“I guess I’d better leave then,” I say, standing up.
She gets up, sets her mug aside, and walks me to the door.
When she reaches for the handle, I move closer without thinking. She turns towards me at the same moment I reach for her. We’ve hugged before. It’s always friendly, casual and brief. This one begins the same way, but something shifts as soon as our arms wrap around each other.
She melts into me more than usual, her head resting near my collarbone. Her breath is a faint warmth against my skin. I hold her a little tighter than I mean to, and my palms settle across her back.
We stay that way for a quiet moment, both of us get lost in enjoying the closeness. When she finally steps back, she keeps her eyes lowered for a second, as though she isn’t ready to look directly at me. I try to pretend like it was just another hug.
She opens the door, and chill air drifts in, chasing away the warmth between us. Neither of us mentions the way the hug changed something, but we both feel it. The awareness lingers inmy mind as I step out onto the porch. I’m certain this moment is going to stay with me long after the night ends.
I linger for a few seconds before stepping off the porch, then heading to my truck. I truly didn’t want to walk away from her. The cabin door closes behind me. The soft click is a reminder the moment is over.
At least for now.
Chapter 7
Emily
Everything feels different when I wake up. I can’t remember why, then the events of yesterday suddenly flood my mind. The fear, the certainty that I was about to die. But that’s not what’s affected me. I guess the only thing that has truly changed is me. And all it took was one visit from Onyx.
I’ve always had a bit of a crush on him. But I thought he saw me as a little sister. However, last night… I’m not sure, but I have a feeling that he wanted to kiss me. Even after sleeping on it, I still feel changed. I thought about it all night, wishing I had said yes when he offered to stay.
I’m finishing tidying up the cabin when there’s a knock at the door and I freeze.
A voice calls out, “I have a delivery from Onyx.”
A quick look out the window reveals a young prospect with a box. I don’t know him, but since he’s wearing a Sons of Rage cut, I trust that Onyx sent him. Opening the door, I say, “It’s not my birthday. Any idea why Onyx is sending me a package?”
I swear to God the prospect smirks for a second before remembering he shouldn’t be doing that. He clears his throat and replies respectfully, “Don’t know, ma’am. I’m just the delivery person.”
I take the package from him with a smile. “Thanks for dropping it off. I guess I’ll figure it out by seeing what’s inside.”
He snaps a pic of me holding it and takes off.
When I open it on my dining room table, it turns out to be a brand-new laptop, factory sealed in its own box, along with a new phone. There is a sticky note that says, ‘For work’.And a little x with Onyx’s name below.
I quickly set the phone up, linking it to my old number, and send Onyx a text.
Me: Thanks for fronting me the tech I need to work. I’ll pay you back ASAP.
A few seconds later, I get a text back.
Onyx: You know I’ve always got your back, girl.
My heart squeezes because that’s what he used to call me when we were little. And because it’s good to know he’s on team Emily.
I carefully unpack the laptop and get it set up. After it’s ready, I settle down to work. But, for some reason, I keep catching myself listening for footsteps that never come.
I try to fall back into my routine, but my concentration slips whenever the wind shifts or there’s a noise outside. I read the same email three times before realizing I haven’t absorbed any of it. I keep reminding myself the asshole is sitting in jail. He can’t get to me.
But that doesn’t stop me jumping whenever I hear any unexplained noise.
An unexpected call comes mid-morning, while I’m trying to force myself through a spreadsheet that should have taken ten minutes and is instead taking hours. The number on the screen isn’t one I know, and for a second, I consider letting it roll tovoicemail. I almost set the phone back down, but something in me hesitates. I swipe to answer.
The voice on the other end is polite. The woman introduces herself as someone from the prosecuting attorney’s office. My stomach drops before she finishes the first sentence. She explains that she’s required by California law to notify me that the man who forced his way into my home has been granted bail. I can’t get my head around what she’s saying until I remember Detective Morgan warning me that he might get bail. I’ll admit that I thought he was just covering his bases by telling us that.
The reality is totally different. I’m stunned that asshole was granted bail less than twenty-four hours after breaking into my home and holding me hostage.
