Page 37 of Protected from Torment

“Am I in trouble?” I ask wryly, deciding to use humor in an attempt to defuse my leaping nerves. It doesn’t work, because I still feel just as anxious. And in the seconds it takes for Tyler to respond, my mind darts off into dark and dangerous places, imagining the multitude of bad answers he could give me.

The police found out about the drugs and they’re coming here to arrest you.

The team discussed it, and we need to leave. There are other clients who need us more. Other clients without a suspicious history.

I found evidence that you made everything up. You lied to me, Melissa. You’re on your own from here.

Intellectually, I know the odds of any of those things happening are low. First, the police haven’t caught my attacker yet—at least, not as of this morning—so there would be no reason for them to suspect me of selling drugs unless Tyler or one of his friends told them. And despite my proclivity towards pessimism, I don’t think they would do that.

I also don’t think the Blade and Arrow guys would just up and leave. They’re far too professional. Their company doesn’t have the reputation of being one of the best in the country for no reason, after all. So it stands to reason, once they take on a job, they’ll stick with it.

As for Tyler finding evidence of me lying? I don’t know how that would be possible, since I’ve been honest with him from the start.

Even so, I can’t help being nervous.

More than that, I’m scared.

What if Tyler has to leave for another reason? What if he’s needed back in Oregon to investigate another case? And he’s about to tell me he’s leaving me in the capable hands of his teammates?

It’s not that I don’t think Webb, Indy, and Levi can’t do the job. It’s just… I don’t want Tyler to leave.

“Why would you think you’re in trouble?” Tyler asks. His solemn expression changes to one of confusion. “Did I say something to make you think you are?”

“No,” I hurriedly reply. “You didn’t say anything like that. I just…”

What? Leapt to the worst possible conclusion again? Spent more time than I’d like to admit studying Tyler and how he looks and acts, so any small shift in his behavior throws me into a tailspin?

“What?” Tyler encourages. As he walks into my bedroom, concern softens his gaze. “Is something wrong, Mel? If there is, you can tell me.”

My stomach unclenches a bit when he switches from Melissa to Mel. He wouldn’t call me by a nickname if he was upset with me, I reason. He wouldn’t have that worried look in his eyes if he was.

I set my book down on the bed, and Tyler follows my movement. Before I can answer his question, he says, “I hope you’re not spending too much time reading. You know what the doctor said⁠—”

The pressure on my chest releases a little at his obvious concern. “I know. I’ve only been reading for twenty minutes or so. Not too long.”

Tyler stares at me for a second. Then his features relax into a smile. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, he adds, “I know you think I’m being bossy.”

“No, I don’t.”

Okay. He’s a little bossy when it comes to my health and safety. But how can I be upset about that?

Tyler grins. “Yes, you do. I can tell.”

“How?” I ask.

“It’s this look you get,” he replies. “You get a little line right here.” He traces his finger across my forehead. “And your chin”—he moves his finger to it—“gets this stubborn tilt to it.”

My skin heats where he touches me, and as I look into his eyes, there’s something deep and unreadable within that makes my breath catch. Any possible responses scatter like dandelion seeds on the wind. All I can think about is how good this feels.

But all too soon, Tyler’s hand falls from my face. He gives his head an almost imperceptible shake. “So,” he continues. “Why did you think you were in trouble?”

I take a steadying breath to regain my composure. “It’s stupid, really.”

Tyler frowns. “Nothing you say is stupid, Mel. I wish you wouldn’t say that.”

“It was just how you looked,” I admit. “Your expression. You looked unhappy. And your posture…”

“What about it?”