4. Millie
Millie
The man whose presence had littered her dreams over the last ten years stood in front of her.
Before, he was barely a boy, on the cusp of his nineteenth birthday, preparing to go to university before ditching it to join the army, but now he was all man.
She snarled at the realisation that he was even better than her fantasies.
With his dirty blond buzz cut, he resembled the focus of her teenage longings, but now, lines sat at the corner of the ice-blue eyes that were boring into her and demanding her secrets.
A scruff of hair covered his chin and the space above the peachy lips that she’d spent two perfect weeks kissing after he’d declared his feelings for her.
He was solid when he’d crowded her and held her against him. Now, she saw the muscle that tested her focus.
But he was her enemy. He was on Hugo’s side, and she needed to escape him.
“Millie, it’s Strike—I mean, Caleb,” he grunted.
His voice, rough but with an edge of recognition, rumbled through her. It reminded her too much of the times he used to sit on her bed, whispering as they watched the latest action movie or teasing her as she made them ice cream sundaes.
She shook her head. “Get off me.”
With a shrug of her shoulders, he released her. She scrabbled for her now smashed phone.
“I’m picking stuff up,” she snapped, shoving it in her pocket to sort out later.
Strike had been surprised to see her. Hugo hadn’t called him yet. If she could sneak away in a blasé fashion, she could be out of here and at the airport before Strike caught up.
She yanked the box off the bed and attempted to duck away from him. His body filled the doorway, blocking her exit.
He glanced at glittery shoebox. She’d decorated it after he stopped by on his way back from the boxing club. That was the summer his friend Drew moved in next door
“You sneaked in to grab your teenage memory box?”
He smelt of dust and a scent that was a combination of sandalwood and vanilla. Surely, his taste in body spray had improved. Still, she breathed in the scent of her favourite memories.
“I didn’t sneak anywhere.” She tried to slink under his arm, but he eased her back, his thick fingers curled around her shoulder.
“You crept around in a dark house, turned the light on when the blind was down, wore your hood up, and didn’t park in the driveway.”
Her blood chilled. “Nosey bastard,” she spluttered, yanking her hood down.
His laugh was awkward, unsure, and there were no laughter lines on his face. “I’m a bodyguard. I notice things. Bear and I—”
She raised her eyebrow.
“Drew and I run a bodyguard firm.”
Her hands trembled where she held the box. The glitter caught the light and sparkled around the room. “Well, it was nice to see you. I’ll be going now. Give your parents my best,” she replied, her mouth dry.
His bulk blocked her exit. His stare dipped, and he scratched his chin. He hadn’t lost that tick, then, although his jaw was more chiselled now.
Blue and red lights flashed between the gaps of the blinds.
Millie tripped, hitting the wall as she reached for the bedroom light. She flicked it off, even though they might be reinforcements for him. Maybe he was here to restrain her after all.
Clutching the box tightly, she tried again to slip past Caleb, but he grabbed her, stilling her against him. She slammed her foot against his shin, but he didn’t release her.
He mumbled something, but the pressure in her head and thudding of her heart made it impossible to hear.
She squeezed her eyes shut, praying she could be somewhere else.
“I’m not going with you,” she hissed. “I don’t care who your boss is. I won’t tell anyone what I saw if you let me go. You owe me that after what you did to me.”
“I’m here to clean out my parents’ house because they’re moving.” His lips brushed her ear, and she shivered before cursing herself. It was muscle memory sparked by his scent and nothing more.
A banging on the front door made her shake against his oversized body.
“For fuck’s sake, Millie. What are you involved with?”
She gritted her teeth and gripped the box tighter.
“Can you keep me safe? I’m in trouble, and I need help, Strike.” He bristled at the name that helped her distance herself from their past. “Someone’s after me. I can’t trust the police. I need to leave. Can you help me, or will you ditch me like you did ten years ago?”
Banging sounded from the front door again as he stared at her, his eyes pinched and his jaw set.