Chapter Three
I grunt as I lug the massive, overflowing garbage bags up the narrow stairwell. The elevator in Olivia’s building complex hadn’t worked in ten years—a monument to the sheer incompetence of the building’s maintenance man.
By the time I finally reach the door of apartment 4F, my arms were shaking from the exertion. I fumble with the key, unlocked the deadbolt, and drag my makeshift luggage inside. Bear was sitting exactly where I’d left him, his attention glued to the television screen. He didn’t even glance up as I stumble in.
Honestly, I could be a serial killer for all he knows, I think, kicking the front door shut behind me. But, whatever.
I drag the heavy bags down the hallway and push open the door to my new bedroom. The moment the door swings wide, my jaw drops, and the bags slip from my numb fingers.
There was a bed. A real, actual bed frame, complete with a mattress, crisp sheets, and a plush comforter. Beside it stood a sleek wardrobe, and right next to that—
“A shoe rack!” I squeal, my inner fashion major temporarily taking over.
I whipped around, practically sprinting back into the living room, a massive smile breaking across my face as I stop in front of the couch. “Was this you?”
Bear shifts slightly, looking up at me. “Yes,” he grumbles, his tone as gravelly as ever.
“Why would you do this for me?” I ask, my voice softening as I look at him. We were strangers; he didn’t owe me a thing.
He held my gaze for a beat. “Because you looked like you had a bad week.”
A weak, ironic chuckle escapes me. “Month, actually.”
I nearly gasp when I saw the corner of his lips twitch upward. It was the faintest hint of a smile, gone so quickly I almost thought I’d imagined it, but it completely transformed his stoic face for a fraction of a second.
“Thank you,” I say genuinely. “Seriously, Bear. I owe you one.”
He gave a single, tight nod before turning his attention back to the screen.
I head back into my room, a newfound wave of energy carrying me through the unpacking process. Over the next few hours, I emptied my bags, walked across the hall to retrieve the remaining few items I’d left at Olivia’s, and neatly organized my new space. Through it all, Bear remained an absolute fixture on the couch, barely moving a muscle.
I couldn’t help but wonder what he actually did for a living.
Craving a bit of human interaction after hours of folding clothes, I walk back out to the living room and tentatively sat down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping a respectful distance.
“What are you watching?” I ask, glancing toward the screen.
"The Walking Dead,” he answers simply.
“And I’m out,” I mutter, immediately shifting to stand up.
But I was a second too late. My eyes dart to the screen just in time to see a character get graphically shot directly in the head. Blood and gore splattered across the high-definition display. My eyes widen in absolute horror, a chill running down my spine.
I bolt off the couch, practically sprinting back to my room and slamming the door behind me. Yep, definitely scarred for life.
As I threw myself onto my brand-new mattress, trying to erase the visual from my brain, my phone began to blare in my hand. I braced myself, expecting to see Jason’s or my mother’s name flashing on the screen, but relief washes over me when I saw the caller ID.
It was my dad.
To put it mildly, I was the product of a one-night stand gone entirely wrong. Because my mother was a masterclass in spite, she had spent my entire childhood weaponizing the legal system, only allowing my dad to see me on major holidays. He had fought desperately for custody, but she had ultimately won the court battle simply because she had a more stable, corporate job at the time.
I swipe to answer, propping myself up against the pillows. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, sweetie,” his deep, booming voice echoes through the speaker. “How was your day?”
“Good,” I reply, twisting a stray thread on my skirt. “I actually just moved into my new apartment.”
There was a brief pause on the line. “Wait, what happened with you and Jason moving into that place together?”
Oops. In the midst of the absolute chaos that had been my life for the past month, I realize I had completely omitted the single biggest piece of news.
I swallow hard. “Jason cheated on me, Dad.”
“Are you kidding me?!” Dad roars into the phone, the sudden volume making me pull the device away from my ear. “I’m going to fly down there right now and kick his fucking—”
“With Mom,” I cut in, the words heavy and flat.
The line went completely dead. Five seconds passed. Then ten. The silence was deafening.
“Your mother... slept with your boyfriend?” he asks, his voice dangerously quiet, vibrating with a lethal kind of rage.
“Yes,” I whisper, the humiliation still stinging just as sharply as it had four weeks ago.
“I’ll kick her ass too,” Dad growls, a string of curses muffled as he clears his throat. “For God’s sake, Daniella, you don’t need this kind of trash drama while you’re trying to focus on college.”
“I know,” I murmur. “But Olivia and Stacey have been amazing. They’ve really been there for me.”
“Is that who you’re living with now? One of them?” Dad asks, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.
“Uh, no,” I admit, biting my lip. “I’m renting a room from a guy named Bear.”
“Bear?” Dad repeats, a sudden, startled laugh breaking through his anger. “His name is Bear?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s just a nickname,” I reason. “I haven’t really asked yet.”
“Do you even know this guy, Danny? Are you going to be safe there?”
“I don’t know him super well yet,” I answer honestly. “But when I told him I didn’t have any furniture because my storage unit got robbed, he went out and bought me a whole bedroom set today before I even moved in. He seems... really sweet, under a very gruff exterior.”
“Well, I suppose that is a decent gesture,” Dad mutters, though the skepticism was clear in his voice. “Just keep your wits about you. Be careful.”
“Yes, Captain,” I say, a small smile finally returning to my face.
My dad wasn’t just protective; he was a literal Captain for the NYPD. Captain Nicholas Moore. He spent his entire life dealing with the worst society had to offer, so his paranoia was somewhat justified.
“If things get weird, you call me immediately,” he orders. “I am always here for you, Daniella. You know that.”
“Hey, if I end up needing a restraining order... can I file it through you?” I ask, the thought of Jason’s endless, unanswered calls weighing heavily on my mind.
“Not through me directly because of the conflict of interest, but I can easily have one of my detectives push it through the system,” Dad answers, his professional tone snapping into place. “Is he harassing you? Do you need one right now?”
“If it gets any worse with Jason, I might,” I state. “But for right now, it’s just non-stop calls and texts.”
“Block him, Danny. Right now.”
“I will. Doing it right now,” I promise. Taking the phone from my ear, I pull up my settings and officially block Jason’s number, feeling a tiny weight lift from my chest.
Before I could say anything else, my bedroom door clicks open. Bear peeks his dark head into the room, his emerald eyes locking onto mine.
“Dinner,” he says flatly.
Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the bedroom door wide open behind him.
“Dad, I better go,” I say into the phone.
“No, I heard him,” Dad chuckles on the other end. “Does ‘dinner’ mean he actually made you food, or does it mean you’re on duty to cook for him?”
“Guess we’ll find out,” I laugh, bidding him goodbye and hanging up.
I smooth down my skirt and walk out into the kitchen, the rich, savory aroma of garlic and herbs immediately hitting me. I approach the counter and look down in absolute shock.
He had actually made dinner.
Two perfect plates of chicken risotto were steaming on the counter. I take a bite, and my eyes widen.
It was, without a doubt, the most incredible thing I had ever tasted.