Debra & Regan Webb & Black - To Honour And To Protect

Nico had promised to keep her presence here a secret as well as keep her informed of any suspicious strangers who might appear and ask questions. She had the radio, and maybe in a week or two she’d risk a trip into town to scour the internet for any warning signs and check in with Professor Hastings.

Addison discarded the idea immediately. Any contact with her friend and mentor earlier than planned would put her “insurance policy” in jeopardy. No one could know she’d sent him backup files of Craig’s treacherous dealings as well as more incriminating evidence. She thought of all the names she didn’t know on his contact lists, the lists she’d downloaded from his phone and computer before sending them anonymously to the FBI.

With any luck, they would keep that as an ace up their sleeve, the secret weapon he wouldn’t be prepared to explain away in court. Combined with what she’d sent to Professor Hastings, Craig would never be free long enough to cause trouble for her or Andy. As long as they caught him.

As she drifted off to sleep, one hand on the stock of the shotgun, she almost believed it.

Minutes or hours later, Addison woke with a start. It was tricky, listening past the blood thudding in her ears, to figure out what had startled her. The refrigerator was quiet and she heard the creak of wind in the trees.

Not the wind, she realized, as the curtains over the sink were still. She strained for another clue, telling herself it was just another overreaction to new surroundings.

This time the quiet splash of water under the house was followed immediately by the soft rasp of a boat being pulled onto the grasses that lined the shore. Damn it all to hell. Someone had found her.

Immediate worry for Nico flashed through her. Guilt pricked her conscience. Had they hurt him to get a lead on her direction? Since Leonie’s death, there had been no reason to head into this part of the swamp. Many of the locals believed she haunted the place, and they preferred to avoid even benevolent ghosts.

Addison gripped the shotgun and sat up without making a sound. It might very well be someone familiar with the shack and in need of shelter. If they’d noticed the generator was going, it made sense to stop and ask for help, but Addison prepared to shoot first and ask questions later.

For several long moments nothing more than typical night swamp sounds reached her. Maybe whoever had been in the boat just needed to sleep off a wrong turn. It happened, and hospitality was part of the odd society out here. If they stayed down there with the boat, they wouldn’t have any trouble from her.

She’d just relaxed her hold on the gun when she caught the unmistakable creaking tread of the third step in the string leading to the porch. Addison tried to breathe, telling herself Craig wouldn’t come by night and sure as hell wouldn’t come to a place so rural without vocalizing his discomfort in the process.

But that had been the Craig she’d known—thought she’d known—not the greedy bastard who’d brokered terrible deals that ended with dead US citizens.

She listened, her palms going damp as whoever was outside climbed closer to the porch. Part of her wanted to run, to grab Andy and bolt through the back, but she’d only heard one person. She could take one person.

“Addison?”

The inquiry, delivered in a low whisper, only revealed that the speaker was male. Nico would’ve announced himself already, knowing she was armed and prepared to defend herself.

So who else out here could possibly know her name?

The intruder made no secret of his approach now. He leaned close to the window. “Addison? Are you in there?”

Without a porch light, the intruder’s identity was impossible to make out, but he was nearly at the door.

“Hello?” The voice, a little stronger, sounded familiar. “Addi?”

Addison’s heart clutched. She knew that voice, and only one man had ever called her by that nickname. Drew Bryant, her long-dead fiancé.

She shook her head. Clearly she’d let the stress and worry get to her. Drew wasn’t here, wasn’t even alive. This was probably just a vivid dream induced by Andy’s talk of zombies. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, urging her brain to wake up.

The screen-door hinges squealed and the handle of the main door turned. A dream, she thought, it has to be a dream. No one but Nico knew she was here. As the door eased open, Addison leveled the shotgun at the man casting shadows across the weak moonlight spilling through the door.

“Addi, it’s me, Drew. I’m here to help.”

Wake up!

Addison fired. The loud report deafened her to the splintering wood as the buckshot pelted the front door. The reactions of the stranger in front of her were like a bad mime, first ducking behind the door, then rushing forward and taking the gun before she could fire again.

“It’s me,” he said, his voice lost in the ringing in her ears.

The single lightbulb came on and she covered her mouth, barely smothering the scream lodged in her chest. “No. No.” This wasn’t possible. It was a cruel twist of her overwrought imagination. She pushed to her feet, away from the man with Drew’s face. Any second now she’d wake up from this horrible nightmare.

“Mommy?” It was her son’s tiny voice that ripped through her confusion and brought her back to her senses. She had to protect Andy at all costs.

“I’m here, Andy.” She couldn’t decide. Comfort her son or confront the man in front of her.

“Take care of him.” The man carefully leaned the gun against the wall closest to her. “Then I’ll explain and you can shoot me if you want to.”

It was such a Drew thing to say that she followed her instincts and tended to Andy.

“Why did the gun go off? Are we in trouble?”

“Someone startled me, that’s all.” She ushered her boy back into bed and pulled the covers up tight. “It’s late. Go back to sleep.”

“Who is that?” He rubbed his eyes.

“An unexpected friend.” It was a simpler answer than explaining her possible hallucinations. “He doesn’t want to hurt us.” Apparitions and hallucinations didn’t have enough substance to hurt anyone. She hoped. Whoever—whatever—was out there, he’d taken the gun from her all too easily. “He startled me and I fired the gun, that’s all.”

“I’m scared.”

“That’s understandable,” she said with more calm than she felt with her heart pounding. “But I won’t let anything bad happen. In the morning I’ll tell you the whole story.” Assuming she’d know the story by then. At least it gave her a bit of time to think of something logical.

They both gave the doorway a look when they heard the scrape of a chair across the wood floor.

“Promise?”

She pressed a kiss to his brow and wrapped him in a big hug. “I promise.” Holding her son in her arms and smelling the sweet scent of his hair, she knew this wasn’t a bizarre, unbelievable nightmare. The man in the kitchen might really be Drew. She tensed. If so, he owed her a detailed explanation.

“You’ll tell me if I need to find Nico, right?” he whispered into her ear.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. She couldn’t imagine sending her little boy into the swamp, even if they had talked about that very scenario as a safety precaution. “That’s not necessary this time, especially not in the dark,” she said. “For now I need you to stay right here in this bed.” She leaned back, held his shoulders as she looked him in the eye. “Promise me.”

Andy promised, gave her another fierce hug and released her to deal with the man in the kitchen.

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