The whole damn thing was her fault.
If she’d been stronger, if she’d been able to escape or resist making those protocols, these people wouldn’t be dead. Maybe she wouldn’t be unable to go outside either. Maybe she’d be a normal damned person and—
She forced herself to stop the thoughts running around in her head and stood, stretching. It was a rabbit hole she’d gone down plenty of times before, and she knew firsthand it didn’t lead anywhere productive.
Heading to the kitchen, she turned on the coffeemaker. It was later than she normally had coffee, but sleep hadn’t been her friend the last few days. Not that it ever was much of one.
It wasn’t just the case causing her insomnia; it was the subconscious knowledge that someone else was in the house with her.
That was the thing, though. She didn’t mind that Mark was around. For three days, they’d both been inside the confines of her home, and…it hadn’t driven her crazy at all. She’d been pleasantly surprised by how comfortable it was.
When she’d offered him the spare bedroom, she’d been fully prepared to feel stifled and crowded. It had been a long time since she’d been around anyone for more than an hour or two at a time.
But it hadn’t been that way at all.
Jenna actually liked having him around and found his presence comforting rather than annoying.
More than comforting.
But that wasn’t something she could examine too closely. Not right now. Not ever. He already knew too much about her and what her life was really like.
She couldn’t afford to let him know any more of the truth.
She got a mug out of the cupboard and grabbed the creamer from the fridge. She was barely able to handle her regression as it was. The idea of Mark knowing? Of seeing how far she’d fallen, even beyond what he’d already observed? She wasn’t ready for it. Not that she ever would be.
And yet, having him here felt…good.
“Is that decaf?”
She jumped a little, gripping the creamer too tightly. At well over six feet and probably nearly two hundred pounds, the man could be absolutely silent when he wanted to be. He was lucky she hadn’t put him on the floor.
Or the hospital.
She flinched. “Don’t sneak up on me.” That could be very dangerous for him.
“Sorry.” Those green eyes pinned her, seeing way too much. “I thought you heard me.”
“I didn’t.”
He nodded. “Understood. I’ll be sure to let you know where I am from now on.”
He didn’t mock her for her overreaction or attempt to throw blame back on her. Neither did he brush off her response.
“You must think I’m a freak.” She spun back around and poured creamer into her mug.
“I’ve served and worked with plenty of people who have their reasons for not wanting someone to come up on them unawares. I was careful not to make the mistake twice with them, and I’ll be sure not to do it to you again either.”
That was all she could really ask for, wasn’t it? “Believe me, it’s for your own safety.”
“Roger that.”
He didn’t press. She was thankful.
“And no, the coffee isn’t decaf. I felt like my brain was dragging fifty pounds of rocks behind it. Want some?”
“No, thanks. How’s the work going?”
“It’s not.” She sighed, leaning back against the counter and taking a sip of the brew. “And it’s driving me crazy. There’s still nothing, and the fact that I can’t pull together anything of substance—” She shook her head. “I should be able to. It’s my work, for God’s sake. Why can’t I figure out why they’re using it? The whole thing is my fault, and right now I can’t do anything to stop it.”