Chapter 15
fifteeN
I SLUMPED AGAINST HIM in relief, knowing the next question was the bigger ask. At least he'd agreed to help me figure this out.
I spoke to his left pec, unwilling to step out of his warm hold. "Can I stay with you? I don't feel safe here anymore."
He stiffened for a fraction of a second—and if I hadn't been so close I was practically sharing spleens with him—I wouldn't have felt it. I braced for a no.
"Yes," his deep voice rumbled in my ears, the vibrations through his chest making me want to sink further into him. "You can stay with me."
Tears pushed at the back of my eyelids and I supposed this was the moment I'd get overwhelmed with everything that had happened and have a mini breakdown.
I counted to seven as I inhaled, held for two and then exhaled for eight.
Tears still streamed down my cheeks, but I no longer felt on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.
Quin waited. He didn't rush me, didn't fill the silence, didn't try to fix the emotions he clearly didn't understand. He just held space. I was the one who eventually stepped back.
"Are you ready to go?"
I almost nodded, but caught myself. The furniture I'd ordered was set to be delivered later. "I need to stay today for a delivery. Can you come back after dark? You could stay, but it's furniture and they'll be coming inside."
"I can do that."
He turned to leave and I caught his forearm. "Um... like, right after dark? As soon as it's safe for you?"
He brushed my hair back with a soft knuckle. "Yes. I'll watch over you until then. Okay?"
I slumped like my strings had been cut. "Yes. Thank you."
I watched him slip out the back door, lift his nose and sniff the air.
I caught myself tracking the movement of his arms, the way muscle shifted beneath fur.
My cheeks warmed, and I looked away, annoyed with myself.
He disappeared into the trees. I went through the motions of locking the door and setting the alarm, not that either had done much good.
Quin, apparently, was quite adept at getting around my security.
So was the intruder I was ninety percent sure had been creepy neighbor.
I packed a bag with supplies for five days.
I didn't assume I'd be staying that long, but I wanted to be prepared.
The foster system forged me into an efficient packer.
Being ready to run was one of the few skills adulthood didn't beat out of me.
I always had travel bags of toiletries ready to go, and I could get everything I needed for a two-week trip into a carry-on.
As skills learned in foster care went, this one was pretty handy.
The furniture showed up on time. The couch wasn't as comfortable as it had looked online, but it would do. The TV was great, but Quin's was bigger. The delivery men were nice, but I was on edge the entire time they were in the house. I didn't relax even when they left.
Was I a plant of some sort? The thought hit me like déjà vu and dread fused together. How would they engineer a synthetic mate bond? It was mates, as in fated mates, right? That implied the fates had something to do with it. So they couldn't engineer it, could they?
Then I remembered Quin saying I smelled weird. Off. Maybe they could engineer the mechanics of the bond, but not the fated part?
I gave myself a headache. Stop spiraling. You need data, not theories. There's no way I could figure this out without help.
I went to my car and made sure I hadn't left anything important I might need later. As I walked back inside, I was tackled from behind.
Before I could yell at Quin for scaring the hell out of me again, a gloved hand slapped over my mouth. A human hand.
The glove was rough suede and scratched my cheeks. An arm wrapped around my torso like a steel band, immobilizing me. I kicked out with my legs, making solid contact once but my attacker wasn't fazed. I dropped, letting my muscles go slack. Dead weight was supposed to be harder to manage.
Not for this guy. With my head pinned against a chest, I struggled to breathe beneath his arm, and I fought again when I felt a prick in my arm. I fought to see what was happening, but I couldn't turn my head.
A masculine voice said, "Done."
I redoubled my efforts to escape.
"Don't seem done," was snarled in my ear.
"Just be happy we weren't sent to finish Kevin's job. We still don't know what happened to him."
My captor squeezed me tighter. "How much longer she gonna fight like this?"
"Ten seconds."
I counted the seconds with kicks. By four, my legs got sluggish. At seven, the world went black.