The desperation.
The clawing grief.
The trauma.
Snatches of her arrival at the hospital came back to her right then, and she almost groaned aloud at the overwhelming flood of emotions. But she took a deep breath, looking up into the eyes of the man who had guarded her safety that night, and was guarding her safety now. Despite the emotional onslaught, a smile tugged at her mouth. “My guardian,” she murmured.
He smiled and she swore two spots of color appeared beneath the bronzed skin of his cheekbones. “No. Lots of good people had your back that day. But Josie, you’re the one who survived, who made it out, and you should never cease giving yourself the credit you deserve. You amaze me.”
Her chest flooded with warmth, but she felt awkward too, undeserving of such high praise. She’d done what she had to do, yes, but anyone else would have done the same, given similar opportunities in that harrowing situation. And the fact remained, she hadn’t managed to do the one thing that truly mattered: she hadn’t saved her child. She hadn’t kept her promise to him. Her baby boy.
At least not yet.
She gave him a smile. “Thank you, Zach.”
He regarded her. “I heard your garage sale didn’t go so well today.”
She cringed internally. She hated that the man who’d just praised her and made her feel proud, knew of her failure. “Not exactly. Did Detective Keene tell you about the articles pinned next to my flyers?” She felt the shame of that moment she’d first seen the ad hung up in the grocery store, the realization of what it was.
Zach nodded. “Yeah. Think it was your cousin who did that?”
She shrugged. “It’s my best guess. Even if someone else put that rat in my house to try to scare me or to . . . I don’t know, send a message, no one has reason to try to run me out of this community except Archie.”
“Don’t let him, Josie.”
His tone was so incredibly serious. She met his eyes, a sense of wonder overcoming her. He’s rooting for me, she thought with a pang in her chest at the realization. This man is not just here to protect my safety, he’s on my side. A flush of warmth blossomed under her skin. She didn’t know him at all really, but his belief in her meant so much. “You’ve fought harder battles than this,” he said, looking at her meaningfully.
That was the understatement of the century.
She’d had a similar thought earlier that day, but after the—mostly—failed garage sale, she hadn’t been able to hold on to the sentiment. Detective Zach Copeland had helped her reclaim it with his sincerity, and she was grateful. She felt shy though, off balance, out of her element. While his words of support had meant the world to her, responding to compliments was unfamiliar to Josie, and she wasn’t sure what to say.
She stood and gathered their empty plates, but as she was turning, he reached out and touched her arm. A charge moved between the place where their skin met, and suddenly Josie felt as if it was the only place she existed. Just there. The place where their molecules meshed.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he said, his eyes moving to where his hand rested on her arm as though he felt the same energy flowing between them.
She stepped back and his hand fell away. “You didn’t. I appreciate what you said. It means a lot to me. I’m trying to see myself as a survivor instead of a victim.”
“You should,” he said as she took the plates to the sink and placed them inside.
She turned around, leaning against the porcelain apron. “How long do you guys think you’ll be here?”
Zach got up, gathering the glasses and placing them on the counter next to the sink where she stood. As he leaned back, she caught his scent, a light col
ogne, or maybe just deodorant. Clean. Masculine. Nice. He looked at her for a moment, indecision in his expression. “We found another girl earlier this evening.”
She sucked in a small breath. “Another girl?”
Zach watched her closely as he nodded.
“My God. Same . . . same as the other one?”
“Yes.”
Josie swallowed, horror screaming through her. “Where?” she managed to ask.
“Another basement in an abandoned house in Clifton.”
“Same manner of death? Shackles?” She felt her lips move but her voice sounded distant somehow.