Julie Anne Lindsey - Shadow Point Deputy

Dozens of people stared openly, pointing their cell phones in her direction. Her brother was going to die of humiliation when he saw the footage and be infinitely angry she hadn’t opened up to him about what happened at the docks.

She dropped her head forward and begged her mind to think.

How could she possibly explain this away?

A set of strong hands wrapped around her elbows and hoisted her from the water with a whoosh.

Rita screamed. Her feet found purchase on the ground outside the fountain, and she locked her palms together on instinct to thrust against her assailant’s chest, sending him back several steps.

Cole relented, palms up as he widened his stance and waited. “Hey. It’s just me.” He watched silently as her scrambled brain put the pieces together.

“Cole!” Recognition hit, and Rita flung herself at him. She buried her face against his shoulder and exhaled the suffocating terror from her lungs. “I thought I was dead. I thought he’d kill me right here in front of everyone.”

Cole’s broad, warm hands found the small of her back and pressed her to him. “You’re okay, Rita.” His heart thrummed beneath her ear, chest rising and falling in quick bursts.

The sound of her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. The soft scents of spearmint, earth and aftershave that wafted off his heated skin didn’t help.

She peeled herself away with burning cheeks. “You’re soaked.” She brushed the sodden fabric of his uniform shirt with shaky hands. “I’m soaked and now... I’m so sorry.”

Rita locked her knees in frustration, and the tears began to flow.

“Hey.” Cole pulled her back against him and stroked her sopping hair. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Okay? But you’ve got to trust me.” He took her hands in his, and led her away from the wretched fountain and massive crowd. “First, let’s get you out of here. I need to call this in, and you need something dry to wear. I’ve got towels and a first aid kit in the gym bag in my cruiser. How hurt are you?”

“I’m not.”

He turned her palm up in his, both their hands now painted with her blood. “No?”

“Scrapes. From the marble.”

He nodded stiffly. “What else?”

Her legs were sore and her head was fuzzy. “Bruises. Ow.” Her vision blurred. “I think I hit my...” Rita’s knees buckled and the world went black.

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