FIVE: Stand

2:08 PM

Jon laid his hand palm on the window, the tips of his fingers bone white under the pressure. "Jon, did you hear me?"

 

Had he heard Bruce sweep the precarious house of cards he was betting on away with one sentence? Yeah, he had. "When?" His voice sounded rough even to his own ears.

 

"He was in his patrol car, they are trying to figure out when it happened. Probably sometime in the middle of the night. Gunshot to the chest, high powered rifle from a distance."

 

Bruce gave him a few more details, but it got lost in the buzzing in his brain. The only man that had seen Lucas's new face, was dead. "Tell me someone else at the station--"

 

"Nope, it's a small town department. Banyon knows what he's doing, Jon. He went in during the lunch breaks, when staff was down. Unfortunately the hits are going to keep on coming. I called in a few favors, figuring I could just pull his personell file from Virginia. The photo isn't him. It's some retired cop from twenty years ago, swapped out for his. They don't even know when or how it happened."

 

The bed of his nail went a light purple as he pressed harder. "So, we have no face on this guy? Anyone from his department?" Surely there had to be someone out there that could let them know who they were dealing with.

 

"I'm going to fly into Virginia and talk to his unit. I'm not holding out much hope, Jon. You think your organization is tight? You've got nothing on cops, my friend."

 

Cops were an unknown entity. He didn't know anything about them as unit, or how they worked. Security had been a part of his life longer than it hadn't, but it was different from police procedures. Unknowns were traps, and he didn't want to walk into one. "What do you want us to do?"

 

"I want you to get the hell out of there. I've got a few safehouses I have access to."

 

"I'm not leaving."

 

Jon whirled around, her eyes were on her painting, but it had definitely been her voice. "Cam, we'll talk in a second."

 

Her eyes met his, the blue was the calm at the center of a lake. "I'm not running. Never again."

 

It wasn't running, it was strategic defense for the love of fuck. He wasn't going to be trapped on a beach with Lucas again. Facing down that kind of fate was just like begging for a slap. Or a bullett. "Look, can we get some police protection here at the house at least?"

 

"I'll see what I can do to get a State Trooper out front until me and my team can set up. I'll be there by morning."

 

It didn't feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough when it came to protecting this woman.  He jammed his phone back into his pocket and forced an even breath in and out before he faced her again. "Cam," he said softly.

 

"I can't let him run me out of this place, Jon. I just can't."

 

"Can't or won't?"

 

She tucked a hank of hair behind her ear. "Does it matter? They're one in the same for me."

 

He closed his eyes, his chest aching as his gut roiled. He wasn't enough to protect her. Heroes were for television and for storybooks, not for this reality. And he was no hero. Swallowing, he slowly walked to her. "He killed that cop in Surry."

 

She paled, her arms dropped to her sides. Her eyes were red, but there were no tears. "I can't run again, Jon." Her voice was thick, but her gaze never left his. "Anywhere I go, he'll find me. At least here, I know my surroundings. I know these cliffs, I know this town. I've walked this entire area nearly every day. I'm safer here."

 

Frustration and anger rode him hard. Something would die inside him if something happened to her, he was sure of it. "He used a high powered rifle from God knows how far away." He wanted to hide her away, go underground...he had enough money to do it. "If you remember the last time we had to face this guy, I was less than useful."

 

Her chin lifted. "You don't need to stay."

 

"Oh fuck off," he said without thinking. The fire in her eyes told him it had been the right thing to say, even if his mom would cuff him on the ear for it. She just drove him nuts. Seeing her both broken and strong at the same time wasn't helping his tightly wound feelings when it came to her. "I'm here because I have to be."

 

"I'm not your obligation." Her voice was cool and detached. The old Cam coming back in full force.

 

"It's not obligation," his voice ws louder than he intended and he forced himself to stand down. Softening his voice, he took another step closer. "I had to, it's as simple as that. You mean something to me, Cam."

 

She shook her head, taking two steps back, almost bumping into her easel. "No one asked you to watch over me, and I certainly didn't ask to have you back in my life. I was perfectly happy here alone."

 

"No?" He pointed to the painting. "Then what's my face doing up there?"

 

"Your face is an interesting subject."

 

He took another step toward her. Chasing her was stupid, but two years of worrying about her, two years of trying to get her out of his mind, two years of wanting her was burning inside him until he felt like he couldn't even breathe. "Your face haunts me too, Cam." His gut clenched at the admission, but the honesty fought free anyway. "You haunt me. Knowing you're up here alone kills me and then the call came. I couldn't not come."

 

She shook her head. "Lucas knows you, he hates you almost as much as he hates me now, Jon." She plowed her hands into her hair. "Don't make this any harder on me."

 

He didn't want to do that. It was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but he wasn't going anywhere. He stepped closer, his hand sliding around her hip as she tried to step back from him yet again. He wanted to pull her inside him, to protect and to hide her, but he settled for dragging her into his arms. She stiffened and his fingers tunneled under all that thick gold hair, closing his eyes when it wound around his fingers and wrist, all the way down to his elbow. He held her there against him, the fluttering of her heart against his chest, only made him more patient. "I can't go," he said against her temple. His cheek grazed hers, and then he finally stepped back.

 

She walked away from him, her hand at the window just where his had been, then she rested her forehead on her hand. "You'd stand for me?" Her voice was so hesitant, so filled with disbelief. And he knew that for her, he'd pretty much stand up to anything.

 

"I would."

 

In profile, he watched the one lonely tear track down her cheek and he moved to go back to her. "Even if it left your kids without a father? Because he will kill you, Jon. The first chance he gets, Lucas will kill you."

 

The faces of his children filled his mind. All of them painfully perfect and filled with innocence. And then Dorothea with her open heart and warrior strength. She'd always been his better half, his rock, and his constant. And it killed him that he loved two women. As irrational as it was, he did. Two weeks shouldn't have been enough to hold him. Two weeks should have just been a blip on his radar, but for two years he'd held onto that tiny little piece of what might have been.

 

And now with her in front of him, watching her try to be so strong even though she was so very alone it broke him in two.

 

He did move forward this time, smoothing his hand down her hair. "I'm going to do everything humanly possible to make sure things don't go that far, Cam. My kids mean everything to me, but I can't leave you. I won't let you do this alone."

 

She tipped her head down and her shoulders jumped a few times and he knew the tears would be there. Turning her around, he breathed a sigh of relief when she finally came into his arms. The tears wet his neck and were all the more heartbreaking in their silence.