Page 10 of Driven By Impulse

Unlike Rose, however, Frankie was going to be okay.

She settled into the chair next to him and leaned forward on her knees. “What do the doctors say?”

They’d called to let her know when Frankie was out of immediate danger, but with Ash and Niccolo’s arrival and the focus on finding Grace before it was too late, she hadn’t been able to track down any more information.

“I’m going to be okay,” Frankie said. “There’s a lot of recovery, I think, but they said I was lucky.”

Hanna released a deep sigh, trying to keep her feelings of panic and anger and relief from showing on her face. “That’s good to hear. You’re going to take as much time as you need to heal.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

Hanna shook her head. “Not any sooner than the doctors say is acceptable. We’ll be fine without you. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Frankie chewed on his lip. “I know why you’re here, Sheriff. Ask what you need to ask.”

“You’re sure?” Hanna tried to keep her voice straight and professional.

“Of course,” Frankie replied. “I know how it goes. And we need to find Grace.”

Hanna pulled her notebook free. “That’s exactly what we’re trying to do. Can you tell me exactly what happened last night?”

“I had just started my shift. Grace… I think she was in the kitchen putting some food together. The house was clear, boss.” He seemed to struggle for a moment. “At least… I think it was clear. No, I definitely cleared it.”

Hanna swallowed and schooled her voice. “I cleared it, Frankie. Before you arrived.”

Relief crossed his face. “Right. That makes sense. I…forgot.”

Hanna gave a sharp nod. “Not to worry. What happened next?”

“It was so fast…” His words caught in his throat. “Everything was fine and then…all of a sudden I heard the door bust open and the sound of shouting and bootsteps.”

Hanna made the mental note to ask Ash’s friend Jinx to look into the security system at the safe house. Her deputy should have gotten more than a fair warning before the door was broken in.

Not if someone turned it off.

The very idea that she had someone in her department going out of their way to put Grace in danger made Hanna half-feral. Her heart was beating too fast in her chest, and she felt the sudden, vicious urge to tear at someone’s throat with her teeth.

But she didn’t have the luxury of losing her shit. Not when Frankie was medicated to hell and back and she didn’t know who else in her department she could trust.

“You can trust us, Han. I promise.”

Ash’s words from the night before rattled around her brain, not quite falling into place. She had called him, practically begged him for help, and he’d spent half the night riding to get to her, bringing his team with him.

And yet, when she’d woken up with his hand in her hair and that familiar scent of him invading her space, she’d lost her shit. There had been more than one time in Hanna’s life where she would have wanted to press a knife to Ash Rhodes’ throat, but it hadn’t been anger driving her then, not even fear, not once she had realized who was waking her up on the couch.

It had been more brittle than that, breakable, like the corners of a window ledge crumbling under the weight of her feet, tiny shards of concrete falling to the ground below.

And still, Hanna couldn’t bring herself to step back from the edge.

“Sheriff?” Frankie’s voice cut through her darkening thoughts. “I think I just remembered something.”

Hanna forced her attention back to her deputy, trying to forget how Ash’s strong body had felt pressed against hers, how much bigger he was now than he had been back then, how he’d reached for her hand under the table when it was clear to everyone that she was struggling to keep herself together.

“Tell me, Frankie.”

“There were four men,” he muttered, his voice a little distant, as if remembering. “Two of them went after Grace first. The third…he came for me.”

Hanna flipped to a new page in her notebook. “Where were you?”