Never Giving Up (Never #3)

“I want to run.”


Her words were like boulders settling in my stomach. Her flight instinct had kicked in. The danger was here so her mind told her to leave. I rubbed my thumbs across her cheeks.

“I know you do,” I whispered. “I want so badly to make this go away for you, but we’ve got to stay. We’ve got to fight. I won’t let him near you.”

A new wave of panic flooded her eyes. “What if he gets to you first? Oh God. Porter, I can’t lose you. Please . . .”

“Shh . . .” I pulled her back into my shoulder and smoothed down her hair. “It’ll all be ok.” I knew I couldn’t promise her that, but it was all I could say in the moment. Dillard came back in the room and his eyes flickered to my wife crying into my neck. “You better find this guy, and fast. If I find him first I can guarantee you never will.”

Dillard nodded. “I’d be thinking the same thing if it were my wife.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

“The Salem PD are going to be making rounds past your house and for the next few nights a cruiser will be positioned on your block just until the dust settles.”

“Thank you,” I said, sincerely.

“Do you have a license to carry a concealed weapon?”

“Yes. We got one last year after her abduction.”

“Good. Remember, if someone comes into your home, you have every legal right to shoot them. No questions asked. Take them out.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Detective.”

“Ok. Well, I will keep you updated on our progress. This case is my first priority. If he’s in the state, I will find him.”

I believed him. I gently stood, trying not to jostle Ella too much. I shook his hand. “I appreciate it.” I led Ella out to our car, flanked by two uniformed officers. They made sure we got into the car safely and I watched them disappear in the rear-view mirror as I drove away. Merging onto the freeway, my hand found Ella’s knee.

“How are you holding up?” I asked softly.

“I just want to go to sleep.”

I nodded, understanding she was tired, exhausted—both physically and emotionally. “I need you to promise me something, Ella.” Her head turned and she looked at me, eyes half closed, near sleep already.

“Hmmm?”

“If you’re going to run, you have to take me with you.” I looked her in her hooded eyes, trying to be very clear, to make sure she understood me. “I want to stay here and see this guy captured, but if you’re going to run, we run together.”

“You’re not safe with me,” she whispered.

“I’m dead without you.” She took in a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Please, I need to hear you say it.”

“If I feel the need to leave, I promise I’ll tell you. I won’t leave you behind.”

“Promise me you won’t give up the fight, Ella.”

“That’s just it, Porter; I’m not sure how much fight I have left in me.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence, my hand wrapped around hers. When we pulled up onto our street, I spotted the cruiser a few houses down. I could see the outline of two officers in the car and admittedly was a little relieved to see them. I just hoped Ella would sleep better knowing they were out there.

We entered the house and Ella readied herself for bed, not saying one word. She was silent again and I felt myself settling into the same panic she often found herself in. I couldn’t lose her.

That night, when I was finally sure she’d drifted off, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pushed my body close up to hers, wanting to follow her into sleep with her body safely pressed against mine.





It’s amazing how a person can become accustomed to living in fear. The fear becomes normalized, something akin to the everyday. It was now normal to have a bodyguard in Dahlia with me every day. To see a police car drive by my house was relieving and to get a nod from the officers inside the car was calming.

Weeks passed and it didn’t seem as if we were any closer to finding the man who shot me as we had been before we knew his identity.

Jason Ramie.

Anie Michaels's books