“What do you mean?” I asked, blinking repeatedly. I understood his words, but maybe the events of the day were finally catching up with me because Icouldn’tcomprehend them, no matter how many times I went over them in my head.
Bear’s hand came to rest on my lower back as he spoke soothingly. “We didn’t want to startle you, but there were already cameras in your apartment. Someone was watching you.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know at the moment, but until we do, you’re not leaving this apartment,” Spencer said.
“Excuse me?” I turned to him, pulling out of Bear’s comforting grip. “I can’t stay here. Maybe for a night, but I have classes, tutoring.”
Spencer walked toward me. He towered over me, but I refused to back down.
“For the next week, you aren’t leaving,” he growled, that rich pepper scent only intensifying with his words. “You are going nowhere alone. I don’t know why, Flora Hewitt, butyou’ve burrowed under my skin, and I can’t seem to stop it. So, we are going to keep you safe, whether you like it or not.”
At that, he stormed out of the room, leaving me slack-jawed and utterly shocked by his declaration.
Chapter 23
Flora
“Come on, honeybee,” Chase said, guiding me out of the room. “Let’s get you set up in the guest room. It’s late, and I’m pretty sure Bear and Spencer are about to have words.”
“Chicken,” I muttered. Truth be told, I was probably the bigger coward out of the two of us, but I couldn’t help myself.
“I’ve seen what those two can do; I’m avoiding it at all costs. Even if you’re pissed at me.” Chase chuckled, not at all affected by my cajoling.
I glowered at him as he opened a door. “You're lucky I left my taser in my bag in the car.”
Chase glanced up at the sky with a grin. “Clearly some higher power is watching out for me.”
His cavalier attitude should have pissed me off, but a grin started to tug at the corner of my lips. “You're awfully chipper.”
He shrugged. “Don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely fuming that this sick thug trashed your place, but I'm also glad that you're here. Honestly, I'm just a swirling vortex of emotions.” He sighed wistfully.
“You’re something, all right,” I mumbled.
He ignored me, leading us into the room. “This is our guest room. It’s a little sparse, but these should help liven things up!” he declared, jerking his head at the bags of nesting supplies. “Do you want a hand?”
I shook my head. “No, nesting is very…” I trailed off.
“Personal?”
Nodding, I took in the room. It was shockingly boring. A bed frame. Plain white sheets. A dresser and a walk-in closet. Everything was in muted tones of gray, white, or beige.
“Are you guys allergic to color?” I muttered as I turned to the bags that Chase had placed in the doorway. The bed was depressing. It was large but looked rather uncomfortable. Who on earth only had a single pillow on a bed? Psychopaths, that’s who.
“Not at all. Our rooms have plenty of color. Mine happens to be blue. You’re welcome to visit any time, honeybee. The only time we have guests is when a coworker comes to visit, and let’s just say, none of them have particularly strong opinions when it comes to interior decoration.”
“Well, it’s only temporary,” I noted, more to remind myself than to Chase.
“Even if it’s a little longer than temporary, we can paint it. I’ll have you know, I’m good with a paintbrush. I love doing all the little nooks and crannies!”
Chuckling, I started removing items from the bags. The plastic crinkled as I pulled things out one by one, setting them on the very sad-looking bed.
Everything was high quality and impeccably made. Wool, cashmere, and muslin had me running my hands over them.
“These are too nice,” I said. I made next to nothing; therewas no way I could ever pay them back for such beautiful items.
Chase shrugged. “Mable said they were getting no use, and she was just going to get the guys to take them to the shelter. If you like them, they’re yours.”
