Page 50 of Full Throttle

“Yes.”

Hannah smiled. “We’ll come back later.”

Dom walked them out and returned, pulling off the hoodie he wore, leaving him in a tight T-shirt.

“How’s your head?” I asked, concerned.

“A bit touchy. I’m tired too, so a nap is a good thing. The kids are coming back later.” He stretched out beside me, letting me arrange myself so I was close. I felt better when I could touch him.

I sighed quietly, hoping some sleep would help. I felt jumpy and on edge. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the smoke around me. Felt the fear creep into my chest and make me tense. I fought back the emotion that was swelling. I was safe and here with Dom.

Yet, it kept building.

He tightened his arm around me. “You can cry, you know,” he whispered, understanding my emotion. “You lost your home, your place of employment, all your things. I know you’re trying to be strong for Hannah, but you don’t have to pretend with me.”

I looked up at him, meeting his intense, steady gaze.

“I know you’re here. That I’m safe. But I feel almost…scared,” I confessed. “The last time I lay down for a nap…”

“I know. I understand. You have every right to feel whatever you feel,” he murmured. “But I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you hadn’t come—” A sob escaped my mouth.

He nestled closer, pulling me to him. “I know. I keep thinking that. But I did. And you’re here and safe. Nothing is going to hurt you. I promise.” He pressed a kiss to my head. “Let it out, baby. You’ll feel better.”

I buried my face into his chest and began to cry. I let myself grieve for my lost possessions. My job. My home. How close I’d come to losing everything. Dom held me, not offering platitudes or telling me everything would be okay. He let me cry until my own thoughts changed from “what if” to “what now.” I still had most of my photos and keepsakes. They were with Hannah. I never really liked the apartment, and I would find another place. I had already known I was going to have to give up hairdressing soon. My legs and shoulders couldn’t do it full time anymore. I would find another job.

And I was alive. With Dom. He was with me, his heat soaking into my skin like a warm blanket. His scent wrapped around me, and the faint whiff of smoke was disbursed by his cologne. By him.

With a long shudder, my tears stopped. I wiped my face with the tissue he handed me and cuddled as close as I could get.

Then I slept.

Later, my boss called to check on me, tearfully informing me the salon was gone and she wasn’t sure if she would ever reopen. I didn’t tell her I wouldn’t return. I wasn’t ready to say that yet.

“I have no idea what happened,” she wept. “The girls locked up, and they said everything seemed fine.”

“Could be an electrical fire,” I suggested.

“When I think of what could have happened…” she said. “I would never have forgiven myself if you had died, Cherry.”

“Well, Dom got me out,” I soothed.

“Thank God for that man.”

I glanced over at him. He was beside me, his hand on my leg, but he was watching the news on the TV, content to be close. We both needed that right now.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Thank God for that.”

“I’ll be in touch soon,” Connie promised. “Be sure to file a claim with your insurance and get me the information.”

“I will.”

I sighed as I hung up the phone. “At least my car and tenant insurance are through the same company and a broker I’ve used for years,” I said. “I know them, and they know me.” I had already called my broker, and he was coming to see me and would visit the apartment site to take pictures. “I didn’t have a large value for the contents since it was furnished. And what was destroyed can’t be replaced,” I added sadly.

Dom squeezed my leg. “Still, the claim can be filed, and you can use the money to purchase what you need. Once you find a new place.” He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe this is a good time to think of relocating.”

I tilted my head, studying him.