Tides of Discovery, page 18
Cooper sank into his desk chair, looking stunned. “And you think he’s doing this to get back at you?”
I paced the small space, my frustration building. “I’m almost untouchable, though. My network is like a vault. But…”
“But what?” Cooper prompted when I trailed off.
“When Shaw and I were friends, back when I trusted him, I used to talk about you all the time. I had pictures of you in my office.” The admission felt raw, vulnerable. “He knew how much you meant to me.”
Understanding dawned in Cooper’s eyes, followed quickly by anger. “So he’s trying to hurt me—hurt my business—to hurt you.”
“That’s exactly what he’s doing.” My hands clenched into fists. “He knows the best way to destroy me is to destroy the person I—” I stopped myself before I said too much, but Cooper was looking at me with such intensity that I wondered if he’d heard the word I hadn’t spoken anyway.
“But why now?” Cooper asked. “You said you fired him eighteen months ago.”
“I heard through the grapevine that he was let go from another job recently. Probably blames me for ruining his reputation in the industry.” I stopped pacing and met Cooper’s gaze. “He’s desperate, angry, and he has nothing left to lose. That makes him extremely dangerous.”
Cooper was quiet for a long moment, processing everything I’d told him. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady but strained. “I have to get back out there. Jessica and Marco can’t handle the Friday lunch rush alone.”
“Cooper—”
“Stop him,” Cooper said, standing up. “Find Shaw and stop him before he destroys everything I’ve built.” His gaze softened. “Please.”
“I need to get back to my apartment, access my secure network. It’s going to take time to track him down properly.”
Cooper nodded grimly, his jaw set in determination. “Then go. Do whatever you need to do.” He paused at the door, his fingers on the handle. “You’re the only one who can save my business, Jack. I’m counting on you.”
The weight of his trust settled on my shoulders like a lead blanket. As I watched him walk out to the main shop and slip seamlessly back into his role as the calm, capable owner, I made a silent promise. Shaw had made this personal the moment he’d targeted Cooper. Now I was going to make him regret it.
I sat at the desk in my home office, fingers flying over my keyboard. The ceramic mug beside my monitor held the cold remains of my untouched coffee, a thin film on its surface, the bitter aroma long since faded. A half-eaten sandwich from lunch lay forgotten on a paper plate, its edges curled and stale. Lines of code and network logs filled the screen and swam before my eyes in an endless sea of data, but I barely registered them individually anymore. My mind raced ahead of my fingers. My heart pounded against my ribs in a rhythm that had nothing to do with caffeine and everything to do with the sick certainty building in my gut.
After hours of combing through the traces left by the breach attempt, my eyes burned from staring at the screen. With my muscles stiff from sitting too long in one position, I found it: just a thin thread, nearly invisible among the legitimate traffic, but unmistakably there. I spotted a digital fingerprint that was obviously Shaw’s—signature coding I’d seen countless times during his months as my contractor.
Adrenaline jolted through my system and made my fingers tremble as they hovered over the keyboard. My mouth went dry, and the metallic taste of fear coated my tongue. I didn’t have hard proof yet. No signed confession. But I knew the sloppy way Shaw worked because he thought he was smarter than everyone else.
Cooper. The thought of his vulnerability sent another wave of fear washing through me, cold and paralyzing.
My fingers fumbled on my phone as I pulled up Garrett’s number. The call connected on the second ring, and I was already talking before he could finish his greeting. The words tumbled out in a rush as I filled him in on the cyberattacks and what else I’d found. A location.
“You’re sure?” Garrett’s voice was steady, professional, but I could hear the tension underneath it.
“As sure as I can be without watching him type.” I ran a hand down my face in frustration. “He’s at a motel just outside of town. I pinged a device registered under his name.” I swallowed hard and tried to keep the emotion out of my voice, to sound like the security professional I was supposed to be instead of a man terrified for the man he loved.
Garrett didn’t hesitate, and the decisive jingle of keys in the background told me he was already in motion. “I’m on it. Stay put, Jack. We’ll bring him in for questioning.”
I ended the call and dropped my phone onto the desk with a clatter. I leaned forward and buried my head in my hands. I pressed my fingers into my scalp as if I could physically push away the fear, willing my pulse to slow down, trying to breathe through the vice grip of anxiety squeezing my chest.
Shaw wasn’t just targeting Cooper from some distant city—he was here, in our town. Why? What would require his proximity? Garrett had to find him before Shaw made his next move.
“Stay put,” he’d said. Easier said than done when every cell in my body screamed to move, to act, to find Shaw myself and make sure he could never hurt Cooper or anyone else again.
I retrieved my phone and typed quickly.
Found Shaw at a motel outside of town. Garrett’s heading there now to bring him in.
My finger hovered over the send button for just a moment before I pressed it, knowing this update would both relieve and worry Cooper in equal measure. His response came back almost immediately:
Keep me posted.
I could picture him at the coffee shop, probably cleaning the same surface for the third time, channeling his nervous energy into familiar motions while he waited for news.
