He had to be joking. “Um ... you can’t possibly think I’m going to hole up in that apartment alone every night for the foreseeable future. I’ll go crazy.”
“Better crazy than dead.”
I wasn’t sure that was true. “Hunter, we have no proof that anybody was out here watching me.”
“You had a feeling.” His tone was accusatory. “I learned a long time ago that your feelings are usually accurate.”
“When did I ever have a feeling back then?” I was honestly curious.
“How about when you were convinced that Danny Watkins was a predator and you warned Shelly Davidson?”
I’d forgotten about that. “Well ... .”
He wagged a finger, refusing to back down. “You were right. Danny was caught ... doing things ... outside of Shelly’s bedroom window. You made her so nervous she made her father check when she heard a noise. And guess what he found.”
“Danny,” I muttered, scuffing my foot against the ground.
“Danny,” he agreed. “Now, Danny was just a garden-variety Peeping Tom at that point, but it could’ve escalated. You made sure she was safe.”
“That was just a fluke.”
“It wasn’t. You also knew about ... me.”
My heart stuttered. “I didn’t know. I suspected.”
“And you were right.” He cleared his throat and steadied his voice. “You recognized what nobody else in that school could. You understood about my father. You’ve always been ... cognizant ... of certain things. We’re talking things other people can’t pick up on. I trust your instincts.”
I considered his words. Was he right? Had I always been more aware than others? Before I burned Monica’s eyebrows off at the bonfire I would’ve completely disregarded the statement. Now, though ... .
My life felt more in flux than when I first arrived. I didn’t like it. I was a creature of habit. Routine was my best friend. How was I supposed to get into a routine with all this going on? It seemed impossible.
“Stay there,” Hunter ordered, heading in the direction of the storage building. He clearly hadn’t witnessed my moment of paralyzing self-doubt.
I watched as he moved to the closest side and disappeared from view. I knew he was circling the building, so I waited. It took him longer than it should’ve to reappear on the other side.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Nothing. I really am crazy.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He was grim as he motioned for me to join him. “Who smokes here?”
I wasn’t expecting the question. “A lot of people smoke,” I replied as I joined him.
“I need a list.”
“I don’t understand.” He led me to the back corner of the building. There, in the spot that would’ve been darkest thanks to the shadows afforded by the encroaching trees, was a well-worn patch of ground. There had to be at least fifty discarded cigarette butts strewn around.
“Who smokes here?” he repeated.
“A lot of people, including Brad and Trina.”
“Do they come out this far to smoke?”
I hesitated.
“Stormy, I don’t suspect your aunt and uncle of trying to kill you,” he said gently. “That’s not what this is about. I want to know if it’s reasonable for someone who works here to come out this far to smoke. It’s a simple question.”
“Most everyone who smokes does it by that door.” I pointed toward the double doors closest to my apartment steps. “There are ashtrays right there.”
“So there’s no reason for anyone to smoke behind the storage building.” He stroked his chin. “Unless someone was watching the inhabitant of that apartment.” He gestured up, drawing my attention to the sliding glass doors that led to my kitchen.
“I’m never that far over,” I reassured him, my heart lodging in my throat. “At night, I usually hang in the living room ... or my bedroom.”
“It doesn’t matter. Someone can still see the lights. You need to install blinds on those windows.”
I nodded dumbly. “I’ll talk to Grandpa.”
“You don’t have to talk to him. Just do it. If he doesn’t like it, tell him to see me. I’ve been wanting to have a talk with him anyway.”
“It’s not that.” I shifted, uncomfortable. “I don’t have the money to buy them right now.”
Realization sparked in his eyes. “Oh. I didn’t know things were that bad.” He looked apologetic. “Well, I’ll go up there and measure. I’ll buy the blinds.”
I immediately started shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
The sympathy he’d obviously been feeling moments before evaporated, replaced by frustration. “You’re getting blinds. You can pay me back once you’ve put some money away.”
“You’re not buying blinds for me. I’ll just ... put a blanket over the doors or something.”
“No, you’re getting blinds.” He started toward the bags, grabbing all five of them this time before starting up the stairs. “Don’t bother arguing with me.”
“Oh, I’m going to argue with you.” I had to hurry to keep up with him. Even laden down, his longer legs allowed him to take two steps at a time. When he tugged on the door and it easily slid open, he gave me a look of incredulity. “What?” Frustration was positively oozing out of my pores.
“Why is this door unlocked?”
That was a very good question. “Um ... maybe Grandpa unlocked it.” That seemed unlikely. He never even entered the kitchen when he invaded my personal space. He always went straight to the bathroom.
Hunter used his elbow to push the door open the rest of the way and carry in the bags, unceremoniously dropping them on the floor before looking to the windows. “Where is your tape measure?”
“You’re not buying me blinds.”
“Stop arguing with me and get a tape measure.” Hunter’s eyes fired. “I am not leaving until you have blinds and that’s all there is to it.”
“You are so bossy,” I grumbled as I moved toward the living room. I was fairly certain there was a tape measure in the box I’d yet to unpack that I’d tucked in the corner. “That’s another thing that hasn’t changed since we were kids.”
“Well, if you expect me to apologize, it’s not going to happen. Just get the tape measure.”
I rummaged in the box for a few minutes, to the point he became frustrated and moved to join me.
“Let me.”
“I have it,” I snapped.
“Yes, well, I think you’re dragging your feet.”
We were still grappling for position in front of the box when the door to the apartment opened to allow Grandpa entrance. He seemed surprised to see us, especially as we were using our hips in an effort to box each other out.
“Well, at least you’re not naked,” Grandpa said, once he’d wrapped his head around the situation. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”
“Looking for a tape measure,” I replied. “He’s being bossy, though. Tell him to stop being bossy.”