Chapter 15 #2
He’s still trembling as he does what I instruct, but he also obeys beautifully. I trail him into the kitchen, then into his bedroom, then into the guest room.
When he gets to the bathroom, he stops and frowns.
I tap him on the shoulder. ‘What?’
‘My soap. Cologne. Shampoo. All gone.’ He gestures to the door on the bathroom sink cabinet that was left open. ‘I have extra. All gone.’
‘What else?’
‘Shirts,’ he tells me. He pulls me into the bedroom and points to an open drawer in his dresser. ‘Pajamas and T-shirts. Gone.’
I begin to make a list, and in the end, he’s missing boxers, socks, one dress shirt, two pairs of shoes, and a single coffee mug with “coffee” in ASL drawn on the side.
It all seems random, but I know it’s not. I just don’t know how to connect the dots yet.
Glancing over, I see Denver’s shaking again, so I back him against the wall and carefully take his hands in between mine. I know better than to restrict his communication like this, but the more I squeeze, the more his shoulders relax.
I think he might do the same if I were to press my hand over his mouth or his throat, but I can’t do that until he’s a bit more healed from his injuries.
When he’s breathing easier, I kiss each palm before dropping them. ‘What do you need to bring?’
His eyes seem a little hazy as he shakes his head. ‘I don’t know. It all feels…’ He hesitates. ‘Dirty. Tainted. Wrong. Don’t want to touch.’
I think I get it. Someone, some nameless, faceless thing, has violated him in one of the worst ways. They’ve attacked him at his most vulnerable. They’ve hurt him.
And now they’ve been inside his home.
Leaning in, I press a kiss to his hammering pulse, which slowly calms down under the pressure of my lips. I breathe in the scent of him before pulling back.
‘We will get new things.’
‘Can’t afford,’ he tries to tell me.
I lift a brow. ‘I can. For now, wear my clothes.’
He breathes out slowly, then lifts a hand. ‘Okay.’
It means something that he doesn’t argue, and I don’t think it’s defeat.
I think he understands now just what he means to me.
I want to step back, take him home, wrap him in a weighted blanket, and make him take a nap in my favorite coffin.
Being surrounded by weight and walls always allows me to find myself again.
But that might be a bit much for him.
And the truth is, I think I need to ask him about the stalker now.
Not when he’s safe. Not when he’s calm enough to brush it off like it’s nothing or hide details.
It might be cruel to make him go through it all while everything hurts, but if I’m going to figure this out and help him, I need to know what I’m up against.
Drawing him to the living room, I flip the torn cushions over, then ease him down to sit. He’s still stiff with tension, but he continues to obey me, and I make a note to reward him for it as soon as he’s able to accept that sort of thing from me.
‘I need to ask you something.’
He nods easily, his face so open.
‘Do you know the stalker?’
He licks his lips, then rolls his gaze up to the ceiling for a moment before shrugging. ‘I don’t know.’ He’s not being entirely truthful, but I can tell he’s not lying either.
‘Not your first?’
He shakes his head. ‘Years ago, I had a cyberstalker who turned up in town. I contacted the FBI. It’s how I met Thorne.’
I frown and spell the name again. The name sounds familiar to me, but I can’t place it.
‘He lives nearby—on the farm with a man named Leaf.’
Ah, yes. I know it. He has a budding cherry orchard and the groundhog we were all warned about.
I don’t know much about him, and I don’t know how much Percy knows.
And I’m not sure how I feel about a former FBI agent being so close to us.
Or how I feel about the fact that Denver is friends with one.
But I can’t let that matter right now. ‘Tell me about Thorne.’
‘He helped me with my case. My stalker was caught and charged. Didn’t really serve time. I have a permanent order of protection.’
I almost laugh because what fucking good is that? A piece of paper has never stopped a murder before.
Bowing my head, I nod. ‘Okay. I’ll figure out the rest.’
Denver taps me on the wrist, and I look up. ‘How?’
‘We have connections.’ I have to spell that last word. I’m not sure how to convey the meaning in ASL with my slightly limited vocabulary. ‘Percy will take care of it. We will find the name, make sure it’s not same person.’
‘If it is?’ he presses.
I shrug. ‘We stop him.’
‘If it’s not?’
I shrug again. ‘Then we find out who he is and stop him.’
Different processes, same solution. I study Denver’s face for a moment for some kind of fear or worry, but he only looks stressed. After what feels like forever, he lets out a puff of air that releases with a slight hum he probably doesn’t know he’s making.
‘Thank you.’
Not what I expected him to say. I have only one answer for him, so I tug him by the shirt and lay a soft kiss on his lips. I don’t want to say that he’s welcome, because it’s more than that. I want him to learn that with me, he can expect all of this. Everything. With me, he will always be safe.
After getting out of the car, Denver comes to a complete halt a few feet away from the front door. When I beckon him forward, he stares at me, blinking, but he doesn’t respond. My heart twists in my chest as I lift my hand.
‘Wrong-wrong?’
He looks a little unsure and upset. Not that his reaction is unexpected. His world has been flipped upside down, and he hasn’t had time to cope or process what happened to both him and his apartment.
He was dead silent on the drive home, but this time, instead of sleeping, he kept his gaze fixed out the window. I thought maybe being back here would allow him some space to relax, but it seems to be doing the opposite.
I reach for him, and he steps out of my grasp, shaking his head.
“I can’t breathe,” he says, his voice rasping and hoarse.
Before I can offer to help him, he pushes past me, shoving the front door open and rushing through before I can stop him.
I follow as quickly as I can and find him in the living room with his head leaning against the far wall beside the window that overlooks the front porch.
His eyes are closed, and his breathing is labored.
I’m unsure what to do in this moment, so I wait until his eyes flicker open and he stares off into the distance.
“Leaf,” he rasps.