28. Dominic
CHAPTER 28
Dominic
MY HOUSE. MY WINE.
PRESENT
T he sun is beginning to rise by the time we return to Ellie’s townhouse. Her head rests against the passenger door window, her gaze fixed blankly outside.
“I’m going to do a sweep inside, make sure the house is empty.” It’s not necessary, but it’ll give me peace of mind, something I desperately need right now.
She nods, not protesting at all, which isn’t a good sign. The Ellie I know would put up a fight, insist that she didn’t need me or my help.
As I climb out of the cruiser, I gesture for her to stay put. She doesn’t argue, confirming my suspicions that she’s more shaken up than she’s letting on.
The only reason I’m comfortable leaving her alone in the driveway is because there are two patrol cars parked out front, waiting for me to give the all-clear before returning to duty.
I head to the front door and quickly inspect the exterior. All the windows are intact, no sign of forced entry .
When I step inside, my nose is instantly flooded with her smell, and I can’t help but breathe it deeply. Walking around with measured steps, I take in the small space; a two-story, three bedroom, two bathroom townhouse. It’s older, but has clearly been well-maintained over the years.
We were so young when we broke up, I never got the chance to see her get an apartment or make a space her own. If I was forced to guess what kind of home Ellie would’ve made, the scene before me is nearly identical to the image in my head. Plush, velvet furniture, dark colors, art and photographs that shouldn’t go together, yet appear meticulously curated. Everything is intentional, but looks as if it’s not. Like Ellie, it’s a juxtaposition of all the characteristics that make her unique. She doesn’t conform, and her home is a reflection of that.
I listen carefully for any sounds that don’t belong. The home is eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you jump at the drop of a pin. My paranoia is in overdrive, amplifying the lack of noise. When the ice maker in the fridge sounds loudly, indicating a new cycle, my pulse spikes. Normally I’m able to keep my overactive mind from racing when I’m on the job, but nothing about this situation is normal, and nothing threatening Ellie’s safety will ever have me reacting calmly.
Moving on from the main level, I check upstairs, the bedrooms and bathrooms appear untouched. One guest room is being used as a closet—overflowing with clothes—and the other an office. I try not to let my mind wander into inappropriate places when I get to her bedroom, where her bed sits in the middle, sheets crumpled from where she was curled up before all hell broke loose.I can’t help put look at the smooth spot next to it, where someone else would be if she shared her bed—where I would be if I was lucky enough to sleep next to her. The idea feels as farfetched as it could possibly be. And now, more than ever, I can’t afford to let myself get distracted by my feelings for her—not with so much at stake .
After checking every closet, and any space someone could slip into and appear undetected, I’m satisfied no one was in the home or is hiding in it now, and head back downstairs to the living room.
Through the front window I can see Ellie is right where I left her—seated in the passenger seat of my cruiser, wearing a stoney expression.
When I reach the cruiser, and open up the passenger door for her to step out, she doesn’t acknowledge me. Her body moves as if it’s going through the motions. She’s so deep in her head I’m not sure she knows it’s me who’s guiding her to the front porch.
I prop open the door for her to pass through. “All clear,” I tell her as I toss a wave to the deputies, indicating they can leave.
She passes, not once looking my way.
I close the door behind me, latching it at the same time, and watch her move through her home. Tossing her purse on the entry table, she walks to the kitchen, where she opens a cabinet and pulls out a wine glass.
There’s a half-finished wine bottle on the counter. She yanks off the rubber stopper and pours a generous glass-full.
I twist my wrist, checking the time. It’s six in the morning.
“Kind of early for wine, don’t you think, Ellie girl?”
The glare she aims my way could light a fire. It’s also the most emotion I’ve seen her show since she broke down hours ago.
She raises the glass as if to cheers me. “My house. My wine. My coping mechanism. You’re welcome to leave.”
My head shakes as I approach her. I risk my pride and stand closer than I should. Now that I’ve had her in my arms, I’m nothing if not a fiend, seeking my next fix of her. She keeps her feet planted, not moving, and trying like hell to not look affected.
“You’re going to have to pry this glass from my cold, dead hands.” Once she’s done speaking, her eyes close with a wince, like she’s regretting her poorly worded phrase. “You know what I mean.”
I wrap my hand around the stem of the glass, covering hers. “Never joke about your death. You’re not dying. You’re not allowed to.”
Our eyes lock and her chest rises with a big inhale. “There you go again, trying to tell me what to do.”
Even though I know now isn’t the tine, my body leans closer, brushing up against hers as I dip my head to hover above her ear. “You used to like it,” I whisper.
She visibly shivers, causing my chest to swell. I want her reactions. I need her reactions. Anything besides her blank stare.
But as quickly as it dropped, her blank expression is back, and she breaks eye contact, putting distance between us as she pulls her hand away from mine. The pang of loss is immediate.
Setting down the wine glass, she begins rifling through a junk drawer, haphazardly tossing things on the floor, looking for something.
