Still, he doesn’t move.
“Can I touch you?”he asks, and I suck in a breath.I didn’t expect the respectful question, and it is everything.In this moment, in this familiar room, we’ve rewound to the time when we were just two scene partners on the brink of something exciting, something necessary.Carefully negotiating so we didn’t harm the fragile connection growing between us.
“Yes,” I whisper and let him envelop me in a hug.I tuck my head against his chest.
“Are you okay?You didn’t get hurt, did you?”His hands roam over me.He puts some distance between us only to check for wounds, for blood.
“I’m okay.No one touched me.I opened the door and just couldn’t...I got overwhelmed.”
His lips press together.I can sense his latent anger, like an atomic bomb ready to be unleashed.But I know it’s directed at the killer, not me.
“I’m okay,” I repeat and lean in to hug him again.This time, his arms come around me slowly, almost reluctantly.He cradles the back of my head.
“You scared me.”
I can hear the fear of a lost little boy in his voice, and it melts me.But we both scared each other.“You locked me up.I had to escape.”
“What possessed you to go to the townhouse?”
“I wanted to check on it.If the killer dropped the letters there...” I thought I’d get a psychic impression, and I did.I just didn’t expect it to be so overwhelming.“He’s fixated on me.There was a bird feeder, and I used to like watching the birds.He must have poisoned them all and put them in the house—” I’m shaking, babbling, letting all the poisonous fear leach from me.
Rex murmurs soothing things and guides me to the couch.He’s still holding me, but he’s not threatening to lock me up, so that’s a win.Maybe I look too fragile right now.
I feel fragile.I’ve made a habit of falling apart in Rex’s arms.A day ago, he pleaded with me to let him be my safe place to land.I denied him at the time, but the truth is, he was already my safe place.
“Do you want this?”He shifts so he can pick up my mug.
I close my hands around it, cradling it like he cradles me.
“I didn’t know you drank tea.”
“I don’t.”I wrinkle my nose.“But I couldn’t get warm.”
He strokes my face.“St.James said you were shaking.”
I let my thoughts turn to the moments after I opened my townhouse door—the overwhelming darkness, like an oil slick coating my senses.“I could feel him...his energy.His sick interest turning into hatred.”My stomach turns, but talking this out is helping.And Rex is the only one I feel safe enough to share this with.“He wants to be with me, but more than that, he wants to control me.”
I stare at Rex, realizing I could say the same about him.The difference is that I’ve always felt safe with Rex.Even after he locked me in a cage, I slept in his arms.
I’m more afraid of the intense swell of emotions I feel when I’m around him than I am of him.I’ve tried to avoid feeling anything for anyone.Then Rex burst into my world and made me feel everything.Of course it’s frightening.It’s new.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“It’s not your fault.”But I can tell he’s taking the blame.
“I failed to keep you safe.”
I hand him my tea so he can set it down, then cup his face between my mug-warmed palms.“You can’t shield me from everything.”
The sculpted planes of his face harden underneath my hands.“I’ve sent a team to lock down the townhouse.They’ll analyze the scene, dust for prints, and clean it up.”
I drop my hands and sag into him, feeling even more relief.On the long car ride from Roy Manor to the city, I allowed myself to wonder what it would be like to work with him to solve the case.To use his lab, his tech, his unlimited resources.I bet he’s already surveilling half the city.
“They’ll need to send anything they find to the department,” I say.
He hesitates, probably thinking about how that will put me in the middle of a murder case.Again.But he says, “Of course.It’s your choice.”
I lift my head.“Really?”I never thought I’d hear him say that, not after everything he did to stop me from leaving his house.
