“Won’t that just tick Cal off if he doesn’t know she’s here?” Niamh asks.
“It would,” I confirm. “He probably has people everywhere looking for her.”
“But he might have found her already anyway,” Roman says. “I don’t have the best relationship with the sheriff’s department, I’ll admit, but not sure keeping them out of this is a smart idea.”
“I’m going to call it in,” I agree with my brother, “But I’ll let them know to keep it as quiet as they can.”
He isn’t wrong about the relationship with local law enforcement; we’ve all been stung by them, none more than the two people sitting in front of me. We almost lost both of them only a few months ago, and I know that wound is still very much open. This must be stirring up a whole heap of shit for both of them. If my brother didn’t have Niamh, his literal soul mate, I’m sure he would have gone mad. They’re the best parts of each other, something that has, in recent times, made me a little jealous.
I thought I had it, but looking at the two of them shows me what a fucking lie that was. My ex-wife and I were never like them. There was always a distance between us that shouldn’t have been there in a marriage, but I didn’t see it then. I suppose I didn’t know what love truly was back then.
“I’ll call them now,” I sigh. “Why don’t you two head back? Get some sleep. I’ve got it from here.”
“I’ll send a couple of guys down this way to patrol. Having bodies present may deter anyone wanting to come back,” Roman says, “You get some rest too.”
I show them both out, shutting and locking the door behind them, and pull out my cell, dialing the sheriff’s office. I make the report quickly, asking them to add the ranch to the patrol route, which they agree to without argument. After the shit show only a few months ago, they’ve been getting a lot of heat from the papers as well as higher ups which I suppose will work in my favor here. When they agree to keep it under wraps, noting the incident rather than filing an official report, I hang up. If they are aware of a possible threat, it’ll make it easier to protect Juni, should the time come.
Making sure all the windows are locked and curtains drawn, I head to the bedroom, finding Juni in the same position I left her in. Her hair is a striking contrast to the dark sheets that tuck her in, like gold in a shadow, mesmerizing to witness.
Lowering into the chair opposite the bed, I place my head in my hand. Perhaps standing guard over her while she is sleeping is a bit much, but I don’t want her to wake up alone and be afraid.
At some point, though, I end up falling asleep, slouched in the chair, but that honey gold follows me into my dreams.
Chapter Nineteen
Sunlight probes me awake, and I pry my eyes open, turning over in the bed Idefinitelyhaven’t been sleeping in these past few nights. The sun is muted behind the curtains, but it provides enough light for me to see I’m in Silas’s bedroom and he’s in here with me.
I look at where he’s sleeping in the chair opposite the bed, slumped down with his head resting in his hand. He appears softer in sleep, younger. The lines around his eyes gone, the stern brow smoothed out, but he doesn’t look comfortable folded up like that. His big body is barely in the chair at all, knees spread wide, and I feel terrible that I took his bed.
I hadn’t meant to fall asleep; I was just trying to clear my mind, keep the nightmare of what happened in the driveway from dragging me down. It worked, I guess, because I don’t remember falling asleep. One minute I was talking and the next… I’m sitting in the middle of his bed.
His scent surrounds me, wrapping me up like a warm embrace. Spicy and exciting, it’s the type of smell you want to bury yourself in, the kind you just can’t get enough of. It’s Silas, and that’s simply enough to keep wanting more.
Bringing the neck of the tee I borrowed to my face, I inhale, letting it warm me through. He took care of me last night, chased away the fear and held me when I felt like I was falling apart. He makes me feel safe, too safe. How am I meant to want to leave this when my time comes to move on with my life?
The skin across my knees pulls tight as I push the sheets off and climb from the bed, the small grazes scabbed over and dried. I try to be as quiet as I can as I tiptoe toward the bedroom door, but apparently the man is a light sleeper. I guess he needs to be with two small children in the house.
“Juni,” his voice is full of gravel, raspy from sleep, but he clears his throat and pushes to sit up straight, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. “You’re awake.”
“I’m sorry,” I pull my bottom lip into my mouth as I watch him stand and stretch out his muscles, hearing his joints crack. I wince, knowing that was likelycaused by sleeping all folded up like that in the chair while I slept peacefully in his bed. “You should have woken me.”
He crosses over to the nightstand and opens the top drawer, pulling out a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses that he then slips on.
“Wait, you wear glasses?”
“Contacts usually,” he shrugs, “I only wear these if I read in bed or working late.”
I’m staring. I know I’m staring but I can’t fucking help it. How can glasses make him even more attractive? Like, what is it about those frames that just… ugh,just look at him.
“Did you sleep okay?” He asks. He either doesn’t notice me ogling him or is choosing to ignore it.
I drop my eyes to my bare feet, the paint on my nails chipped and growing out. “Yes.”
“Good,” His eyes keep me pinned to the bed as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, “We didn’t find anyone on the ranch last night, but I called it in to the sheriff’s office.”
Before I can open my mouth to resist, he shakes his head. “No official report, just a note. If something happens again, then they have an incident noted down which will keep timestamps and make it easier for us to protect you.”
I think back to the figure, still stuck on the shape of them and how wrong it looked. My first instinct isthat it was my husband—ex husband—because he would do it. He would scare me in the hope that it would force me to run back to him, but the more I go over what I remember, the less I believe it was him. “I don’t know if it was Cal.”
