"Me too." She set it carefully in a box marked FRAGILE in thick marker. "She would've hated all this. The danger, the hiding. She always wanted me to have a normal life. College, career, maybe a nice boring guy who worked in accounting."
"Boring doesn't suit you."
She glanced at me, surprised. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough." I picked up another box, started loading books. "I know you don't back down. I know you're loyal to the people you love. I know you're stronger than you think you are."
"How would you know that?"
"Because you're still standing." I met her eyes. "After everything that happened, you're still here. Still fighting. That takes strength."
For a moment, she just looked at me. Then she turned back to the closet, but I saw the way her shoulders relaxed slightly.
We kept packing. I found her laptop wedged under the couch, screen cracked but maybe salvageable. We’d figure that out later. It did make me wonder why she had two of them. Photos in albums, jewelry in a small wooden box. Little piecesof her life that deserved better than this wreckage. I called to see how much longer it would be to get the truck and to make sure my guy also brought more boxes. He was close and also had boxes and more guys to help get things carted away.
Three hours later, we had everything loaded into the truck. The guys had cleaned up the trash and taken away all the furniture. Shanice stood in the doorway of her apartment one last time, staring at the empty space. I had a cleaning crew coming to take care of the blood on the carpet, and some minor damages that had occurred during the struggle.
"I should feel sad," she said. "But I just feel angry."
"Good. Anger's useful."
I took the key from her, gave it the guy staying behind to let in the cleaning team, and we walked down to my SUV.
"What am I supposed to do with it now? This rage?"
I loaded the last box, then turned to face her. "You use it. You take your life back. You go to school, you do whatever the hell you want, and you don't let what happened define you."
"While you follow me around like a shadow." She scoffed.
"Yeah. While I do that."
She shook her head, but I caught the hint of a smile. "You're really not going to let this go, are you?"
"Not a chance. I told you. I need you very safe, Shanice."
We got in the SUV and headed back to the mansion. The things that Shanice needed with her were inside my trunk. The rest was going into storage for her to figure out later. Shanice was quieter now, but it was a different kind of quiet. Less tense. More thoughtful.
When we pulled up to the estate, she turned to me.
"Thank you," she said. "For today. For not making it worse than it had to be."
Something in my chest shifted. "You don't have to thank me."
"Yeah, I do." She opened her door, then paused. "And Mikhail? When I start classes next week, don’t make things weirder than they already are."
I smiled, slow and dark. "I wouldn’t dare."
She got out, and I watched her walk toward the house, her hips swaying in those jeans. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, like I wanted them to wrap around her waist. In time…
One week. Then she'd be on campus, surrounded by people, living her life. Giving things a fresh start. Exactly what she needed. After she was settled and feeling better, I’d approach her about making something real happen between us. Until then, I’d give her the space she needed.
Shanice
Istood in front of my closet, staring at my clothes like they held the answers to the universe.
First day of classes. First day back to normal life. First day with Mikhail shadowing my every move like some kind of oversized, brooding bodyguard.
I pulled out a sweater, then put it back. Too casual. Then a blouse. Too formal. Then another sweater because what the hell did it matter what I wore? It wasn't like I was trying to impress anyone.
