find someone in that capacity. A gruesome body, covered in flames and melting skin, lying in a fetal position, lacking any hair, and the smell of burned flesh in the air. With one look, he would have known my mother was past saving.
But I was only six.
“I tried to get to her…so I could help her,” I admitted, barely able to hear myself over the visions of fire roaring in my head. “I tried to crawl toward her, but I never made it. A wooden beam in the ceiling had burned through and fallen on top of me, pinning my waist to the floor.”
Cowboy’s eyes narrowed and he breathed out through his nose. “That’s how you got your scars?”
I nodded slowly. “I don’t know how long I was trapped under it because I lost consciousness. The next thing I knew, I was being carried out by a fireman wearing a black helmet. I panicked and fought him, so he held me tighter and hummed to me all the way out to the ambulance. I guess I was in shock because I was pretty calm up until they rushed past me pushing a gurney with my mother wearing an oxygen mask.”
“Jesus. She was alive?”
“Barely. I heard them say her pulse was weak and thready and that her throat was swelling shut. They were rushing her to the ambulance to intubate her. At the time, I didn’t know what that even meant. I went wild trying to get up and go to her, but the paramedics gave me something to calm me down—a sedative, I suppose—and as I faded away, the last thing I remember was the fireman sitting next to me, humming a tune to keep me from being afraid.”
“Chief Swanson?”
“Yes. I didn’t learn his name until months later when he was called to testify in court. I wasn’t allowed to be there, but my stepdad mentioned his name and said he was the one who carried me out of the house. Before they had discovered me in the kitchen, they found my father in the living room and pulled him out. He was arrested on the spot after neighbors confirmed he showed up at our house right before all the yelling started and the fire broke out. He never admitted what he’d done. Denied it, even after they charged him with murder. My mom died en route to the hospital.”
“Did you see him in court?”
“No. Since I was a minor, the judge allowed my testimony to be recorded and shown to the jury in a closed courtroom. I was so badly burned that I was still in the hospital months later having multiple skin grafts when the jury finally found him guilty. Every day since, I have lived in fear he would be paroled and come after me. Now it’s happening. He’s not going to stop until he kills me, too.”
“Anna, listen to me,” Cowboy said, grasping my arms. “I’m not going to let that happen. You don’t have to go anywhere. I can protect you from him.”
I wanted to let him convince me to stay, but I couldn’t put him in that kind of danger. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask me. You’re my woman, remember? It’s my job,” he said, dutifully. He smiled, obviously trying to settle my nerves. “Besides, you have enough FBI agents surrounding you here that you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“You mean Jake?”
“Jake isn’t the only FBI agent around here. Hank is a retired FBI director, and Junior used to do some contract work for the Feds. And even though Ox, Judd, and I aren’t FBI, we learned from the best. Your fath—Stuart Nelson—will have to go through all of us to get to you. Just tell me you’ll stay.”
“I can’t do that. I always wanted to be surrounded by people who cared about me, and now that I am, I can’t risk their lives by putting them in danger,” I said, letting my head fall. “It’s best if I just disappear.”
He lifted my chin to gaze deep into my eyes. “That isn’t what’s best for everyone.”
With my emotions running so high, I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly. But his words filled me with a renewed sense of hope. All the years I’d spent running from my past had finally caught up to me. Would I be able to let all the fear go for Cowboy? For myself? I had to try, didn’t I?
“Okay, I’ll stay.”
Cowboy drew me a warm