I was dumbfounded. “Do you think that’s really necessary?”
“Yes.” The tilt of his chin told me that there was no changing his mind, so I grabbed a blanket and pillow from the closet and made sure he was settled before retiring to my bedroom.
I couldn’t decide if knowing he was in the apartment was better or worse. I felt safer with him serving as a barrier should someone try to break in again. But all I could think about was the fact that he was in my apartment, right outside the door, close enough to touch.
I tossed for hours, finally dragging myself from the bed to stand at the edge of the living room and stare at him. The light from outside was dim, but it illuminated his face. As if sensing me, he shifted and looked up. We shared a long, mournful stare. Then, wordlessly, he lifted the blanket and shifted to make room.
I had a decision to make, and it wasn’t hard. I crawled in next to him, shivering as he tucked the blanket around us and held me tight.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmured, his breath hot on my ear. “I promise. We’ll ... figure it out.”
I wanted to ask exactly what he thought we were going to figure out, but this was not the time for a heavy discussion. “I’m sorry for all of this. It’s not your job to take care of me.”
“I’m a police officer. It is my job.” His body was warm next to mine. “Go to sleep, Stormy. In addition to getting you blinds, I’ll upgrade the security system on that door tomorrow. I don’t want to hear any arguments.”
“Okay.” Something occurred to me. “Do you still snore?”
He chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “Does it matter?”
“No, but I’m actually looking forward to it.”
“Then batten the hatches. I think you’re going to be happy.”
HE DID INDEED STILL SNORE. I slept harder than I had in years, though, despite the upheaval of the previous night. When I woke, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. I felt warm and safe and happy.
And then he shifted.
“You’re awake,” I realized. The lack of snores should’ve been a giveaway.
“I am.”
I rolled so I could see his face, almost sighing when I caught sight of the morning stubble and lazy smile. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Surprisingly, yeah. I didn’t even stir once I went down.”
“Me either. I didn’t dream. I can’t remember the last time that happened.”
“You used to say that you got your story ideas from dreams.” He pushed my hair from my eyes, making me realize it was probably standing on end in a hundred different directions. He didn’t seem to care, so I didn’t either.
“I haven’t gotten story inspiration in a long time.” Even though I was ridiculously comfortable, I strained to a sitting position and studied the clock. “I have to be downstairs in thirty minutes.”
“Morning shift again?” His lips curved into a smirk. “I take it from that look on your face that you’re still not a morning person.”
“I hate mornings. Grandpa is making me stay on them until he’s convinced I don’t need supervision. He’s a mean dude when he wants to be.”
Hunter barked out a laugh. “He’s a pretty decent guy.”
“Then why is he making me work mornings when he knows I hate them?”
“Have you ever considered that he wants you close? You’ve been gone a long time. You’re one of his favorites, though he’d never admit to having favorites.”
“The boys are his favorites.”
“On the surface, yes. He’s closer with the boys, like David, because he thinks he should be. But he favors you.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
Hunter’s hand moved to my back so he could lightly rub. “I still think he loves you.”
“Of course he loves me. We’re family. You have to love family, even when you don’t like them.”
“Fine. I think he likes you, too. You’re just determined to be hard on yourself right now, so there’s no point in continuing this conversation. Hopefully, when things settle a bit, you’ll realize what a pain you’re being and get over it.”
I shot him a look. “I’m not being a pain.”
“Oh, you’re being a pain.” He poked my side and grinned. “You’ve always been this way. You’re a crab in the morning, but I think there’s more going on here than just that.”
He was right. “Do you ever think things are so bad there’s no way they can ever get better?”
It was a serious question, and the way the smile slid from his face told me he was going to give it a serious answer. “Only once.”
“With your dad?” I felt like an idiot. He’d gone through so much. Of course he felt that way as a kid.
“No. I knew I would get away from my father if I could somehow survive for a few years. When you and I got together, the escapes were easier. The dreams were easier, too. I saw the way your family was and knew there was more out there.”
The reaction was so earnest it shocked me into silence.
“The only time I felt like there was no way out was when I lost you.” He shimmied to the end of the couch and refused to meet my gaze. “It took a long time to crawl out from that hole. I did, though. Eventually. You’ll do the same. You just need to ... breathe. I don’t think you’re allowing yourself to relax even a little bit.”
“How can I when there are strange people trying to get into my apartment?”
“I plan to make sure that’s impossible after today, so you can’t continue to use that as an excuse.”
I decided to remind him one more time that I wasn’t his responsibility. “You don’t have to. I’m sure you have things that need to be done in your own life.” Like Monica, who was probably spitting mad.
“Don’t start.” He pinned me with a look. “This is going to happen. I’m not leaving this apartment until I’m sure you’ll be safe. Just ... stop arguing about it.”
Another glance at the clock told me I had no choice in that matter. “Well, thank you.” I grunted as I found my footing. “I think I might be too old to sleep on the couch like we just did.”
That was enough to earn another smile. “Yes, you’re old and decrepit.”
“Sometimes I feel that way.”
“Well, get over it.” He was firm. “Your life is still at the beginning. Once you realize that, you’ll start looking forward instead of back. That will be a great day.”
“I certainly hope so.”
GRANDPA WAS BEHIND THE GRILL. The look he shot me was unreadable.
“I’m on time,” I said automatically. Sure, my hair was still wet and I’d whipped it back in a braid to keep it out of my face, but I wasn’t late.
“I’m well aware.” His eyes returned to the stairs, as if waiting for someone else to come down.
“What are you looking for?” I asked, confused.
“You know who I’m looking for.”
My stomach did a jittery jig. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I was never the smoothest of liars.