Bray took a breath, sounding serious once more. “Before I give this to you, I want to ask you something.”
I glanced down at the case, realizing it was the gun I’d beenpromised.Thank God.The thought of a weapon nearbyIcould wield so I didn’t have to only rely on my protectors fizzed a wave of relief through me. “I promise not to shoot you in the balls with it like I did the poster target in the range,” I said and held up a hand like I was taking an oath.
He lost the battle to keep the smile off his face. “Thank you, but that’s not what I was going to ask.”
“Oh?”
“No.” He cleared his throat and looked nervous. “Back at the range, you said you never wanted to be a weapon. What do you want to be?”
The question almost took me to my knees. No one had ever asked me before, save maybe an elementary schoolteacher asking the obligatoryWhat do you want to be when you grow up?years ago.
As Bray looked at me with sincere interest in his eyes, the answer came to me easier than I would have thought.
“Free.”
My response looked like it nearly tookhimto his knees. It took him a moment to find his voice. “What would you do then?”
I hadn’t put a ton of thought into it because I never thought it would happen. But again, the answers came easily. “Go to college. Maybe study literature. Get a dog. Go on a date.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, with sympathy or pity or something else altogether, I couldn’t tell. Words waited on his tongue; I could sense them there. I willed him to say them. To tell me Icouldbe free. Soon. And maybe even that he’d take me on a date.Please.But his lips stayed closed.
I huffed a sad laugh and shook my head. “Pipe dreams.”
He gave me a weak smile and slid the gun case to me. “I have to get going. The combo is your birthday.”
I picked up the case and poked at the little numberedwheels lined up and ready to spin. “Is anything about me a mystery to you?” I asked as he turned to go.
He turned back and gave me a coy smile. “Many things, Erin. Many, many things.”
He left me in the kitchen with a gun, a new wardrobe, and the thought of his smile dangerously warming my heart.
CHAPTER22
It took me approximately thirty minutes of tossing and turning in Bray’s parents’ luxury cloud bed to conclude I was never going to sleep. I’d shared Thai takeout with Simmons, coerced him into telling me he had a girlfriend and a dog named Buddy, and watched a baseball game on TV until the last out. Then I’d soft-boiled myself in the tub, used the full line of skincare I’d been provided, brushed my teeth, and climbed into the bed to alternate between staring at the ceiling and at the inky night spotted with hillside lights and ships on the water.
By eleven p.m. I surrendered to temptation and grabbed my phone to text Bray, somehow sensing he was still awake.
Simmons snores.
He responded almost immediately and brought a smile to my face.
Really? There should be some earplugs in the nightstand.
No, not really. And I’m not about to go rooting through your parents’ nightstands. I don’t want to stumble on any … nightstand things.
Ew. Please don’t say that.
You brought it up.
Well then let’s change the subject.
Okay, why is it so quiet here? I can hear my hair growing.
Because my dad used special
sound-blocking insulation in the walls.
If it’s really bothering you, there’s a sound
