I kept my eyes on the table as if I wasn’t listening to him at all.“No.”My voice came out low, controlled.“Nothing out of the ordinary.No cars lingering.No foot traffic that doesn’t make sense.Just neighbors walking dogs and old men jogging like they’re training for the apocalypse.”
Twister’s mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed hard.“You sure?”
I took a sip of coffee.It was strong.Bitter.Good.“I’m sure.”
I’d been up before the sun every day since Britta came home.I’d watched the street until my eyes burned.I’d watched the corner.I’d watched the neighbors’ routines.I’d watched the mailman.I’d watched the squirrel that kept trying to climb the same tree and failing, like it was personally offended by gravity.
If someone got within a block of this place, I would know about it.
Twister’s gaze drifted to Britta.“How’s she doing?”
“She’s doing fine,” I said, and I realized I meant it.Mostly.“A lot of sleeping.She stays in her bedroom most of the time.When she’s up, she’s stubborn as hell.Which is… good.”
Twister’s eyes flicked to mine.“That’s good?”
“It means she’s still her,” I said simply.It meant she hadn’t gone quiet in the way some people did after they’d been hurt.It meant she still had fight.Even if she was exhausted.
I watched Britta reach for her mug with her good arm, fingers wrapping around it carefully.“She should be getting her stitches out in a few days,” I added.
Twister nodded once.“And after that?”
I exhaled slowly through my nose.“I don’t know,” I admitted.“Who knows what she’s planning?”
Twister’s voice stayed quiet, but there was something sharp under it.“Do you think she’s gonna stay here?”
I glanced at him.Just a look.“It’s up to her.”
Twister watched me for a beat, then asked the question I knew was coming.“You planning to stay here?”
I didn’t flinch.“Wherever she is,” I said, “I’ll protect her.”
Twister went still.Not much, but enough for me to notice.The smallest pause, the tiniest shift in his posture.Then he huffed a quiet breath like he was biting back a grin.“Since when?”
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug, keeping my voice level.“Since someone shot her.”
Twister angled closer, dropping his voice even more.“What the hell is going on with that, Swift?”
I stared into my coffee like it held answers.
“I didn’t know you had an interest in Britta.”
I didn’t either.Not like this.
I’d noticed her before.I wasn’t blind.Britta was pretty in that effortless way.The kind of woman who could roll her eyes at you and still make you want to hear what she had to say.Curvy in the right places, sharp mouth, sharper brain.She had this vibe like she could hold her own in any room.
But interested?
That implied time.
Fun.Flirting.A slow burn.
And I hadn’t had room in my life for slow anything in a long time.
Then she got shot, and something in me snapped into place like it had been waiting.
I shrugged again, but my throat tightened.“I wasn’t blind before,” I said.“But having someone shot… it changes the math.”
Twister’s brow furrowed.“The math?”
