CHAPTER 5
Carla
Timothy's apartment feels completely different than mine.Maybe it's because his furniture is nicer.A real couch instead of the secondhand thing I bought off Craigslist.A coffee table that doesn't wobble.Bookshelves lined with paperbacks and what looks like military manuals.
Or maybe it's because it smells like him.That clean, masculine scent that made me dizzy when he kissed me.
I stand in the middle of his living room with my duffel at my feet, feeling like an idiot.
What am I doing here?
I'm a Marine.I survived two tours in Afghanistan.I can field strip an M4 in under a minute.I can hit a target at three hundred yards.I can handle myself in hand-to-hand combat.
And I'm hiding in my neighbor's apartment like some scared little girl.
"You okay?"Timothy asks.
I turn.He's standing by the kitchen counter, watching me with those hazel eyes that see too much.
"Fine," I lie.
"You sure?Because you look like you're about to bolt."
"I'm not going to bolt."
"Good."He moves into the kitchen and opens the fridge."You hungry?I was going to make something."
"You cook?"
"Basic stuff.Nothing fancy.But yeah."He pulls out chicken breasts and vegetables."Spent fifteen years eating MREs.When I got out, I decided I was going to learn how to make real food."
I should offer to help.Should do something other than stand here feeling useless.
But I can't seem to move.
Everything that happened today is catching up to me.Seeing Randall.Hearing his voice.The way he looked at me like I was still his.Like the past eight months didn't matter.Like I didn't have a choice.Me making the decision to pull the trigger and shoot him at point blank range.Ending this once and for all.
And then Timothy stepped between us without hesitation.Without asking.Just deciding I was worth protecting and acting on it.
