Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
I stand, making my presence known, and the way her shoulders ease, some of the tension in them releasing at the sight of me, does more to my ego and body than it should.
Her eyes break from mine, her head still on a swivel as she approaches, but instead of heading to her car to do her nightly checks, she stands in front of me.
The lights at her back make it impossible to read the full emotion on her face, but I don't go so far as to reach out and reposition her so I can get a better read. I simply stand there and wait for her to speak.
"You're here," she whispers.
"I'm here," I say. "Are you okay?"
She scoffs. "Honestly?"
"Always," I assure her.
"I haven't been okay in a very long time, but today has felt more not okay than normal."
"You had a rough morning," I tell her as I reach over the side of my bike. "I brought your cup back."
"Thank you," she offers, not jerking her hand away when our fingers brush like she did this morning.
I try not to read anything into it, but find it difficult.
"Feel up to explaining a little better what happened this morning?"
Her eyes lift to mine as if she's trying to determine whether she can trust me with more vulnerability than she was forced to this morning.
"A song played in my car this morning," she says, her eyes darting away as if that information is some form of confession that will make her look weak.
"Music has a way of drawing up all sorts of past emotions," I offer.
She shakes her head. "That's not it."
Another round of silence, but I don't push any further. I don't want her to feel ambushed and forced to speak about something she's not ready to share. I noted that every time she deflected the new resident, Kayla, when she asked personal questions, she grew annoyed. I can't shift my expectations just because I'm the one standing in front of her now.
"It was my wedding song," she says, her voice growing weaker with each word. "And it was playing on my personal playlist."
"It didn't just come on the radio?" I ask, my blood running cold as I wait for verification.
"I checked, thinking the same thing. It was my playlist. I'd never put that song or any song linked to my time with Graham on my playlist."
I clench my fists, ready to ride my bike all the way to the fucking East Coast to put a stop to that man.
"Have you recently misplaced your phone?"
She shakes her head again, swallowing slowly.
"It's not the song exactly that made me freak out today. It's knowing that the only time I don't have my phone on me is when I'm either sleeping or in the shower."
"You didn't lay it down somewhere and go back to it later?" I ask, trying to figure out if there's any other explanation for that particular song being on her playlist.
"No," she answers quickly. "I make a point to have it with me always. I don't leave the room without it. Ever."
I know this is another safety feature she's added to her life, so I have no reason to doubt her words.
"That concerns me," I offer.
She scoffs again.
"Me too. I'm terrified to leave here. Do you think they'd be okay if I stayed in one of the empty rooms?"
"Will you be more comfortable here than at home with your own things?"
She shakes her head. "But I don't know that I'll be comfortable anywhere."
"If you want to stay, I can make that happen," I assure her. "If you'd rather be at home, I'll follow right behind you and make sure no one even walks past your apartment tonight."
She shakes her head. "That's asking too much."
"Two things," I begin. "One, you're not asking, and two, even if you told me not to, regardless of whether you stay here or go home, I'm still going to be right outside."
"You don't mind?" she asks. I was certain she'd reject all of it flat-out like she did last night.
Her words make me realize just how terrified she is.
"I don't mind at all," I tell her. "If it’s okay with you, I would like to make sure your apartment is secure before you enter, especially since you keep very limited access to your phone and that song still got on there somehow."
"You think that's necessary?"
"I think it's smart. I don't want to send you into a situation where you think you're safe. I'd like to guarantee that you are."
She nods her head. "Okay. You'll be right behind me?"
"I will," I assure her. "Take whichever route you had planned for this evening."
She watches my face for a few seconds longer before turning back to her car.
I don't say a word as she goes through her tradition of looking under and in before unlocking it and taking a seat behind the wheel.