The minutes crawled by like hours. I paced my living room in restless loops. The old hardwood floors creaked beneath my weight, the sound amplified in the silent apartment. Each step felt like treading water, getting me nowhere. Every distant car door slamming, every voice carrying up from the street, every creak of the building settling sent electric jolts of anticipation through my nerves. I checked my phone more times than I could count. The screen lit up with each anxious glance, even though I knew Garrett would call the moment he had news.
When my phone finally rang, the sudden vibration against the coffee table made me jerk. I snatched it up so fast I nearly dropped it, my palms sweaty.
“Tell me you got him,” I said without preamble, my voice rough with tension.
Garrett let out a frustrated breath, and my heart sank before he even spoke. “He was there. The motel manager saw him leave about twenty minutes before we arrived. Left in a hurry—didn’t check out, didn’t take anything but his laptop and a backpack.”
“Damn it.” The words felt inadequate for the storm of emotions crashing through me. Disappointment, fear, and rage all swirled together into a nauseating cocktail.
“I’ve issued a BOLO to all units in the area.” Garrett’s voice took on a determined edge. “We’ll find him, Jack. I promise.”
I thanked him and ended the call. My hands shook as I typed a message I didn’t want to send.
Garrett got to the motel, but Shaw was gone. They’re expanding the search.
I stared at the screen for a long moment before hitting send, dreading Cooper’s reaction. His response came back almost instantly, a single word that perfectly captured my own frustration:
Shit.
I could feel the weight of disappointment and fear in that one expletive.
The gnawing tension in my gut only deepened and spread through my body like poison. My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached, but I forced myself to relax.
Hayden had been close. And now he’d vanished again, a ghost slipping through our fingers. If he knew I’d found him, there was no telling what he’d do next. A cornered Shaw was a dangerous man.
The hours crawled by without a word from Garrett. I’d moved from pacing to sitting rigidly on my couch, then back to pacing again. My phone remained stubbornly silent, offering nothing but the slow progression of time on its screen. Each minute that passed felt like another opportunity for Shaw to strike, another moment where Cooper remained vulnerable.
By closing time at The Coffee Cove, the silence had become unbearable. I’d checked my security feeds a dozen times, run diagnostics on my systems, even refreshed my email obsessively as if I’d somehow missed an urgent message. Nothing.
I was still processing the failure when my phone buzzed again. Another message from Cooper, but this one was longer. My heart sank as I read the words that felt like ice water in my veins.
I’ve been thinking. These attacks have made me realize I need to focus on the coffee shop. Let’s go back to being friends. I’m sorry.
The phone slipped from my numb fingers and crashed onto the coffee table. I stared at it as if it were a venomous snake, willing the words to rearrange themselves into something that didn’t feel like my heart being ripped from my chest. Cooper didn’t want me anymore. After everything we’d shared, everything we’d discovered together, he was walking away.
My chest felt hollow, like someone had scooped out everything vital and left only an echoing void. I’d known this was too good to be true. Known that someone like Cooper would eventually realize he didn’t want me.
I stood at my window for I don’t know how long, numbly watching people walk past on the sidewalk, living their normal lives while mine crumbled around me. Part of me wanted to crawl into bed and never come out. But tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. Tomorrow was A Latte Love, the event Cooper and I had been planning for weeks.
I picked up my phone with shaking hands and typed back.
I understand. I’ll still help with A Latte Love tomorrow if you want me to.
No response came.
Shaw might have won after all. He’d found a way to destroy the most important thing in my life from a distance.
But I’d be at The Coffee Cove tomorrow. Cooper might not want me as his boyfriend anymore, but I wouldn’t abandon him when he needed help. Even if it killed me to pretend everything was fine while my world fell apart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cooper
I woke up before my alarm, adrenaline already coursing through my veins. Valentine’s Day. The culmination of weeks of planning, the event that would either put The Coffee Cove firmly back on the map as Seacliff Cove’s premier coffee shop or prove that Shaw had won. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. My mind ran through checklists, contingency plans, and potential disasters.
And it was the day I’d tell Jack I loved him and wanted to continue being his boyfriend past our deadline. Nerves twisted in my gut as I hoped desperately that he felt the same way.
Two hours later, I stood in the middle of The Coffee Cove and took one last look around before opening. Red and pink decorations and fairy lights transformed the normally rustic space into a Valentine’s Day wonderland. Flickering LED tea lights and red carnations graced each table. I’d written the special Valentine’s Day drinks menu on the chalkboard, and stacks of our custom coffee sleeves sat in racks on the pickup counter.
“It looks amazing,” Jack said at my side, but his voice was dull.
I frowned. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. He’d been like this since he arrived this morning, subdued and withdrawn, going through the motions of A Latte Love preparation with all the enthusiasm of someone attending a funeral. There had been no kiss good morning when he walked through the door, no lingering glances across the counter, none of the gentle touches that had become second nature between us over the past few weeks. His responses to my attempts at conversation had been monosyllabic at best, and he looked like he hadn’t slept at all—dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually neat hair was disheveled, like he’d been clutching at it.
