“Is everything okay?” If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was preparing me for the end of this—whatever this is.
A little smile appears on his full lips. “Yep. Just got some work shit on my mind.”
When we reach my door, I jerk to a stop. The door is ajar. “Um, I, um….”
“Did you lock your door yesterday?” he asks curtly. “The lock doesn’t appear to have been forced.”
“Of course. I always lock it. But I was running late. Maybe I forgot?” It’s entirely possible. My head’s been up in the clouds lately.
“Let me go in first.” I watch as he pulls a gun out from somewhere. I didn’t even see a holster or anything. He pushes the door the rest of the way open slowly and silently. “Stay here,” he whispers. I nod. He moves quietly onto the stairs and steps down one at a time. I know those steps squeak, but he’s able to get down without a sound. He ducks his head, avoiding the ductwork right above the door, which has never bothered me since I’m so short. When he disappears into my place, I wait. I bite my nails and make all sorts of promises to the big man upstairs—no, not Dale—to make sure Sam’s safe.
I waited for what seems like an hour but was probably only a few moments until I finally see Sam reappear at the bottom of the steps. “You can come down now.”
I move in quickly and throw my arms around his waist. “I was so scared you were going to get hurt,” I mumble into his jacket.
Sam chuckles. “You were worried about me, little one?”
I nod into his cool jacket.
He leans down and kisses my nose. “Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t remember the last time someone was worried about me.” He stands up again all business now. “It doesn’t look like anyone was in here. From what I remember from the other night, nothing seems to be gone, but you’ll want to look around to see.”
I walk into my place and scan the room. Everything appears to be as I left it. “It’s strange. I’ve never left my home unlocked before. My Po— Er, I was always taught to lock up.” I nearly mentioned Pops again. I don’t know why I can’t talk about him to Sam yet. Something is holding me back. Maybe I just don’t want to shift things in that direction. I mean, what are we doing here? Is this a thing? I definitely don’t want him feeling sorry for me, and I’m not ready to cry in front of him.
“Thanks for bringing me home, Sam. And, thanks for checking out my place for me. I feel safer when you’re with me,” I smile up at him. He leans down and gives me a slow, sweet kiss.
“My pleasure.” He hesitates a moment then says, “You need better locks, doll.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“No ‘maybe’ about it.”
My gosh that man is bossy. I feel my internal eyeroll. Instead of showing him, I smile. “I’ll look into it. Okay?”
“Sure. Yeah.” He smiles down at me. “I’d better go. Call you later, babe. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I watch him walk up the steps, and before he shuts the door, he says, “Lock this after I leave.”
I give him a salute and follow him up the steps. I slide the door shut and then give it a final push to close it. I flip the lock and shout through the door. “It’s locked.”
“Good. Call you later.” And then he’s off.
The first thing I do is shower. I’m a little disgusting, actually. I’ve never had that much sex before—especially in one night. I smile, thinking about the soreness in my legs and arms. He was so good at it—sex. I think he may have ruined me. No man is going to be able to stand up to that litmus test.
I remove my dress and reach to grab my towel and robe from the hook in my tiny bedroom, but my robe isn’t there. “Weird.” I look around my little bedroom and then the bathroom. “Double weird.” My robe is lying at the bottom of my shower. “I was in a hurry yesterday. Maybe I just flung the thing off. I shrug and pull the robe out of my tiny shower. It’s dripping wet. “Did I shower in this thing?” I look around the small room trying to recall. Honestly, I can’t remember anything about yesterday morning. It’s not like me to just throw my robe in the shower…. I drag the robe over to the hamper and toss it inside. “Gotta go to theLaundromat today. I’m way behind.” Plus, I need to stop talking to myself. I sound like a crazy person. I chuckle aloud. Yep, crazy. I’ll chalk it up to exhaustion. Maybe I should take a nap after my shower. Then I’ll be rejuvenated so I can get more work done later.
I hop into my tiny shower, praying for warm water, and quickly soap up and wash my hair. It only takes a few minutes for the water turn from warm to ice cold. Shivering, I step out and grab my towel. I try to pull it open to wrap around myself, but it seems to be snagged. I pull at it, and it finally pulls apart. It was stuck together. “Ooh, gross. I really need to do laundry. What did I get on this towel?” This is freaking me out a little. I toss it over in the direction of the hamper and walk naked to my little hall closet that’s built into the wall. I yank out a new towel and wrap it around me.
“I’ve definitely let my chores go since I met Sam.” I’ll get caught up today.
I make my way into my bedroom and plop down onto my bed. “Ouch!” Something just dug into my back. I sit up quickly and look behind me. Nothing. I pull the quilt back and stare. “What the ever-loving fuck?” I peer down at my mattress at the large knife that’s pierced through my sheets down into the bed itself. The handle is sticking out about four inches. That’s what I jammed my back into. Shit, what if that thing had been blade up?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ANAL-RETENTIVE PERVERT
It hits me.“Someone was in my house.” My door was open, and someone was in my house. I quickly think about my robe, the towel, and now this? My first instinct is to call Sam, but I can’t. We’ve only actually known each other a week or two. This isn’t his problem. I run out to find my purse and pull out my phone. I wait as it rings several times, praying she picks up.
