No Strings Attached

Chapter Eight

Alex didn't see Norma for days after that, not even on George's arm in town, which was a relief. The distance was something he needed, especially after having a talk with Bob Paris. Bob's pointed questions had left no doubt that he suspected Alex was closer to Norma than he let on, a weakness he knew Bob wouldn't hesitate to exploit. Which meant the less involved with her he was, the safer she'll be.
He was on his third glass of whiskey, trying to settle the gnawing sense of worry, when he heard a car pull up outside. With the instinctive caution he'd honed over years in law enforcement, he quickly reached for his gun and peered out the window.
His jaw tightened as he saw Norma step out of her car, her figure bathed in the dim glow of his porch light. He sighed, tucking his gun into the back of his pants, before pulling the door open before she could even knock.
They stood in silence, Alex waiting for her to speak, while she gazed at him with a calculated look. Her gaze narrowed before she finally spoke.
"Can I trust you?" she asked, her voice laced with an urgency he hadn't heard before. "I mean like really trust you. You know, sometimes you're Alex, sometimes you're a cop."
Alex fought the urge to roll his eyes, caught between exasperation and a deeper frustration he couldn't name. "I don't know, Norma. I think you can. I'll do my best."
She chewed on her bottom lip, then straightened. "Okay. I have it."
The words hit him with a force, almost physically knocking him back. He stared at her, a mix of disbelief and dread rising. He always suspected she might have the flash drive, but a part of him, a foolish part, desperately hoped she was somehow uninvolved in this mess.
"Get in here." He grabbed her arm, quickly pulling her inside and away from the exposure of the night. As he closed the door, he saw her looking around at his sparsely furnished living room, her eyes flicking over the half-unpacked boxes and empty walls.
"Hand it over," he demanded, standing in front of her with his hand outstretched.
"I don't have it on me," she says, a smirk briefly tugging at her lips. "I'm not stupid enough to carry it around in my pocket."
He let out a sharp breath, feeling both relief and irritation. She continued in a low, urgent tone. "It's a business ledger, returns on some kind of investment. Fifteen million dollars. All the names on it are big, influential people in this town, including Bob Paris."
Alex saw a flash of fear in her eyes which was quickly masked with bravado. He glanced away, grabbing his coat. "We need to go get it. You need to give it to me. Now."
"No," she replied firmly, making him freeze. "That's not why I'm here. Alex, for the first time since I moved to this shitty town, I have some leverage. I'm getting something out of this."
He looked at her in horror, his mind flashing back to Bob's smile when he brought up Norma, when he mentioned how vulnerable she is living all alone in that big house. It made his blood run cold. "Have you lost your mind?"
She shrugged, her expression defiant. "Maybe. It's irrelevant."
He caught a glimpse of the pain hidden behind her defiance, the bitterness of a woman forced to claw her way through life. He knew she was hurting, he'd seen it countless times, but he'd never seen her like this.
"Listen to me. I want you to take me to see Bob Paris. I'm gonna tell him I have it, and I'm gonna ask him for some favors in return."
His mind flashed to the memory of Annika Johnson lying in a pool of blood in front of the motel, only it wasn't Annika, it was Norma. Her bright blue eyes staring blankly at him, the bright red dripping from her beautiful lips.
"Why are you looking at me like that? I've had a good education in this crappy town and I am ready to play ball with the big boys-" she begins, her chin raising in defiance.
"Play ball, they'll kill you!" he tells her, the desperation seeping through his words.
"They can't," she whispered, the same desperation flickering in her gaze. "I have the flash drive, I'm the only one who knows where it is."
He resists the urge to grab her shoulders and shake some sense into her. "Norma think of what the people in this town have done to you-"
"You think I don't know what they've done to me? No one knows better than me. They raped me! They put a dead man's body in my bed. They kidnapped my child and put him in a box in the ground! What else are they gonna do? Kill me?" Her voice trembled but her face remained determined as she stared at him.
His chest tightened painfully. The bitterness in her words cut deep, every memory a reminder of how badly she'd been wronged, how much he couldn't protect her from. He wanted nothing more than to keep her safe, to shield her from everything White Pine Bay threw at her, but he knew better than anyone that the world didn't play fair.
"I'm not going down without a fight," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "And no one's gonna stop me. Not you, not Bob Paris, not all of the scumbag criminals in this town." She turned, ready to storm out, but pivoted back to him, her eyes blazing.
"You know what? If I was a man, one of these douchebags who lives here, you'd say it's totally doable. You're just saying it's a bad idea because you think I can't handle it, because I'm a woman. Because I'm a mother."
The frustration in her voice stabbed at him. He wanted to argue, but the truth of her words silenced him. He had underestimated her resilience far too many times.
"I can. I have seen how it's done and I will handle it without you if I have to," she says, her voice steady, eyes daring him to stand in her way. She turned and tried to open his door, only to find it locked. Her hands fumbled with the handle and many locks on the door, her breath growing ragged as she began to just yank on the handle with frustration.
"Damn it!" she cried, hitting the door with her fists. Her shoulders shook, her hands flying to her face as she let out a muffled sob of anger and frustration.
Alex moved without thinking, crossing the room to pull her to his chest by her arms. To his surprise, she didn't resist or object. Instead, she sank into him, her shaky breath hitting the skin of his neck.
They stood there in silence, the weight of everything unsaid settling around them. His arms held her firmly, protectively, as if his embrace could somehow make up for everything he wasn't able to shield her from. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the depth of his need to protect her, to keep her close, no matter how reckless she insisted on being. For a moment, the world outside his door faded away, leaving only the two of them.
"Okay," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll do it. I'll go with you."
She lifted her head, looking up at him with surprise, her gaze searching his face as if trying to understand him. "You will?" she asked, her voice soft, tinged with hope.
"Yeah," he said, his decision made, though part of him knew this was a bad idea. "I said I'll go, and I'll go."
For a moment, they were still, their faces just inches apart. He could see the spark of determination returning to her eyes, but beneath it, there was something softer, something vulnerable.
Her eyes flickered down to his lips, and he felt the pull between them tighten, a magnetic force that drew him in.
He had come into her life, determined to keep her safe, to watch over her from the shadows, from a distance that was safe for both of them. But in that moment, all he wanted was to hold her close, to protect her from every dark corner in this town. Whatever was coming, he knew he couldn't let her face it alone, not again. Never again.