He runs a hand down his face, looking more tired than I’ve seen him in years.
Yeah. Whatever’s being said on the other end isn’t good.
I glance back down at Noelle again, watching the faint rise and fall of her chest. She’s still trembling slightly, tiny, involuntary shivers that have nothing to do with the cold, but at least she’s finally relaxing.
I smooth my hand along her shoulder, slow and steady like grounding a skittish horse.
“You’re okay now,” I murmur quietly, leaning close so she can hear me even if she’s half-asleep. “He’s gone. We’ve got you and Eli. You’re both safe.”
For a moment, she doesn’t respond.
Her breathing stays uneven, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as though she’s still caught somewhere between now and the memory ofhim.
Then, finally, she exhales a long, tired sound.
Her muscles go slack, the tension draining out of her all at once.
It takes only a few more minutes before sleep finds her completely. Her head tilts against my arm, her mouth parting just slightly, breaths slow and even.
I sit there for a while longer, staring down at her.
There’s a quiet kind of strength to her even now.
This fragile, exhausted woman who’s somehow been holding up an entire world on her own shoulders is still trying to make things work.
Every time I think I understand her, something like this happens and reminds me just how much I don’t really know.
Gently, I slide my arm out from under her and ease her down until she’s lying flat on the couch.
She doesn’t stir, just curls instinctively toward the warmth of the blanket when I drape it over her.
I linger there for a second longer, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead before stepping away.
The mini fridge hums softly when I open it.
I grab a bottle of water and twist the cap off, glancing toward Dean as I do. His voice is low and tense, each word clipped.
Richard’s voice spills through the speaker, sharp enough to make out from where I am. “—fucking bastard’s been coming around for months after they broke up.
Had to chase him off with my damn shotgun more than once.”
“Jesus,” he mutters back.
My stomach turns at the image Richard’s words paint: Jared showing up over and over again to their house, stalking her wherever she and Eli went, threatening her, forcing her to live like she’s always waiting for the next shoe to drop.
No wonder she looked terrified when he appeared tonight.
No wonder she shut down the second he left.
I set the bottle down on the counter and scrub a hand over my face, trying to swallow the anger rising in my throat.
The thought of Jared cornering her and scaring her while Eli was around makes my skin crawl.
But not from fear. It’s a righteous sort of anger that simmers low in my gut, crawling under my skin until my own shiver races up my spine.
I’ve never seen a man look that deranged before, let alone in front of a woman he once had an intimate relationship with.
Dean’s voice cuts through the silence again, softer this time. “Yeah, we’ll keep her here until the coast is clear. Don’t worry. Let us know what happens with the cops and if they manage to get him.” He listens for a moment, nodding even though the man on the other end can’t see him. “Alright. Yeah. I’ll tell her. Try to get some sleep yourself, alright?”
