Santiago’s groggy voice stretches across the bed. “If you two need to fuck it out, feel free.”
I feel Walker jostle about a bit, then a thwack echoes in the room.
“Ouch!” Santiago whisper-shouts.
“Shut up and go to sleep,” Walker demands as he returns his arm to my hip.
The room rests in silence.
The jokes cease.
Snores begin to pick up—both human and canine.
And the snow falls outside.
It’s strange. Not too long ago, I felt alone.
Now three stubborn, infuriating men won’t let me out of their sight.
And it feels good.
Like home.
CHAPTER 30
WALKER
Last night was the best sleep I’ve ever had, and that is not a good thing. Even with Santiago’s snoring, which is so loud it’s like he’s actively trying to wake the dead, I had a good, deep sleep.
At some point in the night, Blake turned over, facing me, and tucked her head beneath my chin. The position felt so natural, it was as if we’d been sleeping like this for years.
She trusted me to keep her safe.
That’s the problem.
I can’t.
Last night at the motel proved that.
I’m too attached. I’m too close to all of this.
Not just the investigation.
Too close toher.
But I can’t seem to backpedal. There’s no going back to the way things were.
Somewhere over the last few weeks, the line between my role as sheriff and something else disappeared, and I don’t remember crossing it.
Maybe…
The line never existed.
Blake doesn’t know I’m standing in the doorway of the multipurpose room, watching her work.
Good.
She’s been in here poring over photos of her motel room for hours. She’s almost completely recreated her murder wall.
