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“Hold on.” My brows furrow and I study him. “How in the hell did you see me lying on the floor?”

He immediately looks guilty.

What the fuck?

“Uh… so, about that…” He lets out a nervous laugh. “I may or may not have installed some cameras in your apartment so I could keep an eye on you, make sure you were safe.”

I blink at him. “You what?”

“Yeah, you know, after what happened at Voodoo—”

“Dalton,” I whisper, cutting him off and he winces.

“Look, I am sorry that I didn’t tell you but I won’t apologize for doing what I had to do to make sure you were safe. I can’t.”

I don’t even know what to say.

And I can’t even say that I’m shocked.

I should probably be more upset about this. Maybe demand to know why he didn’t tell me. But the truth is, when I was alone in this apartment after what happened at Voodoo, every sound had me reacting, reaching for the phone. I hated how vulnerable I felt. And now I know I wasn’t completely alone. He still should have told me but I don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

Releasing a sigh, I shake my head. “We will talk about this later.”

“Deal,” he says, holding his hand out to me as he grabs the duffel bag in his other hand. “Let’s go home, baby.”

Home.

He keeps saying that word in regards to his house.

I don’t hate it but I don’t know if I can trust that particular part yet.

After slipping my hand into his, he leads me down the stairs to where his bike and my Jeep are parked. He sets my stuff in the back of the Jeep and I turn to look at him with a frown.

“I’ll have Jumper and Gear come get my bike. I’m too fucking exhausted to ride tonight.”

I nod and hand him my keys. He slips behind the wheel and I get into the passenger seat, closing my eyes and releasing a breath. The ride back to the compound passes in a blur. Cool night air hitting me in the face as exhaustion and everything we still haven’t said weigh heavy on my mind.

I think about Dalton’s childhood. All the things he told me about tonight. I think about my own and how eerily similar they are in some ways.

Maybe that’s why it’s always felt like he sees me.

Because he does.

Because he understands me in a way most people don’t.

Or can’t.

By the time he pulls my Jeep into the garage, I’m not even sure I can make it into the house. My body is heavy and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. Dalton climbs out of his side and grabs the duffel bag from the back before stopping by my door.

“You coming, sweetheart?”

I shake my head. “Can’t. Too tired.”

He laughs, opening my door and scooping me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he leans down to grab the duffel bag before carrying me inside. The bag gets tossed into the kitchen to be dealt with later before he carries me up the stairs to his bedroom and then into the bathroom.

“Sit here, baby,” he says, setting me on the vanity and I nod, pulling away from him and untangling my legs from his waist. I lean back against my hands and watch him as he turns the shower on. He turns to me and start stripping his clothes off, tossing them to the floor before he looks at me with an arched brow.

“Are we getting in the shower fully clothed?”