Sara K. Parker - Security Measures

She was weak, gasping for air. Hunter reached down, clearing the glass. “Try to stand!” He wanted to scream for her to hurry, to focus. He was afraid he’d lose her to an explosion at the last moment, but she was dazed, attempting to find her footing on the seat to push her way out.

Leaning close, Hunter held out his arms to her. “Hold on to me!”

She reached toward him, her hands locking on his upper arms as he latched onto her and yanked her over the dash and through the broken window. Others, eager to help, brought her to the ground as Hunter jumped off the hood. Easily lifting her into his arms, he again warned the crowd to retreat and jogged away from the burning vehicle.

Triss’s hand clutched the front of his shirt, her head tucked under his chin as he moved toward his truck. He’d only taken a few dozen steps when an explosion erupted behind them. Triss jerked in his arms, and he tightened his hold, glancing back to see her car in flames, bystanders gawking and filming.

A shudder ran through him as he considered what would have happened if he had simply finished up his shift and gone home today. Shaken, he walked to the passenger side of his truck and shifted Triss so he could open the door.

“You can put me down,” she said, the words whispered at the base of his neck, her voice raspy. “I can stand.”

He was surprised she hadn’t wriggled out of his arms already. She was the most fiercely independent person he’d ever met. But he suspected that if he set her on her feet right now, she’d collapse.

“I’ve got you.”

She didn’t argue, her fingers still grasping his shirt, her silky black hair grazing his chin. He pulled the door open, easily seating her inside and adjusting the seat so she could lean back. She’d started shivering, whether from shock or the chill in the air, he couldn’t be sure. But the truck was still running, and he leaned over to turn the heat on full-blast. He yanked off his jacket and tucked it gently under her chin and around her arms and sides.

She stared up at him, eyes so dark he could barely make out her pupils, long lashes shielding her thoughts. They’d been coworkers for a long time, and he was used to her quiet, but this was different.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Good. Just hang tight for a couple of minutes.” He pressed her door shut and reached for his phone to call for help, but he could already hear sirens. Plenty of others had likely already called in the accident.

Assuming it had been an accident.

He eyed her flaming car as he moved to the driver’s side of his truck. He didn’t know a lot about cars, but he was pretty sure it was rare for a vehicle to start smoking near the gas tank and then explode. As far as he knew, fires usually started under the hood.

He frowned, sliding into his seat and closing his door. Or maybe he’d been working at Shield too long. Nearly five years in, he had to admit he was prone to suspicion. It wasn’t like she’d been driving a brand-new vehicle. The Mustang had to be at least ten years old. There must have been a problem with it because the alternative was that someone had caused the fire, and that didn’t seem likely. Who would want to harm Triss? What motive could someone have?

Not that he and Triss spent much time talking about her personal life. In fact, he’d barely seen her since she’d moved into Harmony nearly four months ago. She’d cut her hours at Shield and switched to the night shift three days a week, so they only worked together on the rare occasion one of them took on a double. She’d explained that the free room and board would help her finish her graduate degree faster, which he respected. She had her sights on a career as a forensic investigator with the FBI, and he had no doubt she’d be one of the best in the field. But he suspected she’d had other motives for cutting her hours at Shield—motives that included avoiding Hunter and his two kids. He couldn’t blame her for that, even if he wished things could be different. She had big goals, and an instant family would only slow her down.

Next to him, she had tugged his jacket closer and closed her eyes.

Something had shifted between them over the past year or so, their friendship growing rapidly. In fact, not long ago, Hunter had gotten the impression that they might have something deeper than friendship, but Triss had backed away every time he’d started to get too close. Still, despite the growing distance between them, Hunter had been compelled to go to the cemetery a while ago. He’d been late because he’d been waiting for his relief at work, but was just in time to see her running from the graveside, her normally deep tan skin pale. He’d stopped his pursuit when she climbed into her car, slammed the door shut and leaned her forehead on her steering wheel, her shoulders quaking with grief. He had never seen Triss emotional, and he had a feeling she didn’t want him to. Instead, he’d gotten in his truck and decided to follow her at a distance to make sure she got safely to Harmony, considering her emotional state.

Turned out, she hadn’t been safe at all.

He glanced over at her again, noting that her shaking was starting to subside. She was still silent, her eyes closed, her shiny black hair spilling over her shoulders and onto the reclined seat.

For a moment, he thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she opened her eyes and turned her head toward him.

“Why are you here?”

The blunt question caught him off guard, but it was Triss’s way.

“I heard—”

“I mean—”

They both spoke at the same time, and Hunter stopped, waiting.

“I mean, you usually work day shift,” Triss explained. “Shouldn’t you still be there?”

“I heard Luke talking with Roman yesterday about the funeral. I thought you could use a friend.”

Triss’s brother Luke had been friends with their boss, Roman, for years, but beyond the daily prayer meeting they held each morning, the two rarely had personal conversations on the job—which was why Hunter had taken note of yesterday’s conversation, even though he knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping.

In fact, he’d almost talked himself out of going to the cemetery today. He didn’t know the man who had died, and he hadn’t even seen Triss in weeks. But he’d wanted to be there for her. As far as he could tell, she didn’t have many good friends—if any—and he knew what it was like to navigate death alone. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Especially Triss, who he had long suspected had already endured her fair share of sorrow.

She looked away, and he wondered what she was thinking. Triss was a difficult person to read, even more difficult to get to know. Normally, he would steer clear of someone with her personality. But the day she’d offered to watch his kids when their nanny was sick had changed everything. He’d come home to peals of laughter, walking into a mess in the kitchen that resembled the aftermath of an indoor blizzard. Powdered sugar and flour covered nearly every surface, the kids and Triss included. His kids were rolling with giggles, and Triss was leaning against the counter, helpless against the laughter.

Until that moment, he wasn’t sure Triss even knew how to laugh, how to really smile. And since then, he’d made it a mission to hear that laugh and see that smile as often as he could. Which hadn’t been often since August.

He turned fully to her, but she didn’t look at him, her profile tilted toward the window.

“Must have been a quick funeral at the church,” Hunter said. “I barely made it to the cemetery before you were flying out of the parking lot.” She was teased mercilessly at Shield for her lead foot. Usually, she laughed it off. Now, she adjusted her position in the seat, turning toward her mangled car.