Page 140 of Deep Tide

She switched on the stove. She’d made tea earlier, in an attempt to calm her nerves. The car ride back from the hospital with Joel had been fraught with tension as he’d forced her to repeat every detail of the account she’d given to an FBI agent at the hospital. She’d never been so rattled in her life. Joel and Owen and their mom had all implored her to stay with one of them for the night instead of being by herself. But she’d known she was headed for a crash—both physically and emotionally—and she’d wanted to be alone.

She turned around, and Sean was watching her closely. His gaze went to the bandages on her wrists, and he stepped over.

“What did the doctor say?” he asked, tracing his finger up her arm.

“I’m fine. No concussion.”

He took her right hand and gently turned it over. Her index finger was wrapped, too.

“And this?” he asked.

“Four stitches.” She tugged her hand away and rested it on his hip. “They’ll dissolve, so I don’t have to go back, which is good.”

“What did you cut it on?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t see. Something inside the shipping container.”

He stared down at her, and his hands settled on her hips. The worried look on his face made her chest ache.

“Sorry I’m late getting here,” he said.

His eyes were tired and bloodshot. He hadn’t had the benefit of a nap, like she had, and she saw the events of the last twenty-four hours—plus everything else—weighing on him.

It felt so good just standing here in her kitchen with him. She felt grateful and amazingly lucky to be safe at home with Sean’s hands resting solidly on her hips.

Lying on the floor of that Suburban in the suffocating heat, she’d had a chance to think, and second-guess, and regret so many things in her life. Her sharpest regret was about her mother—how she’d avoided so many conversations with her ever since her dad died, as though talking about him would somehow make the grief worse. Leyla had had a burst of clarity while she lay on that floor. Now, she knew that she shouldn’t have held back. She should have told her mom everything in her heart, especially how much she loved her.

Her other regret was about Sean. It had been with her in that Suburban, and it was like a sharp thorn in her heart now as she stared up at him. The moment stretched out as he held her loosely, taking care not to squeeze her.

She lifted her good hand and traced her finger over his stubbly jaw. “When do you leave?” she asked.

“That depends.”

“On?”

A whistle emanated from the teakettle. As the whistle became a shriek, she stepped over to switch the stove off and move the kettle to the back burner.

Sean took her hand and tugged her over to the chair beside her drop-leaf table. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap.

“Leyla,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around her. He rested his forehead on her chest, and she smoothed her hands over his shoulders.

He looked up at her, and the raw emotion in his eyes made her throat feel tight.

“It depends?” she asked again.

“On you.” He reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I’m taking some time off.”

“Good. You probably need it after... well, after everything. How long are you taking?”

“Four days. That’s as much as I can get for now. Even that’s a stretch, given everything going on.” He paused. “I just want to be with you right now.”

Nervous butterflies filled her stomach.

“What’s that look?” he asked.

“I’m worried.”

“Why?”

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