“Where are they?” she hisses under her breath.
“What are you looking for?”
“Cigarettes,” she grumbles while continuing to search the overflowing drawer.
My head rears back. There’s no way I heard that correctly. Right?
“Since when do you smoke?”
Ellie never smoked. Not even weed, let alone a cigarette. I can’t even picture it, the image is so far removed from the girl I knew.
She shrugs, not bothering to look at me. “Only sometimes. Like when I’m drinking or stressed.” Her gaze darts to the wine glass. “In this case, it’s both. ”
After tearing apart the drawer and still coming up empty, she lets out a frustrated groan, slams it shut, and swipes the wine glass up.
“Definitely wasn’t expecting that,” I say more to myself than to her.
Her lips crest the rim of the glass before she tips her head back and takes a big gulp, swallowing the wine like it’s water. “That’s the nice thing about getting older, you change.”
I laugh with a huff. “Whatever you say, Ellie girl.” If my presence is grating on her now, then she’s really not going to like what I have to say next. “Better get used to me, because we’re about to become really close.”
She snorts as if I said a joke. “What makes you think that?”
Instead of answering her, I turn my back and walk into the living room. She lets out an exasperated sigh as I sink down onto the couch and get settled.
Stomping in, she stops just short of the coffee table in the middle of the room. “What are you doing?”
My shoulders lift. “Getting comfortable.”
Her spine straightens, and she remains standing, staring at me with pure ice. “Don’t you have work or something? Or better yet, a house to go to?”
The corners of my lips twitch before a smile fully takes over. I’ll take whatever anger she wants to throw at me, it doesn’t faze me a bit. “Oh, I’m not leaving.”
She crosses her arms, causing the wine in her glass to swirl around. “What do you mean, you’re not leaving?”
My grin widens. “I’m. Not. Leaving.”
She’s out of her mind if she thinks I’m leaving her alone after this. Her car getting destroyed could just be the beginning, and I’m not going to sit back and act like this is nothing. Even if it’s not related to the Delmar case, which I hope to hell it’s not, someone has it out for her. Until this is resolved, they’re going to have to get through me first.
If smoke could blow out of her ears, it would be happening right about now.
“Until the situation is handled,” I continue. “And the perp is in custody, you’re never left alone. Either I’m here, and sleeping on your couch, or there’s a patrol car parked out front. Until I know your life is no longer in danger, you’re going to be protected. I’d gladly do it twenty-four seven, but I have a job, so when I can’t be here, patrol will take over. I already spoke to Under Sheriff Doyle and got the approval.
“And while we were at the station, I spoke with your family. Your dad agreed that I should stay with you, and your brothers are on board with keeping an eye on you, escorting you home if needed. Everything has been handled.”
Her eyes bulge as she rapidly shakes her head. “Absolutely not! And why are you talking to my family behind my back? My car was vandalized, no one held a knife to my neck and threatened me. This is a massive overreaction.”
I stand and walk up to her. She responds by stepping back until her back hits the wall that divides the kitchen and living room.
“Someone has been trying to get your attention and taking pictures of you without your knowledge. Someone has been watching you. And who knows how long this has gone on before they got brave enough to make it known. They’re stalking you. Now they’ve escalated to vandalism. It’s only going to get worse. If I’m here, I can protect you.”
With our eyes locked, and her scent floating between us, I can no longer keep my hands to myself and cradle her face in my hands. When she doesn’t flinch, I stroke my thumbs over her cheekbones. If I’m not mistaken, she leans into the touch.
“If I have to burn down the world to find this fucker, I will. I’ll do anything to keep you safe, even if it means pissing you off. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to protect you. I would kill for you without a second thought, do you understand?”
Her sea glass eyes stare at me, shocked, and her only response is to nod.
Realizing I got carried away, I stagger back and release her from my hold.
Knowing what I know about Victoria Delmar is enough to send me spiraling, especially imagining the same happening to Ellie. I didn’t give it a second thought. I’m staying, and it’s final. We’re past the point of me giving her space.
The Delmar case had some interesting revelations this week. One being that we’re suspecting the perpetrator held Victoria captive, keeping her alive until she no longer served him. Therewere signs of assault and malnourishment. Ellie doesn’t know any of this because the details haven’t been released to the public. Unfortunately, I know too much. And I’ll be damned if the same happens to her.It might not be the same guy, this might be an isolated incident, but I’m not willing to risk her on a bunch of maybes and mights.
“Whatever,” she says flatly, before tossing her head back and chugging the remainder of wine in her glass. She strides away, not looking back. “I’m going to bed, I’m exhausted. Don’t bother me.”
I expected a little more of a fight from her, but it’s been a long morning.
Fuck, I’m exhausted, too.
As tired as I am, I have no plans to sleep for a while. Not with this shit going on. While she rests, I’ll be spending the remainder of the day focused on the house and the surrounding area. Watching.