"No problem," is what I manage to choke out.
Once she's situated in my passenger seat, she exhales, long and loud.
"Do you think it was him?" I ask. She nibbles the side of her thumb, looking at the inn through her window.
"He's given me the creeps since I met him." She shrugs. "But I suppose there isn't a way to know for sure. I'm not sure if they have cameras, and if they do that would require reviewing footage. To do that we would need?—"
"The police," I finish. "Do you want to involve them?"
She's quiet for a moment, thinking. "No. I don't want to draw attention to myself. I want to lie low."
I disagree, but I know better than to push. I've learned Mallory has a reason for doing things.
She sighs. "I guess I'll need to see if the spa hotel has a vacancy."
I turn right off the street where the inn sits, winding my way through town. I don't know if I've ever seen it like this, so sleepy and dark. Even my latest nights leaving King's Ransom were never this late. And my earliest mornings making my way to Canyon Lake to go fishing with Penn are never this early.
"What if you don't check in at the Sagewood hotel?"
Mallory chuckles, but it sounds more confused than actual laughter. "Ok, sure. I'll just break into a store and find a camping cot to sleep on."
An idea plays at my mind. Driven purely by a burning need to protect Mallory, I'd acted.
There was no consideration as to what would happen after I arrived.
I pass Sagewood. Mallory says nothing.
I pass the edge of Olive Township, where the commercial district ends. Mallory says nothing.
Now I'm on the road that skirts the town, delivering me to the road leading out to Summerhill.
"Hugo."
What is it I hear in her voice? Awareness. Exhaustion. Relief. Gratitude. "Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere I can keep you and your baby safe."
"Home with you?"
A hot and heady mix of protectiveness and possessiveness grips me. After what happened, I can't imagine her being anywhere else. "You're coming home with me."
Mallory melts into the seat. Her face loses the look of worry. "You know what this means?"
The exhaustion in her voice mixes with a sliver of mischief. "What's that?"
"Your car is definitely not the Ciao Chariot anymore. It's the..." Her eyes squint. "Home Hooptie."
What am I doing laughing right now? The clock is well on its way to nearing five a.m. and someone I care about had their privacy violated and safety threatened. Mallory could be in tears right now. I could be raging. But I'm...smiling?
I scoff. "You called my precious lady ahooptie?"
Mallory's head lolls my direction as I follow the road leading up and around the big house. A tired grin pulls up one side of her mouth. "Good thing I didn't call her ajalopy. I couldn't come up with a correspondingjword fast enough."
"Good to know your talent with alliteration has its limits."
Mallory yawns. "Try me again when I've had sleep."
We arrive at my house and I usher her inside. "There's a guest room down the hall from my bedroom. It has its own bathroom." I lead the way, setting her things down on the ivory crushed velvet bedspread. "I'm sure you're tired. Please make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa."
