Page 80 of Protecting Christina

“Yeah. Me, too.”

I hadn’t heard anything from the police yet. I knew it would take time before this all played out.

Maybe I should swing by the bar to make sure Tina was OK.

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed straight for the bar. Tina’s car was parked in the lot, but her boyfriend’s wasn’t. I parked my car next to hers and walked inside. A door chime rang when I opened the door and a pop song played on the radio. The place was hopping since it was after five and its busiest time.

If Tina noticed my entrance, she didn’t acknowledge it. She was busy taking an order for a large group at the back. I nodded to the bartender and ordered a scotch. “Coming right up,” he said.

He poured me two fingers of the amber drink and placed it in front of me. “Thanks,” I said and handed him a tip. His eyes widened when he noticed the amount, but didn’t argue.

Leaning back against the bar, I surveyed the room. The after-work crowd was louder but not rowdier than the after-dinner crowd. People laughed and drank and ignored those around them. I’d never been one to ignore my surroundings, even before entering the military. My father taught me that. I was aware of his presence even when I was at home—especially when I was at home.

Tina returned to the bar to place the order and waited for the drinks. She ignored me, avoiding my eyes as I stared at her. I was tempted to walk up to her and ask her if everything was OK, but instead, I finished my drink and left.

I’d done what I’d come here to do. I came to check if she was all right. Having seen her myself, I knew it to be true. She knew how to reach me if she ever needed me again.

I hoped she would never need to. But judging by the way she ignored me; I was sure she’d gone back to him. Just as I was sure she would call me again.

***

By six-thirty, I was done waiting, and I climbed inside my car and drove to Christina’s house.

I wasn’t sure what led me to drive by my old house, but I did. The porch was still the same light gray as it was when I’d painted it the summer I turned sixteen. It was the last thing I’d done to the house before I moved out a year later.

New blinds replaced the old curtains and a brand-new SUV sat in the driveway instead of my dad’s beat-up truck. Still, something inside of me wanted to walk through those doors and call out her name, hoping she would be there.

But I knew better. So, I drove on ahead.

Christina’s house stood out amongst the others. She had planted rose bushes in front of her porch and a birch tree. Her front door was painted red and her window panes were black. It was elegant and modern and most definitely reminded me of the woman who lived there.

My stomach knotted as I walked up the steps. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this conversation. When she left last night, I’d been disappointed, but not angry. A little hurt, but not exactly upset. After all, she hadn’t promised me anything.

I wondered what she was feeling. Was she angry that I’d asked that of her? Did she regret not staying? I couldn’t wait to end this agonizing uncertainty.

I rang the doorbell and a few minutes later, Christina opened the door.

She wore tight jeans and a short white T-shirt. I bit my lip as my gaze roamed up her body. When it reached her face, she raised her eyebrows and put a hand on her hip. “If you keep staring at me like that, the neighbors are going to think you’re a creep.”

“I don’t care what the neighbors think. You look beautiful.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Then she opened the door wider. “Come in.”

As I walked inside, I noted the changes she’d made since the last time I’d been to her place. There were fresh flowers inside a vase and a new painting on the wall.

She followed my gaze. “I haven’t had a chance to fix a hole those asshole bikers made, so I covered it up instead.”

The painting was a sketch of a woman in the nude, wearing only red high heels and sitting on the floor. I swallowed. “I think that was a good choice.”

She smiled as my blood pounded through my veins. Even her artwork was unpredictable. I was not ready for Christina. But I wanted her, anyway.

“Do you want something to drink?”

I shook my head. “I had one before I came here.”

“Oh,” she said and narrowed her eyes. “You went to a party?”

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