Page 14 of Tangled Past
Almost.
Near the tree line where Maya had seen the man, something caught his eye. A break in the white. Footprints.
Fresh. Pressed deep, like someone had been standing there for a while shuffling their feet. Watching Maya.
His jaw tightened as he circled the property, every step deliberate. Nothing else appeared out of place. Whoever it was had vanished into the woods, probably soon after Maya made that call. They probably had a car stashed somewhere for a fast getaway.
When he returned to the front of the cottage, he knocked once. “Maya, it’s me.”
She freed the locks and stepped back to let him in. Maya stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She didn’t speak, but the look in her eyes—part relief, part fear—hit him harder than he expected.
“I found a set of footprints near the woods.” Asa closed the door behind him and locked it. “Whoever it was is gone now.”
She nodded, her eyes unfocused.
“You checked all the locks on the windows?”
She nodded again. “Yes, they’re all secure.”
Asa eased closer, his voice low. “You did the right thing by calling me.”
“I didn’t know who else to trust.”
That word hit something raw.Trust. A fragile gift he didn’t take lightly.
He glanced around the room. A small couch near the fireplace. Bookshelves lined with journals. Soft lighting. A haven for someone who’d lived too long in fear. He turned back to her. “Do you remember him?”
Her brow furrowed. “The man who was watching me. I told you I didn’t see his face.”
“Not him.” He exhaled, stepping closer. “My father.”
Her lips parted slightly. Maya swayed as if she’d been struck. “I’m not sure. Until recently, I’d never remembered anything. That changed since you showed up.” She looked up at him. “But it’s only been a few flashes of fragmented memories, and I can’t really grasp onto them … Sometimes I wake up and hear someone—maybe him—yelling.”
“He died protecting you,” Asa said softly. “Protecting both of us.”
Her breath caught.
“I didn’t remember you at first either,” he continued. “Not until I saw your photo.”
“My photo?” Her brows knitted together. “How did you get my photo?”
She didn’t like the idea of having her identity out in public, and he certainly understood. For someone who didn’t remember their past, the enemy could be anyone.
“It was on part of the Hope Island Facebook visitors’ page. Just a single photo captioned at the bistro. I think someone visiting the island took it recently. They didn’t mention your full name—just Maya—but it was enough for me to realize it was you.”
“That scares me.” She looked away, blinking at top speed. “What if that photo brought the killer to me again?”
“Doesn’t matter because I’ll be right here with you, and I’m not going to let him near you again. I can stay tonight or however long you need,” Asa pointed to the living room. “I’ll take the couch. You’ll be safe.”
Maya hesitated, then nodded. “I wish I knew what that felt like.”
His hands circled her shoulders. “You will when this is over. Right now, it’s late. You’ll feel better after you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”
She searched his face, then stepped back. He let her go and watched as she turned and headed down the hallway without saying another word.
Asa waited until she was gone before calling JT and telling him what happened. “Yeah, someone was definitely watching her place. They left tracks. Probably a recon run. She’s safe, though. I’m staying here tonight and escorting her to the bistro in the morning.”
“Good idea,” JT replied. “Be careful. They might come back.”
Tension coiled inside Asa while he ended the call and locked both doors. Killing the lights, he checked outside. Nothing stirred. Still, he couldn’t relax. Asa settled onto the couch without removing his boots or weapon holster. He kept one eye on the curtained window, the other on the hallway that led to Maya’s room. Somewhere in the house, she moved softly—bedroom door locking, blankets shifting on the bed. Eventually, silence settled in, but Asa didn’t sleep.
Too many ghosts. Too many questions.
And for the first time in decades, maybe too much to lose.
