She leans in a little closer and says, “Neighbors mean someone might hear.”
“Hear wha—” I don’t finish, because my brain already filled in the answer.Someone fighting for their life.
“Don’t look at me like that. I know it’s not… that I shouldn’t think like that, but I can’t help it. It kills me to know I will probably never be comfortable at the ranch again, and it makes me even madder that I’m letting him steal something else from me. He… It colors every thought I have, and I’m sick of it.” Anger and pain make her voice hard. I notice a couple just a few seats away with their eyes trained on us, ready to see what other drama might unfold.
I squeeze her fingers and tell her the only thing I can. “You won’t always feel that way.” I wish I could promise her more and tell her she will forget about all this someday, that it will just be a distant memory, but some memories are too big to dismiss, and unfortunately, Hayzel’s death and the way she lost her will be with Harlyn for the rest of her life. Eventually, time will ease her memories if she allows it. I don’t see that happening with the killer still on the loose though.
Cheeks red, Harlyn lays her head on my shoulder without another word, but her eyes say everything she doesn’t. She doesn’t believe me or can’t—not yet.
When I look up again, the other couple is no longer looking in our direction, having lost interest when no more tense words were spoken.
CHAPTER 20
Harlyn
Boone’s car is surprisingly warm, considering the cooler temperature outside. It’s pretty clean, but he still shuffles a few small pieces of paper around that look like receipts and other bits of trash from the open center console.
I would tell him not to bother, but he finishes before I have the chance. The first ten minutes are quiet. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I’m sure he’s just as conflicted as I am about taking me to his house. Maybe not for the same reasons, but the truth is we just met, and not that anything with me would ever be conventional considering my life, but not very many people would be willing to bring a girl with a killer stalker to their home.
“Boone,” I start after what feels like the hundredth attempt, “just listen, please. I get that this is what you do, and you feel an obligation to help me, but I just don’t think it will end well. I want your help—needyour help, really, but I don’t want to intrude on your life.” I think he’s actually listening for the first time when he doesn’t immediately shut me down, so I continue.“I’m sure there’s a hotel nearby where I can be out of your hair and?—”
“Why don’t you want to stay with me?” He glances over at me in the passenger seat before slowing the car and turning into an apartment complex. I’m too busy staring at the side of his face to notice much more than some short brown buildings and the vague notion of uniformly spaced balconies.
“Because I don’t want to take over your life.”
He angles his car into a spot right in front of a building before sitting back in his seat and saying, “What life? I work and come home. I work some more and, oh yeah, work, so what’s next?”
“What’s next?”
“Why else don’t you want to stay here with me?” He motions toward the windshield, pointing at the complex in front of us. He’s so calm and reasonable. He makes it hard to argue, even if it’s for his own good.
“You could end up dead.”
He tips his head back and has the nerve to sigh. “We already went over that. Next.”
I get irritated and start to lose steam at the same time—it’s a weird mix of emotions. “How do you see this playing out, Boone? What if you don’t catch this guy in a month or six? What then? Do I just live with you forever?”
“That depends on if you keep cooking for me.” I think he’s joking, but I’m not really sure since he seems so serious. “Hell, I’d let you stay even if you didn’t.”
“I’m being serious,” I snap.
“Next,” he counters with a slow blink.
I let out a sound that is half growl, half huff. “I like you, could really like you, and I don’t want to ruin that with this.” I flap my hand around my body in a sure sign of frustration.
“Would you rather be alone in a hotel room?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And don’t lie. I will know.”
I narrow my eyes at the warning. “That’s a dumb question.”
“Are you afraid to be alone in my apartment with me?” His brows shift high on his forehead as if he’s reminding me not to lie.
“No,” I scoff.
“One final chance. Tell me exactly why you don’t want to stay with me.” The way he’s sitting, looking at me, and speaking is challenging, yet he’s utterly calm like he already knows the outcome, and he’s just waiting on me to reach the same conclusion. I’m not sure how to respond, so we end up in a staring match.
Eventually, he lowers his arms and takes the key out of the ignition. “I’m not going to keep you unwillingly. This isn’t me taking over your life either. This is me taking care of you the best way I know how—someoneI like. I get this may not be the standard for dating or getting to know someone, but I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather you be, and it isn’t just about what we are dealing with. If circumstances were completely different, I would still have pursued this. Now I just have a damn good reason to move it along faster.”
I still don’t know what to say, so I remain quiet. His words haven’t magically erased my concerns, but the truth is, I don’t care about doing things the standard way. I don’t care if we move fast. I only care if he does. “I’ll cook,” ends up being my response, and it seems like it’s enough for right now, because Boone gives me a rather sweet smile in return.
