“I want to go in first. Just to check everything.”
She hesitates. I can see the war behind her eyes. Pride and fear. Independence and exhaustion with this whole situation.
“Five minutes, Sofia.”
“That’s fine.”
I take one key from her without brushing her fingers more than necessary. The lock turns smooth and new. I push the door open and step inside ahead of her. Same small living room. Same secondhand couch. Same tiny TV.
The new metal reinforcement plate along the jamb glints in the light from the window. The new chain lock dangles sharply against the old door. If I had more time, I’d have added a steel door instead. Then again, if I really had my way, she wouldn’t be here at all.
I do a quick sweep. Kitchen. Bathroom. Bedroom. Closet. Under the bed. Just in case he’s stupid enough to think he can hide and wait. He’s not here.
My shoulders drop a fraction. I didn’t realize how tight they were until they hurt.
“It’s clear,” I shout. “You’re good.”
She steps in slowly, like the floor might give way. Paco wriggles in her arms, already recognizing the place, yapping once as if to say he’s home. I hate it.
Her eyes move over everything. She notices the new strike plate. The sturdier screws. The way the door closes more snugly now when I test it.
“It feels. . . different.”
“Safer.”
Or as safe as you can make a place that has seen better days, like years ago.
“Hopefully.” She brushes her fingers over the edge of the door.
I don’t say what I want to say. That if I ever see her ex in this building, I’ll bury him. That I’ve already looked up his photo again, memorized it, just in case. That there are cameras at my place, guards, and locks that would keep her safer than this whole complex combined.
Space.
Give her space.
“I’ll, uh, put this down.”
I lift her bag slightly. She nods toward the bedroom.
“On the bed is fine. His things are in the corner by the window.”
Her voice is already going distant again. Professional and nurse mode. I hate that this is where we are back to. To quote my brother, it sucks.
I set the duffel on her bed, drop Paco’s little nest where she instructs. The room smells like her. Papaya lotion and clean laundry. It makes my body ache at the loss of her already.
Less than an hour ago, I was pushing into her on my counter. She was screaming in pleasure. Em immediately followed with his own way of fucking, and she taunted him for it. Made him come harder than I’ve seen in the last several women.
Now I’m setting her bag down like a polite Uber Black driver dropping off a passenger.
I head back to the front room. She’s standing in the middle of it. Paco’s sniffing his way around like he’s checking for intruders. She’s turning in a slow circle, looking at her things like she’s not sure she wants them anymore. Like maybe he tainted them all.
“Thank you,” she finally says, and I have no clue which part. For the best twenty-four hours of my life? “For . . . for calling your guy. For paying him. I’ll pay you back when I can.”
“You won’t,” I say automatically.
Her gaze sharpens. “Massi?—”
“I’m not taking your money, Sofia. You already told me that you send money home to your family. I’m not snatching it away from them. It’s not right. Just let me take care of this. It’s nothing really, just a few hundred bucks is all.”
