“I’ll get this sorted as quick as possible, all right?”
She nodded, unable to speak. Her hand gripped the phone so tight that her fingers hurt.
“Mini, I need you to talk. I need you to be okay. You know what happens if you’re not.”
He’d lose it. She knew he would. And when he lost it, well, any number of things could happen.
“If you can’t do it, then I’m coming out there, grabbing you, and we’ll head to the island.”
Shit. Get it together, Juliet.
She loved the island. But she couldn’t live there permanently.
People thought their relationship was odd. But it was a product of the way they’d grown up. They’d both developed ways to deal with what happened. And Reuben’s way of coping was to guard her with a zealousness that would infuriate other women.
She wasn’t other women, though. She needed him as much as he needed her.
“I’m fine,” she told him. “I just want you to be safe.”
Relief filled his face. “I will be. I can deal with these assholes easier if I’m not worrying over you.”
“You always worry over me,” she teased. “It’s what’s given you those gray hairs and crow’s feet.”
He barked out a laugh, running his hand through his dark hair, which didn’t have a single gray strand. “You’re the one thing in my life which doesn’t give me gray hairs.” A phone rang. He frowned. “I have to go. I don’t like leaving you like this.”
“I’m fine. You go deal with life. I’ve got a tea party to get to.”
He studied her carefully. “I want you to have a nap today, okay? You look tired.”
“I will.” It was easier just to agree.
“Love you, Mini.”
“Love you, Big Bad Wolf.”
He rolled his eyes at her nickname for him. But when he ended the call, he was looking less stressed, which is what she wanted. Knowing a full-blown panic attack wasn’t far away, she grabbed her weighted blanket from the chest under the window. Then she moved into the small space between the couch and the wall.
This was the only way to keep the panic attack from completely taking over. The weighted blanket was tucked around her. She buried her face into her knees and just tried to breathe.
Just breathe.
Damn Reuben anyway.
What kind of message was, ‘go check on Juliet’?
That was it. Nothing else. What the fuck? Xavier had tried calling him, but the asshole hadn’t answered.
He’d considered telling Reuben where to stick his order. He seemed to think Xavier lived to be at his command.
But now he was worried about Juliet. She was nothing like her brother. She was sweet, kind, and delicate.
He had the code to the gate, so he let himself in, driving up to the front of the castle-like house that Reuben had built for Juliet. This place was nearly a fortress. Cameras and alarms everywhere.
Getting out, he climbed the stairs and knocked.
Nothing.
He rang the doorbell.