Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
TIMOTHY
“Amanda, I’m calling it a night.” The second we stepped out of the restaurant, I held out my hand, reaching for polite and professional. I wanted something clean enough to end this without bloodshed.
Amanda stared at my hand like it offended her personally. The parking lot lights caught the shine in her eyes. “You promised me a date.”
“I promised dinner,” I said carefully. “I came because I gave my word in order to resolve a crisis.”
Her laugh came sharp and wounded. “Wow. That’s cold.”
“It’s honest.”
“No.” She shook her head, crossing her arms tight over herself. “This is because of Gia.”
I could’ve lied. Probably should’ve. Instead, I looked back through the steakhouse windows where Gia paid for her bag of takeout in that ridiculous shirt, laughing at something the hostess had said while pretending she wasn’t watching me outside the door.
“Honestly?” I admitted quietly. “Yeah. It’s because of Gia this isn’t going further.”
Amanda’s face fell in a way that made me feel a twinge of guilt.
“She showed up reeking and in that shirt,” Amanda snapped. “You can’t possibly be serious.”
Before I could stop it, a smile tugged at my mouth. “That’s kind of the problem. I am serious.”
Her expression tightened further at that. “Why her?”
I exhaled slowly, searching for words that wouldn’t humiliate her. “Amanda, you and I were never going to work.”
“That’s not what you acted like.”
I had tried to be nice tonight. “I do appreciate you giving this a shot,” I said. “And I enjoyed talking with you tonight.” That last part was generous enough to qualify as fiction, but I needed this to hurt less for her.
Then I looked back through the glass again. Gia was stuffing fries into her mouth like she hadn’t eaten all day, and possibly she hadn’t. She pointed at her chest and said something to the hostess. This time it was the teenager who burst out laughing.
God help me, I loved that woman.
I looked back at Amanda. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You’re beautiful. You’re talented. There’s a man out there who is going to think he won the lottery with you.” I smiled at her sadly. “It just can’t be me.”
* * *
It took me over an hour to get Sofia to sleep. By the time her breathing finally evened out and her little hand loosened from my shirt, I figured Gia had given up on me and gone home.
Instead, I found her sunk neck-deep in my bathtub. Steam curled through the room. Her head rested against the rim, eyes wide open, damp hair clinging to her skin while the water lapped softly against her collarbones with every slow breath she took. She’d put the lights on dim.
“Got room in there?”
I stripped out of my clothes and climbed in behind her. Water surged over the edge and splashed onto the tile. Normally, that would’ve made me twitch.
I couldn’t have cared less if the whole bathroom flooded. Gia melted back against me automatically, like her body already knew mine. The faint smell of her shampoo wrapped around me until the rest of the day finally started slipping off my shoulders.
“How’d your date end?” she murmured.
I slid my mouth against the curve of her neck, lingering there for a second longer than necessary. “Pretty sure I failed at erasing her hate for you.”
That earned me a quiet laugh, soft and rough from exhaustion.
I whispered, “I liked your shirt, by the way.”
“Swear it wasn’t on purpose.” She paused and swallowed hard. “I have bad news.”
Something in the way she said it made my stomach tighten. “What kind of bad news?”
“I’m on call.”
I huffed a laugh, trying to pull us back toward normal. “Then we better get out of this tub and move straight to the better parts of the night before anything comes up.”
She smiled faintly, but it vanished too fast.
After I helped her out and pulled the drain, I wrapped a towel around her and dried the water from her skin. She stood there quietly, letting me take care of her until suddenly her arms locked around me.
Tight. Too tight.
It was the same kind of hug she’d given me years ago—the one before she disappeared. Ice flooded my chest.
No. No, no, no. “Gia,” I said carefully, my hands sliding up her back. “What’s going on?”
“He’s going to do something.” The words barely made it out. “He texted. He’s going to do something bad.”
“Who? Jimmy McClary?”
She nodded against me.
I felt the tremor running through her. Like her body had been vibrating with fear so long she didn’t know how to stop anymore.
“If anything happens to you or Sofia…” Her voice cracked hard enough to shred me. “I can’t let that happen.”
My arms tightened around her automatically. “Are you going to run again?”
She jerked her head hard against my chest. “No.”
She didn’t sound certain.
“I need to figure out what he wants,” she whispered. “I need to keep you safe.”
Said like she thought she would be standing between us and a tornado using her bare hands to stop it.
“Gia…”
When she finally lifted her face, her eyes were wide and glassy, fear sitting so openly there it punched straight through me.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said quickly, like she was trying to convince herself as much as me. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
The fact she believed it was her responsibility nearly broke something inside me.
“You can’t be with me every second,” she rushed on. “I’m on call tonight. If I get called out—”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended.
She blinked.
“You don’t go alone,” I said. “Not tonight.”
“You can’t stop me from working. You need to be here to protect Sofia. You’re both safer here.”
“Watch me put that child in the car and ride with you.”
Fear flashed across her face again. It wasn’t fear of me, but of the impossible math spinning in her head.
Her father. Sofia. Me. Her job. Every direction ending in someone getting hurt.
For the first time since she walked back into my life, I realized she wasn’t only afraid of losing me. She was afraid she’d survive it.
I guided her into the bedroom on legs that suddenly didn’t feel so steady anymore. My mind moved fast, cycling through worst-case scenarios.
I pulled one of my T-shirts over her head. Her drowning in my clothes made her look fragile. I helped her onto the bed, then grabbed my phone.
Timothy: Gia can’t be on call tonight. Danger. Her father.
The three dots appeared almost instantly.
Josh: I’ll have any calls referred. Keep everyone safe. I’ll be home tomorrow. Late. I’ll warn the other family.
Then I texted Mark.
Timothy: Jimmy threatened Gia. He’s up to something.
Mark: I’ll watch him tonight. You keep her with you. I’ll let you know if he twitches.
I checked the locks again, even though I’d already checked them twice. Front door. Back door. Windows. Alarm armed. Then I climbed into bed and pulled Gia against me hard enough to feel her heartbeat.
“Josh pulled you off call,” I said quietly into her hair. “You’ll stay here tonight. Alarm’s on. Bagel will lose his mind if somebody is outside. Mark is watching Jimmy’s place. I got you.”
“What about Misty? Do you think she’s safe?”
“Mark will alert me if anything changes.” The words sounded steady. I wasn’t.
“I’ll text her.” She sent a message, then rolled toward me and wrapped herself around my middle. “Thank you.”
I didn’t sleep much. Every creak of the house snapped my eyes open. Around three in the morning, Bagel lifted his head with a low grumble, and I damn near climbed over Gia reaching for the gun in my nightstand before the dog settled again.
By dawn, my nerves felt stripped raw. I went out to help at the dairy barn mostly because I needed movement. I needed something to do besides lying there imagining every way this could go bad.
When I came back inside, Gia was already dressed. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me before I could ask if she was leaving for good.
“I have to go home,” she said softly. “I need to check on Misty.”
My hands locked onto her waist. “Call me if anything feels off,” I said immediately. “Anything. I don’t care how small.”
She nodded, but I could already feel the distance forming—the pull toward handling it alone. Fear tasted metallic in the back of my throat. I pulled her against me and kissed her hard enough to make a point of it.