The headlights sweep across the front of the cabin, lighting up the stone façade before I kill the engine. Silence drops heavy between us. There’s only the ticking of the cooling engine and her uneven breathing. She hasn’t moved. I don’t, either.
“Char,” I say softly. “Come inside. The guest room’s yours. Or go back to my room, and I’ll take the couch. Whatever makes you feel safe.”
Her eyes stay fixed on the windshield. “Safe,” she repeats under her breath. “I don’t even know what that feels like anymore.”
The admission makes my blood boil. I want to find out who hurt her. Who’s still making her feel this way and take care of them once and for all. Instead, I try to remain calm. Swallowing hard, I plead, “Then start here.” That at least gets her to look at me. Although I can’t read her expression.
Is it disgustor defeat?
“I’ll drive you to Matt and Ellie’s first thing,” I reiterate, voice low,steady. “I understand if you’re mad, but I honestly wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
Her chin lifts. “You still did.”
“I know.”
We sit in the dark, speechless for a few moments. She finally exhales, reaching for the door handle. “I’m too tired to fight.” When she climbs out of my truck, I do too, careful not to move too close. We walk side by side toward the door, the cold biting through the silence.
At the threshold, she pauses. I open the door, gesture her in, but she lingers on the edge. Then she steps past me, into the warmth, and I feel something uncoil in my chest. It’s not forgiveness. But at least she’s still here.
For now.
Later, after staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, I get up for some water when I find her wrapped in a blanket on the couch, staring into the fire like she’s a thousand miles away. She looks small, fragile in a way I’ve not seen with her before. She’s usually larger than life.
I hover in the doorway. “Sorry,” I say quietly. “Didn’t mean to intrude. I just wanted a glass of water.”
“You’re not intruding,” she murmurs without looking up. Are there tears in her eyes? “It’s your house.” I take a step toward her, but I don’t make it far. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower before you drive me to Ellie’s?”
I nod, swallowing the ache in my throat. “Yes. Of course.”
As she disappears down the hall, my head falls forward. My chest feeling as if I’ve been sucker punched. I finally had her here with me. We had the most phenomenal night together.
And somehow, I still managed to lose her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAR
I shrugoff any guilt over hurting Dave as I wordlessly close the car door behind me and make my way to Matt and Ellie’s front porch. I needed to leave. He had absolutely no right to pry into my private life.
Hell, I’ve gone from running from one man to feeling like I’m being hunted by several. Every step I take now feels watched. I want to believe Dave. My guttellsme he was telling the truth. Yet belief is a luxury I can’t afford anymore.
The morning air cuts cold against my cheeks as I walk. The ground is still slick from last night’s frost, the mountains surrounding me are fading into a soft gray mist. The world looks peaceful. Yet I’ve witnessed first-hand how a sated moment of bliss can turn on a dime. That peace can be a lie.
I keep glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting him to run after me.Half-hoping he will. I shove that thought down before it becomes even more tempting. I can’t do that again. I let my guard down with him. Look where that got me.
By the time I reach the front door, my nerves are shot. This sensation only escalates as I reach for the handle and realize it’s unlocked.
Unlocked!
I guess when you live in a small town and there aren’t threats looming in every dark corner, you have no need to double-check your locks. As I close it behind me, flipping the deadbolt, I consider how to ask them to lock up without causing alarm. I shouldn’t have brought my troubles to their doorstep.
“Good morning,” Ellie greets with a knowing smirk.
“Good morning,” I respond flatly, hoping it’ll discourage taking this conversation any further.
“What’s wrong?”
So much for that.
