I don’t realize I’m shaking until he’s right in front of me.His eyes scan my face quickly.“You okay?”
I nod automatically.But it’s not convincing.Not even a little.I wrap my arms around myself.Trying to hold it together.Trying not to fall apart.
And then, he steps forward pulling me into him.
Strong.
Solid.
Safe.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs against my hair.“I’ve got you.”
The words break something inside me.My breath hitches.My fingers curl into his shirt without permission.He doesn’t let go.Instead he gently backs me into the house, one arm still around me, his body between me and the open door.
“You’re safe,” he says again.
And for the first time since the doorbell rang, I actually believe it.
EIGHT
MELLOW
The second I get her inside, I kick the door shut behind us.
Not hard.Just enough.
Lucy is still shaking in my arms.Not the loud kind.Not sobbing.Not falling apart.
Worse.
The quiet kind.The kind that tells me she’s hanging on by a thread because she has to.I keep one arm around her shoulders and glance toward the hallway.
“Quinn awake?”
Lucy swallows and shakes her head.“I don’t think so.”Her voice is weak.
I look at the other man standing just outside the doorway.“Stay with him and make sure he gets all the way home with a message.”
He nods once and steps off the stoop toward the road where Roger is groaning and trying to gather his pride off the asphalt.
I turn my attention back to Lucy.
“You want me to check?”
She blinks up at me like the question catches her off guard.“My daughter?”
“Yeah.”A beat passes.Then she nods.
“Please.”
I ease my arm from around her carefully, like I’m afraid if I let go too fast she’ll shatter.Maybe I am.She wraps her robe tighter around herself as I move down the hall, my boots suddenly too loud in a house this quiet.
I slow my steps as I approach the bedroom door.
The whole place smells like clean laundry, shampoo, and something warm from dinner.Home.Real home.The kind that’s lived in and cared for, not just passed through.
I reach the half-open bedroom door and pause.
