Page 51 of Borden 3

I shrugged, blinking fast. “Thanks for not telling Borden anything.”

Granny sighed, taking a moment to respond. “He’s going to find out, though. Won’t he?”

I looked away from Link and finally looked at her. “Yeah.”

She tapped her finger around the mug she held. “You can always just tell him what it was like back then.”

“He wouldn’t understand.”

She raised her brows. “He wouldn’t?”

I looked into my third cup of coffee. “He knows I was an alley rat, anyway.”

“He calls you alleycat.” She let out a soft chuckle. “He gets under my skin, but I can’t deny that I like the name, and the way he says it. Such passion.” She added solemnly, “He reminds me of him.”

I stilled.

“Both crazy. Both utterly selfish.” She shook her head. “Was it a wonder that I detested Borden when I met him?”

“No.”

“There are differences between them, surely.”

If she was looking for me to tell her what they were, she was wrong. “Are there?” She seemed to understand. Especially when I added, “You should tell me what they are when you figure them out.”

She watched me for some time. I was too tired to hide behind a tough facade.

I thought of my nightmares.

I wondered if sleep would ever be a thing again.

Granny fidgeted, then whispered, “Was it him then?”

As if he could hear her, I saw movement in my peripheral vision. I turned to look at Hector as he roamed the house, though his steps seemingly slowed now. He was listening to everything. Granny followed my gaze and let out a soft huff. “I don’t know how you do it, Emma. I can hardly take another minute of it.”

I didn’t blame her.

Now here I was, back at the office, and Hector was a bad smell, lingering inside the room with me. Never a reprieve.

“Gerry’s always waiting out in the corridor,” I said pointedly.

Hector had taken a seat across the desk. He was chomping down on an apple. He didn’t look like he was doing much guarding of anything.

He looked up from his phone, meeting my gaze. “I ain’t Gerry.”

“You didn’t have to tell me that,” I returned with a fake sweetness in my tone. “But seriously, I can’t focus with you around.”

“Borden is more of a distraction from what I hear.”

My cheeks burned at the double meaning. “You’re not my husband.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can you wait or stand guard or whatever it is that you do in the hallway?”

“No.”

I huffed. “Why the hell not?”

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