel like I opened Pandora’s box, and now everything’s spilling out.”
“Hey,” he said gently, turning my face towards him. “You did the right thing. People want to help because they know it’s the right thing, too.”
“I know,” I sighed, leaning into him, feeling the steadiness of his presence. “But knowing and feeling are two different things. It’s hard to reconcile.”
“Give it time,” he advised, pulling me closer. “You’re not alone in this. None of us are.”
His words were a balm, even if the sting of truth lingered. I sipped my tea, let out a shuddering breath, and watched the moonlight dance on the ocean’s surface. Tomorrow would bring more challenges, more decisions, but tonight, I had the town behind me and Sawyer beside me. And somehow, that made the gathering storm seem a little less daunting.
twenty-nine
SAWYER
“Damn it, not again!”I heard Hannah curse from the other end of the phone later that day, her frustration palpable even through the static.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, the protective urge flaring up inside me at the sound of distress in her voice.
“It’s the clinic. Someone’s gone and messed with the locks again. I can’t get in, and there are pups that need feeding,” she explained, her tone a mix of anger and helplessness.
“Stay put, I’m on my way,” I said, already grabbing my keys and heading for the door. I could picture her there, standing outside the animal clinic, her determination to care for those animals unwavering despite the obstacles thrown her way.
“Thanks, Sawyer,” she said, a small sigh escaping her, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Let’s hope you never have to find out,” I muttered under my breath as I revved up my motorcycle, the roar of the engine echoing my frustration. Somebody was trying to rattle Hannah, and by extension, me. And I wasn’t about to let that slide. Not now, not ever.
* * *
The ride to the clinic was a blur of speed and fury. I parked my bike with an angry skid, gravel spitting out beneath the tires. My boots hit the ground hard, stride purposeful as I strode up to where Hannah stood, her figure tense against the backdrop of the small building.
“Show me,” I demanded, my voice low, simmering like the tide before a storm.
“Here.” She pointed to the mangled padlock, her blonde hair catching in the breeze, looking disheveled but still damn beautiful.
“Motherfucker,” I swore under my breath, examining the damage. The metal had been twisted, rendered useless. It was deliberate, personal, and it made my blood boil.
“Hey,” Hannah’s soft voice broke through my internal tirade, “Sawyer, look at me.”
I turned to face her, my honey brown eyes meeting her emerald ones, which held an ocean’s depth of calm. It was like she could see the tempest inside me, ready to break free.
“Take a deep breath for me, okay?” she said gently, reaching out to lay a hand on my chest. “We’ll get through this, together.”
“Damn right we will,” I growled, but her touch, warm and steady, started to quell the rage. “It just... pisses me off. You don’t deserve this crap, Hannah.”
Her fingers traced the inked lines on my arm, following the swirls and edges of my sleeve tattoo, soothing the ire that tensed every muscle. “I know, but getting mad isn’t going to fix the lock,” she reasoned, her tone playful yet firm. “Let’s focus on what we can control.”