“Jack,” I said finally, unable to ignore the knot of worry in my stomach any longer. “Are you okay? You seem…off today.”
He didn’t even look at me. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice flat and emotionless. “Let’s just do this.” The words hit me like a slap, cold and dismissive in a way that was so unlike the Jack I knew. Whatever was wrong, it was bigger than pre-event nerves or lack of sleep. The man standing beside me felt like a stranger wearing Jack’s face, and I had no idea what had happened to change everything between yesterday and today. But I had to put my concerns aside for now. It was time to open.
I checked in with Jessica. She gave me a smile and a double thumbs-up from behind the register. “Ready.”
I flipped the sign to Open, and almost immediately, the first customers arrived: a young couple holding hands, looking around with appreciative smiles.
“Welcome to A Latte Love,” I greeted them, and slipped easily into host mode.
The woman beamed. “We’ve been looking forward to this all week! Those coffee sleeves you’ve been teasing on Instagram sound so cute.”
As I prepared their drinks, Jack randomly selected a sleeve from the rack.
“We’re giving out ten different sayings today,” Jack explained to the delighted couple.
“Can we request specific ones?” the woman asked eagerly.
Jack grinned, coming alive as he interacted with them. “That would ruin the surprise. But feel free to come back and try your luck again.”
By eight-thirty, a steady stream of customers filled the shop, some with coupons in hand. By nine, there was a line out the door. Marco had arrived to help, but even with the four of us, we were constantly in motion.
Jack settled into a rhythm at the pickup counter, adding sleeves to cups with the efficiency of someone who’d been doing it for years, not someone who’d stepped in as a favor to a friend.
Now and then throughout the morning rush, my gaze would find Jack’s, searching for some hint of what was troubling him. But every time our eyes met, his would immediately slide away, as if he couldn’t bear to hold the connection for more than a heartbeat. The distraught expression on his face made my chest tighten with worry. Something was very wrong, and every instinct I had was screaming I needed to get him alone and find out what. But customers kept streaming through the door, orders kept coming, and the Valentine’s Day rush showed no signs of slowing down, leaving me trapped behind the espresso machine while Jack suffered in silence just a few feet away.
The bell chimed, drawing my thoughts away from Jack. Isabelle swept in with the seniors group from the community center. Jack immediately moved to help them find seating. He pulled tables together and charmed the older women with an ease that made several of them blush.
“Cooper!” Isabelle called and made her way to the counter. “This is even better than I imagined. The whole town is talking about it.”
Pride swelled in my chest. “We’ve had a great turnout so far.”
“And those coffee sleeves are brilliant. People are collecting them like trading cards. Kathy Johnson already has six different ones and is trying to convince her husband to come back later for more coffee just to complete her collection.”
I laughed. “Tell her we’ll be doing this all day. She’s got plenty of time to collect all ten.”
Isabelle’s eyes sparkled. “The sayings are so clever. Having Jack in your life sparked your creative side. You two are good for each other.”
The comment shouldn’t have affected me—I’d heard similar sentiments all week. But something about it resonated differently today as I watched Jack hold a chair for Mrs. Abernathy. He was good for me. That much was undeniable.
Was I good for him? Perhaps Jack was seeing that being with me meant being a target, meant dealing with problems that weren’t his to solve. Was he rethinking our entire relationship, wanting to end our boyfriend bargain and retreat to the safety of friendship? Or, worse, was he so tired of the complications I brought into his life that he wanted to end our friendship altogether? The thought made me physically heartsick, a nauseating ache spreading through my gut as I imagined losing not just my boyfriend but my best friend—the person who knew me better than anyone, who’d been the smooth blend to my bitter brew through every crisis.
The question lingered as the morning progressed into the afternoon. Jack never flagged, never complained, and just kept working with a dedication that matched my own. Whenever customers complimented the event, he immediately directed the praise to me, despite how integral he’d been to its creation.
Around one o’clock, as I was restocking the coffee sleeves, the door chimed again. I looked up out of habit. Ryan had just walked in. Lily bounced excitedly beside him. But, unexpectedly, my mother trailed behind with a tight smile. I froze.
“Uncle Cooper!” Lily called and darted through the crowd toward me.
I scooped her up automatically, my eyes still on my mother. I hadn’t seen her since our confrontation two days before. That she was here on our busiest day yet sent a jolt of anxiety through me.
“Look at all the hearts!” Lily exclaimed, oblivious to my tension. “Is Uncle Jack here too?”
“He’s over there helping customers.” I pointed to where Jack explained the Valentine’s specials to a couple of tourists.
Ryan approached, an apology in the depths of his eyes and on his drawn forehead. “Mom insisted on seeing what all the fuss was about. The event is all over the local Facebook groups.”
“It’s fine,” I said, though we both knew it wasn’t. “Nice to see you, Mom.”
She nodded stiffly, and her critical gaze swept the packed shop. “It’s certainly busy.”
“Cooper!” Jack called and weaved through the crowd toward us. “We need more of the…” When he spotted my mother, his expression shifted instantly to cool politeness. “Mrs. McKay.”
