Chapter 39 Retrieved
Timothy
Boarding the jet felt surreal, like my body was moving faster than my mind could keep up with.
I took the seat nearest the aisle and immediately started bouncing my knee, fingers drumming against my thigh in a sharp, erratic rhythm. The cabin lights were too bright. The air felt too thin. Every second stretched, elastic and unbearable, as if time itself had decided to punish me.
Pennsylvania wasn’t far. On any other day, it would’ve been nothing.
Tonight, it felt endless.
I stared straight ahead as the jet taxied, jaw locked so tight it ached. Images kept forcing themselves into my mind of Hannah wandering unfamiliar streets, frightened, drunk, vulnerable. The thought of her alone, without guards, without protection, without me…no. I shut that line of thinking down hard.
This wasn’t about emotion.
This was about responsibility. Control. Damage mitigation.
That was all.
The jet finally lifted, and I exhaled through my nose, slow and controlled, like that would somehow calm the violence in my chest. It didn’t work. My knee kept bouncing.
As soon as we landed, I was on my feet.
“Stay alert,” I told the crew sharply. “I won’t be long.”
A car was already waiting. I slid into the backseat, fingers tightening into fists as the driver pulled away from the hangar. Streetlights streaked past the windows, blurring together.
My phone rang.
Martin.
“We’ve found her,” he said without preamble.
Something in my chest loosened so abruptly it almost hurt. I hadn’t realized how tightly it had been wound.
“Where,” I demanded.
“She’s at the station. Safe. A bit shaken up. Holding a dog.”
A what now? I wasn’t even going to ask.
“I’m on my way,” I said, and ended the call.
The police station came into view minutes later. I was out of the car before it fully stopped, striding through the doors like I owned the place, which, functionally, I did.
My eyes scanned the room instantly.
And there she was.
Hannah sat in a corner chair, shoulders hunched inward, hair disheveled, mascara faintly smudged beneath tired eyes. She cradled a paper cup of coffee in one hand, the other wrapped protectively around something small and curled in her lap.
A puppy.
My chest tightened again, this time sharp and hot.
Anger surged up, fast and uncontrollable.
I crossed the room in long strides. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Her head snapped up, eyes widening when she saw me. “Timothy…”
“Do you have any idea what you put everyone through?” My voice echoed louder than I intended. I didn’t care. “You vanished. No guards. No phone call. Nothing.”
She flinched. The puppy stirred, whining softly.
“I didn’t mean to,” she said quickly. “I saw him..he was injured, and I couldn’t just leave him. He was limping and…”
“You followed a stray dog,” I snapped incredulously. “Alone. At night. Across state lines.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I wasn’t trying to be reckless. I just…he needed help.”
That did it.
The anger flared brighter, fueled now by something uglier. Fear. “You risked your life,” I bit out. “For a fucking dog.”
Her chin wobbled but then she jutted it out. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I did.”
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over despite her obvious effort to hold them back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would go so wrong. I really am.”
The sight hit me harder than anything else had tonight.
I stopped.
The fire in my chest guttered, replaced by a heavy, sinking guilt that settled deep in my bones. I dragged a hand down my face, suddenly exhausted.
“I shouldn’t have yelled,” I said roughly. The words felt foreign. “I was….” My words trailed off.
Her eyes flicked back up to mine, searching.
I looked away first.
I turned to Martin as he approached. “Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I appreciate the quick response.”
“Of course,” he replied. “She’s lucky.”
I nodded once, then placed a guiding hand at Hannah’s back, careful not to startle her. “Let’s go.”
She stood slowly, clutching the puppy tighter as we exited the station. The car ride was silent, thick with tension. My knee resumed its restless bounce as I stared out the window, breathing through my nose, forcing my emotions back under control.
She shifted beside me. “Timothy, I…”
“Not now,” I cut in, not looking at her.
She fell silent.
At the hangar, we boarded the jet again. Someone handed her a blanket, then another, along with a warm drink and packaged snacks. She murmured her thanks, immediately breaking a cracker in half to share with the puppy.
I watched from across the cabin.
I told myself I wasn’t.
The jet lifted off, and fatigue crept in like a slow tide. Hannah looked just as drained, eyelids drooping as she stroked the dog’s ears absently. There was something unbearably soft about the way she held it, like the world had narrowed to that one small, breathing thing in her arms.
We landed back home in the early hours of the morning.
The drive was quieter than before. When we stepped into the house, Lisa appeared instantly, eyes widening at the sight of Hannah.
“Get her food,” I instructed briskly. “Something warm. And something for the dog too. Immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
I turned to Hannah. “Hand the puppy over to staff. He needs to be cleaned and checked.”
She hesitated, arms tightening protectively. “Do they have to take him?”
“Yes,” I said firmly, though I softened my tone a fraction. “He’ll be brought back.”
Reluctantly, she surrendered the dog, watching anxiously as staff carried it away.
“Go shower, eat and sleep,” I continued. “You’re exhausted.”
She nodded and turned toward the stairs.
“Hannah.”
She stopped.
I exhaled slowly, words coming out halting, unpolished. “When they couldn’t find you… it was a scare. You need to be more careful next time.”
She turned, studying my face. Then, faintly, she smiled. “Were you worried?”
I met her gaze squarely. “Yes. I was.”
The smile slipped from her face, replaced by something unreadable. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
I nodded once. “Goodnight.”
I walked away before she could say anything else, acutely aware of her eyes on my back.