“It’s quiet.”
Now I was just confused.
“What?”
Trooper made a vague gesture as he rose to his feet, cupping my elbow and pulling me closer.
“This guy—Ritter. He’s subtle, like a shark moving under the waves. And I don’t like it. If he would just come out, guns blazing or throwing punches or swinging a knife around, I would know how to handle it. But this—”
“This is freaking you out,” I said as understanding dawned on me.
Trooper was scared.
That made my breath catch in my throat. I’d never seen him scared before. A muscle flexed in his jaw. My fingers itched to reach up and take his sunglasses off, to look him in the eyes.
“Let’s just lay low for a few days,” Trooper said. “Hotline can survive without you for that long, right?”
My knee-jerk instinct was to fight it. I couldn’t put my life on hold every time someone made me uneasy. The whole point of moving out of Lila’s apartment was to get back to my normal routine.
“I’ll call my staff and let them know they need to hold down the fort,” I replied. “But I bet you’re going to be bouncing off the walls before twenty-four hours is up.”
Trooper scoffed, guiding me to the front door. My stomach somersaulted as he rested the warm weight of his palm on my lower back.
“Me? You’re the workaholic. I can kick back with a pack of beer, a few pizzas, and binge watch sports all weekend.”
I made a noise of disgust.
“Not on my television. That’s reserved strictly for my extensive cheesy monster movie collection.”
He laughed.
“Fine. No sports. Can we still get pizza?”
“With black olives? Sure. I know you hate them.”
“They’re disgusting,” he said.
“You meandelicious.”
He huffed and shook his head, giving me a playful shove inside. This was a hint of the normalcy I craved—our usual banter and teasing, volleyed back and forth. I wasn’t thrilled about being cooped up indoors, and I imagined we would both go stir crazy before long. But secretly, I was grateful that Trooper was here to put a smile on my face when I needed it the most.
Hours later, Trooper and I were yawning and struggling to stay awake for our fourth monster flick in a row. The coffee table was littered with food—popcorn and jelly beans, carrot sticks and partially eaten pizza crusts.
“I can’t keep my eyes open,” I mumbled, dragging myself off the couch.
“Hey,” Trooper protested, groggy. “You can’t leave. The credits haven’t rolled yet.”
“I’ve seen it six times already. I know how it ends.”
“Do you need me to check under your bed for monsters?” Trooper called after me.
I shot him a disapproving look over my shoulder.
“Do you really think I’m not tough enough to handle a monster on my own?”
Trooper’s expression softened. His gaze slowly drifted over me, before he shook his head.
“That’s not the point.”
