10. Banks

Chapter 10

Banks

It's one of those Fridays where the clock seems to be mocking me, inching its way toward five PM with all the enthusiasm of a turtle on a Sunday stroll. I'm stuck in my office, pretending to focus on the paperwork scattered across my desk, but really my mind's a million miles away. Or more accurately, it's at home with Yvette.

It's been a hell of a couple of weeks, adjusting to the whiplash of life changes, but having my little knockout in my life has made everything absolutely perfect. It's been an adjustment, but she's completely stolen my heart. I glance at my watch as the anticipation of getting home to her flows through me.

I'm jolted from my daydreams by the sound of footsteps approaching the office. I look up from the knock on my office door to find Sheriff Dillon Armstrong standing in the doorway. He strolls in, giving me a knowing look, and I instantly realize this visit isn't just a casual catch-up. Dillon's not one for closing doors unless there's a wave about to crash, and the way he quietly shuts mine sends a chill creeping up my spine.

"Afternoon, Banks," he says, settling into the chair opposite my desk, his face a mask of stoic calm that only amplifies the seriousness of whatever his news might be.

"Dillon." I nod, leaning back in my chair, bracing against what feels like an inevitable shift in the day's trajectory. "When you walk into a guy's office five minutes before quitting time, it usually means something's up."

"You're not wrong there," he says, exhaling slowly. "We've got a situation, and I wanted you to know about it."

My thoughts immediately flit to Yvette and the life together we've begun building. "Don't fucking leave me hanging here. What happened?"

Dillon locks his gaze onto mine, his voice steady yet edged with the gravity of the news he's relaying. "It's about Richard. He was terminated from his job at the law firm this afternoon. Apparently, things got ugly with his employer when they found out about the incident."

The name alone is enough to make my blood pressure spike while every caveman instinct in me kicks into overdrive.

"There's more," Dillon continues, his words a steady drumbeat in the suddenly tense air. "He went back home and decided to cut off his ankle monitor. As of now, he's on the run." His words hit me with the force of a hammer right between the eyes, and my heart races as fear cuts through my soul. Before I'm able to vocalize the words flashing through my mind, he rushes on. "Judge Hamilton already issued a fugitive warrant, and I've contacted the Marshals to find him before rushing right over here."

The air in the room turns heavy and charged as I consider the situation. " I can't fucking lose her," runs through my mind on a constant loop. Richard being off the radar is the last thing Yvette needs.

She's been diligently putting that chapter of her life in the rearview mirror while making future plans with me. This turn of events throws a big fucking monkey wrench into the easy, low-stress existence we've been maintaining since she moved in.

"Motherfucking son-of-a-bitch," I roar, the turmoil stirring beneath the surface coloring my voice.

Dillon gives a grim nod. "We've got a team out looking for him, but it's like he vanished into thin air. I came right over to let you know."

My mind races, a slideshow of potential outcomes scrambling for priority as plans upon plans start forming in my mind. Protecting Yvette is priority number one, and I'm already one step ahead on how to reinforce the proverbial castle walls.

"Thanks for the heads up. I need an escort to my house." I grab my keys and jacket and rush out without turning off my computer.

"I figured as much," Dillon says, following me out the door.

As I pull out into traffic, I dial Mark and listen to the phone ring through the Bluetooth. I barely give him a chance to answer before I blurt out, "That asshole is on the run."

"Fuck," he mutters, echoing my thoughts. "I have my eyes on her, and I won't let anything happen," the efficient bodyguard reassures me, causing my heart to slow a little.

"Where is she?" I'm heading straight for her. I need to see for myself that she's okay. My fingers tap a stressed rhythm against the steering wheel as I navigate through the Silver Spoon Falls mid-evening traffic.

"We're over at Ms. Viola's," Mark replies. "Yvette wanted to pack a few more things to bring over to your house."

"Stay put," I tell him, relief and anxiety intertwining in my soul. "I'm on my way there now. I'll handle everything when I get there."

The call ends, and I inhale deeply, doing my best to keep a clear head. Mark's a solid fucking bodyguard who has proven himself countless times already. But knowing that Richard's out there, a loose cannon with his sights on my little knockout, has my adrenaline doing acrobatics.

Driving through town seems to take an eternity. My thoughts are laser-focused on getting to Yvette as quickly as I can no matter what.

When I pull up in front of Ms. Viola's place and see Mark's SUV parked behind my personal truck, my heart settles into place. Viola's got her porch lights twinkling, casting a gentle glow across the wooden steps where she sits with Herman, the iguana, perched next to her with an air of dignified superiority.

"Evening, young man!" Ms. Viola calls out, waving an enthusiastic greeting as I climb out of the truck.

"Good evening, Ms. Viola," I call back, flashing a quick grin despite the swirling storm in my gut. "Is Yvette in the apartment?"

"She sure is." She gestures toward the side of her house.

I rush past the elderly woman with a wave and race up the stairs. When I open the door, I find Yvette packing a couple of boxes, multitasking like a pro, her movements infused with that relentless determination I've come to fucking love so much. Mark's standing nearby, eyeing the door with a bodyguard's instinctive protectiveness, nodding at me as I enter.

"Hey there, hunny bunny," Yvette says, glancing up and catching sight of me. Her smile is momentarily eclipsed by a flicker of concern. "Mark told me about Richard the creep's stupidity."

I walk over and pull her into my arms. "Don't worry, I won't let that motherfucker get anywhere near you."

"I know." She smiles up at me, and I'm able to take a deep breath for the first time since Dillon Armstrong strolled into my office. "You're pretty much stuck with me from now on."

"I couldn't fucking survive without you," I breathe against her soft lips. "I don't ever plan to let you out of my sight again."

"That's going to make things a little difficult." She laughs against the side of my neck, sending hunger coursing through me.

"I fucking don't care." There's something I need to do, and it can't wait another second. "I really didn't plan on doing this now, but circumstances have changed things." I lay my forehead against hers, staring into her gorgeous violet eyes. "I need to know you're mine forever. Will you marry me, little knockout?"

I'm so caught up in holding her close to me that I don't even realize the door opened behind us. "If you don't take him up on his offer, I will," Ms. Viola cackles behind us, and I glance over my shoulder to see her swinging her hips like she's belly dancing. "They don't call me Va-va-voom-Viola for nothing."

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Viola." Yvette laughs. "But I'm going to have to keep him for myself." She leans up and places a soft kiss on my chin. "I've been yours since the moment we met."

"I figured as much," the elderly woman interrupts, sighing dramatically. "The good ones always get snapped up right away." As I cover Yvette's lips with mine, I hear Ms. Viola shuffling across the floor. "Come on, young man. You can soothe my ruffled feathers."

I hear the bodyguard mutter, "Fucking hell," and I open one eye to watch as Ms. Viola pulls a very panicked-looking Mark out the front door. I'm already calculating the bonus I'm going to have to pay him to make up for this crazy night, but I'll worry about that later.