Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Another long week. Waiting. Watching. Wondering when the next call might come. When the next message might arrive in her stack of mail.
Sighing in the dark, Riley rolled onto her back and clasped her hands on her stomach.
Wednesday’s call still made her skin crawl.
The way he’d described what she’d been wearing the day before, down to the cross pendant around her neck, put her on notice that he’d been close. Too close. And they’d had no idea.
This afternoon, another package had arrived, like clockwork, two days after his last with that bone-chilling photo of the line at the donor drive. Today’s missive included a pen from her purse.
After John phoned with that bit of unwelcome news, she’d dumped her bag onto her desk and scoured the contents to determine if anything else was missing.
Everything appeared to be accounted for, so, hopefully, those were the only two items he’d picked up during his getaway. Along with his gun, unfortunately.
Shaking off the memory, she instead turned her focus to the progress they’d made on Shane’s case. Precious little, to her frustration.
Her meeting early on with his previous defense team hadn’t helped much. She disagreed with almost every decision they’d made but didn’t argue. Their part was over, but they hadn’t made it easy for her with their sloppy investigation.
Shane and his parents had certainly wasted their money on his former representation. But to keep his family from going further into debt, she’d anonymously paid the balance of his bill.
With another sigh, she threw her legs over the side of the bed, grabbed her Bible, and headed for the door. A cup of hot chocolate and some time spent in the Psalms should be the balm she needed to help her relax.
After making her way through the dark and quiet house, she pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. It banged into something and popped back at her.
“Ugh.”
Her hand flew to her mouth at the pain-filled grunt. Tentatively, she reached out again and pushed it forward ever so slowly. The overhead light came on, and she blinked in the sudden brightness.
“Colton!”
Standing a few feet away, he grimaced as he held a hand to his eye.
She hurried to the island and put her Bible down on the counter. “I’m so sorry.”
“S’okay.” He took his hand away, glanced at it, and put it back.
“Oh, no, you’re bleeding. Let’s get some ice for that, or you’ll have one whopper of a goose egg.”
She grabbed a paper towel and took him by the arm to walk him to the table. She nudged his hand away from the cut over his right eyebrow and pressed the towel to it. “Hold this here. I’ll get some ice.”
“Really, Riley. It’s not necessary.”
She ignored his protest as she grabbed several cubes out of the freezer and put them in a plastic bag she rolled up in a dish towel.
“Here.” She moved his hand again, taking the paper towel with it, and put the make-shift ice pack gently against his forehead. “This should keep the swelling down.”
“Thanks.”
She stood next to him holding the towel. He’d once again made a middle-of-the-night visit to the kitchen in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, this one touting the Houston Astros logo.
“I really am sorry, Cole. I didn’t notice any light coming from under the door.”
“I’d just flipped it off a few seconds before you came in.”
“And almost knocked you flat. I feel terrible.”
“You shouldn’t. It’s not a big deal.”
“I just can’t stand that I hurt you.” In more ways than one.
“Riley, chill.” He took the towel from her. “I’ll hold it. You do whatever it was you came down here to do.”
“Well … all right. I was going to make myself some hot chocolate. Would you like some?”
“Actually, yeah. That sounds good.”
“Coming right up.”
She busied herself with her task, concentrating on the hum of the refrigerator to give her heart rate a chance to slow to its natural rhythm.
They hadn’t been alone since that morning in her office.
The day she’d been terrified and he’d tried to help, and all she wanted was for him to hold onto her.
Wrap her in his arms where nothing could touch her.
Her comment about his doing his job hadn’t been meant to hurt him.
She’d needed to get her perspective on track, remind herself of his place in her life.
Because, if truth be told, she’d been considering him less her bodyguard and more like someone …
special. Even knowing the futility of such thinking.
“Have you been working all this time?” His question cut into the silence.
“Nope. Just can’t get my mind to shut down.” She stirred hot milk into two cups with powdered hot chocolate mix. Maybe it wasn’t the from-scratch stuff Hilda made, but it always did the trick in the middle of the night.
“Tell me you’re not losing sleep over Graham of the Fort Worth Hardings.”
