“It is, but they’ve never failed me,” he says confidently.
Arson is already curling up on the couch, flopping down with a low groan. “He acts as if he just worked an eight-hour shift with three foot chases,” Thomas says, gesturing toward his dog.
“Oh, to live the life of a dog,” I say with a smile. The exhaustion is hitting me again, and even though we got a good amount of sleep between yesterday and today, sometimes when things are extra emotional, it makes me need the sleep.
“I’m beat,” Thomas says.
“Me too.”
“Come on, let's get some rest.”
I finish filling my water and follow him toward the stairs. When Arson sees where we are going, he jumps off the couch and bounds upstairs. I can hear the soft thud as he hops onto the bed. Thomas chuckles, and lets me start heading up the steps first. He follows close behind me, resting his palm on my right hip. His simple touches are so sweet, and it’s helping me to realize how serious he is about all this, about me. It’s reassuring.
Arson is curled up smack dab in the middle of the bed waiting for us. I grab a change of clothes, knowing I won’t be able to sleep in jean shorts. I run back downstairs to change and use the restroom, and by the time I make it back, Thomas is shirtless in bed. I can’t see what he’s wearing for bottoms, but seeing him shirtless sends a shiver through my body.
Now isnotthe time to get turned on. As much as my body may want and crave him, my mind is not ready yet.
I round to the other side of the bed and pull back the sheets, this time remembering to grab my pillow from home from my suitcase and throw it onto the bed. Thomas turns onto his side, so he’s facing the middle of the bed. Itentatively crawl into the bed, and Arson shifts so he’s not in my space.
I move to lie on my left side and face Thomas. He reaches out, cupping my cheek again before leaning toward me. He takes my lips in a swift, sweet kiss, like we’ve been doing this for years. It’s comfortable, safe.
“I make no promises that I won’t end up cuddling you in my sleep now that I’m not sleeping like the dead, so it’s your last chance to make me take the couch,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over my skin.
I shake my head. “No. I want you here.”
“Then here I’ll stay,” he says, that familiar smile crossing his lips.
My eyes grow heavy almost immediately, and thankfully, sleep takes me fast.
24
THOMAS
Hannah is still fast asleep when I wake up, so I crawl out of bed as silently as I can. I try to get Arson to come with me, but of course, he wants nothing to do with me. He curls up closer to her, leaving me in the dust.
I head downstairs, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry and sliding my shoes on before heading outside. My watch tells me it’s past four o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun beats down on the pond in the distance. It’s probably a good thing I woke up when I did, because I want to get back on a normal sleep schedule as soon as possible. Even though I switch between working night shift and day shift often, it doesn’t make switching back and forth easier by any means.
I make my way over to the swings hanging from the trees, and sit carefully on one, slowly swinging back and forth.
I haven’t really taken the time myself to process this. It feels like I’ve been running for the last two days, my body functioning on pure adrenaline only, and now that we’re in the safe house, I can let myself feel the weight of this situation. Worry eats at me as I think of Henry. Did he make itout of surgery? What is his healing process going to be? So many unanswered questions settle in my gut.
The case that I’ve spent so much time and emotional effort on is now in the hands of others, and I don’t know how to reconcile it. I know that for my safety it’s best that I’m here, but it is hard being so far away when I’ve put so much work into the case.
I feel useless here, knowing that back home the department is down two people in the middle of an active investigation that just took a turn. Henry was spearheading the investigation into finding the head of the trafficking circle, and now they have a name and potentially even more after Henry was shot by one of Chaz’s lackeys.
What if someone else is on their “list”? Or, with me being gone, will they replace me with someone else to kill?
Not only am I worried about my fellow co-workers, but I’m also petrified for my family. Having no contact with them is brutal, especially with Josie being due with the baby in the next few weeks. I played it off earlier, but I fucking miss my family already, and it hasn’t even been two days. What if something happens to Gramps when I’m gone? Will they try to contact me?
God, this sucks. It’s selfish of me, I know it is, but I’m so thankful that I have Hannah with me. At least I know that she is safe and healthy. That’s one person I would have worried most about, especially with her being a prime witness to the shooting.
A dragonfly appears in my line of vision, circling for a moment before landing on my shoe. Some small memory tugs at the back of my mind, perhaps something from my childhood at the sight of this dragonfly. Its blue, almost holographic coloring shines in the sunlight.
I shift my foot so I can get a better look at it. I moveslowly, hoping I don’t scare it off, and thankfully, it stays put. When I get a look at it from a different angle, the niggling memory hits me right in the face.
Grandma Irene loved finding the symbolism in little things, and she scattered these things through the home she and Gramps shared. Butterfly figurines, sunflowers when they were in season, and bouquets of a variety of flowers in the vase on the kitchen table, each with a different meaning, which she always made sure to explain to us.
She passed away back when I was in my early twenties, but I remember so many details of her that I’m surprised it didn’t hit me right away. The dragonfly stays put on the toe of my shoe, and maybe it’s stupid, but I feel like this dragonfly is trying to show me something, tell me something.
