He nods, looking proud and cocky. “Oh, and look who’s here. Guess he wasn’t sure what to do after you blew him off. So, now that you know, it’s your new ride parked in front of your new house.”
I follow his eyes and there it sits. The freaking limo from this morning.
“I can’t accept this, Trent,” I shake my head, clearing my throat, ignoring the twelve warning lights lit up across my dashboard. “This is yours. Not mine.”
Trent scoffs, shooting me an icy look, but a second later it’s melted away.
“Stop being so fucking hard-headed. You will take the money. You will live in the house. You will let me take care of you.”
A wave of relief bubbles up in me. I blow out a horse-breath as I come to a stop in front of a blooming magnolia. “Fine.”
“Atta girl,” he grins, running his tongue over his teeth, making my head spin. “Now, let’s go check it out. I want this to be something we do together. See our new home for the first time, just you and me.”
I switch off the ignition and come around to his side, watching him wince as he shifts his body through the passenger door. He’s tense, tight with pain, and rock-solid as a statue.
The limo driver starts our way, but Trent waves him off, pointing to a guesthouse bigger than our family home and telling him to stand down until further notice.
Then he drapes his arm over my shoulders and we move down the cut stone walkway and onto the porch. Trent pops a code into the digital lock and the door clicks open.
“Together.” He nods inside. “We step through this door together.”
My insides tangle again as we both place our right foot inside the house. The tall ceilings and plush carpets are impossibly beautiful. From Town & Country or some Ralph Lauren ad. The air is cool, with a hint of eucalyptus and lilies.
We move forward in silence, through the foyer which is big enough to host a party. It’s so quiet I can hear Trent breathing and the soft, slow tapping of our feet as we explore this unknown and unfamiliar grandeur.
By the time we come through to the kitchen with soaring beamed ceilings and a deep blue and gray granite island with seven bar stools I need a breath. It feels odd and uncomfortable somehow. I shrink back, wanting to be small and unnoticed, unlike this place, which demands attention.
“Trent. This is too much.”
He gives me a little squeeze. “Not even close. And I had some stuff brought over for you. I had the attorney’s office put it all upstairs. But if it’s not right, we can go back to your place to pack you up. They should have also left an Amex for you in your room. We will set up a bank account for you now that I’m back as well.”
I blink, attempting to reconcile with this new world of possibility.
I have so much to say but all I can manage is, “Okay. Thank you.”
So lame. So formal. Impersonal, but there’s a part of me that believes this is a dream. It will evaporate as soon as I get comfortable. From the kitchen, we step through a dining room that seats twenty, then we loop back to the foyer.
“And just one more thing.” He pauses by the big, sweeping staircase. “Give me your keys to that shitbox outside. It’s not safe. We’ll have the driver take you where you need to go until we get you a new ride. He’s a buddy of mine. He’ll take care of you. I’m not letting you drive one more mile in that fucking death trap. You’re not going to be in danger on my watch.”
Danger. God, if he only knew about the danger. If only he knew all that was going on. But he was right that I couldn’t keep living in danger like I have been. And it doesn’t matter if it was from my stupid Jeep or bigger darker forces beyond my understanding. Either way, I am so relieved, deep down, not to be alone anymore.
“Okay.” I hand over theHello, Kittykeychain and smile at the sharp contrast of the smiling pink cat face in his enormous rough palm. “Deal.”
He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Let’s go check out upstairs.”
* * *
The primary suiteis somehow more decadent than what we’ve seen so far. A huge four-poster bed with crisp sheets, and beautiful modern art on the walls. It’s warm and rich and fresh.
I slip off my shoes, the urge to feel the white carpet between my toes suddenly urgent somehow. Trent peels off his fatigues jacket tossing it on a plush chocolate brown cushioned chair next to the bed. He looks so handsome in his gear. He looks so handsome in anything, really…
Until I see what is below.
The tight white tee-shirt shows the carved indents of his lean muscle. But it also shows the thick white bandages that cover swaths of his chest, belly and back.
My heart cracks in half looking at him. The reality that I could have lost him is suddenly so fresh. So raw.
He’s the only family I have. My vision blurs at the thought of how close I came to losing him. His tattooed arms are thick with muscle. His body is so lean, so hard. Almost too hard, from too much work and not enough to eat.