Chuckling, she shook her head. “Not Graham. I feel bad he was hurt, but you were right. I should’ve said something a long time ago.”
“He’s a big boy. He’ll survive.”
“No doubt. But our friendship won’t, I don’t believe.” She walked their cups over to the table and put one in front of him before taking a seat. “So, if I may ask, what did he say to you? On his way out that night?”
He shrugged, still holding the towel-wrapped ice pack to his head. “Nothing really. Seems to have the idea I had something to do with you sending him packing.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t even mention you.”
“He’s insecure. Needs someone to blame. I just happened to come into the picture at the same time you told him you didn’t want to move forward with your relationship.
Trevor was right. You deserve better. Someone with your same values, work ethic, and integrity.
The same confidence. Someone who loves God as much as you do. ”
Her skin warmed with the compliment. “That’s nice of you to say.”
“It’s just the way it is. Is he even a believer?”
“He is, but I don’t think his faith plays a big part in his daily life. I could never be serious with someone who didn’t love God more than they did me.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “Still having nightmares?”
The blood drained from her face. “What makes you ask?” His room might be next door to her suite, but it shared a wall with her study. Even if she’d cried out in the night, he shouldn’t have heard her.
“I’ve been there. The nightmares are the worst. Had them for weeks after I was shot. After a body comes so close to death, or a violent act, the mind has to compensate somehow. That’s what yours is doing.”
“When did they stop?”
“After I started talking about what happened.”
“You saw a counselor.” She lifted her mug to blow across the top of the steaming cocoa.
“While I was in rehab. I had to learn to walk again, run. All those things. They worked on the mind and the body, I guess you could say.”
Holding her cup with both hands, she took a small sip and set it back down. “You really think I should talk to a professional?”
“Yes. I do. It’s been three weeks since the attempt to abduct you, but only hours since the last note. He’s keeping it fresh in your mind. He knows the longer he draws it out, the weaker you’ll get. The more off-balance. Emotionally. Mentally.”
Nodding, she stared down at her cup. “It sure feels like it sometimes. Like I’m losing my mind.”
“I can get some names for you. Of counselors. Victims’ advocates. If you don’t already have someone in mind.”
“I don’t know of anyone. I know counselors, sure. We use them all the time for the shelter. And my parents have two good friends who are shrinks. But I don’t think I could let down with people I know. Who know me.”
“I’ll have some names for you tomorrow. I mean, today. Later today.”
She chuckled and took another sip. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So, couldn’t you sleep?”
He took a swallow of his chocolate. “Got hungry.”
“You should eat before you go to bed. Then maybe you’d sleep all night.”
“Not a bad idea.”
They sat and quietly enjoyed their cocoa in companionable silence for several minutes before he took the towel away from his head.
She examined the small wound above his brow, guilt-ridden she’d caused it. “I think it’s stopped.”
“Great.” He held up the towel. “I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t want Hilda to freak tomorrow morning at the sight of a bloody towel.”
She stood and reached for it. “Here. We can throw it away. She’ll never miss it.”
After dumping the ice in the sink, she threw the plastic bag and towel in the trash bin and joined him again at the table.
“Colton … I’m sorry if I said anything—wait.
Let me start over. I’m sorry for what I said.
On Monday, in my office. When you were trying to get me to cry?
I think I pushed you away because I was feeling a little vulnerable, but at the same time, I knew you were right.
I don’t blame you for taking me off the line that day.
I appreciate that you were looking after me. That you’re always looking after me.”
“No apology necessary. I overstepped the parameters of our relationship. You were right to remind me of my place.”
“But your place over these last few weeks has been right next to me, and I feel safe knowing you’re there. Not only as part of my protection detail, but as my friend. And I don’t put parameters on friendships.”
“But our relationship is a professional one. I need to keep that in mind, or I’m no good to you.”
Her heart squeezed. Of course that’s how he viewed their relationship. It made perfect sense. She was the job. His job. And like he’d told her that first night, he was good at it. She didn’t know how she would’ve handled the last four weeks without his steadfast presence. His constant protection.
“It meant a lot to me, praying with you. Really, Colton, I won’t forget it.”