Page 118 of The Spider & the Storm

“I'd say most likely,” Max replied with a nod, pausing the feed to the point where the blur was in the center of the screen.

He enlarged the image, trying to get a clearer shot of the intruder's head and face. But it was too washed out from a nearby lamppost, and all any of us could see was a general silhouette.

“I'm sorry I can't do better,” Max muttered, disappointed and as aggravated as I felt.

“Not your fault,” I replied, blowing my anger out through my nose in a feeble attempt to slow my heart rate.

“I can try and look through—”

“No, it's all right,” I muttered, straightening my back and smoothing my hands over the crown of my head.

“I'll keep a better watch on the gates.” He nodded to himself, rubbing a hand over his chin. “And maybe I'll talk to the powers that be about getting some better alarms. This”—he tapped the frozen image of our intruder—“should've been enough. They're supposed to go off if someone goes over the fence—”

“So, he could still be in here?” Stormy's voice rose with worry.

Max glanced over his shoulder to offer her the first smile I'd ever seen on his face. “I highly doubt it. He was spotted,so he’d be more paranoid about hanging around. But just to be on the safe side, I'll keep watch over the house. Keep the doors locked and the alarm on. Give me a call if anything else happens.”

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor and crossing my arms tightly over my chest, as if that alone could seal me off from the outside world and bring that ignorant sense of security back to my life.

But that ignorance had been a blindness to the truth, one that I hadn't wanted to acknowledge. It was no different than my unrequited feelings for the women of my past, just a blanket to cover my eyes from what was right in front of me.

I had never been safe here. But I saw that now, and this time, I wasn't going to be driven from my home.

***

We managed to carry everything into the house in one trip, and after crossing the threshold, I made sure the lock and dead bolt were both secured. Then, I set the alarm, and even though I knew damn well that a villain with enough motive could get past any obstacle, I felt better with these things in place than I would without.

Behind me, Stormy was assessing the pile of her belongings, her hands on her hips and her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. Overwhelmed, she blew out a deep breath and lifted her shoulders to her ears.

“I don't even know where to begin with all of this shit,” she admitted.

I walked past her toward the kitchen, my mind elsewhere. “You don't have to worry about it now.”

“I know, but I don't want to feel like I'm imposing. Or taking up too much of your space. This is a lot of stuff. I—”

I turned and walked backward, lifting the side of my mouth in a strained smile. “The least of my concerns right now is your stuff taking over, believe me.”

Her lips pressed tight, and she offered a soft nod before saying, “If it makes you feel any better, you have no idea that this guy will even come back. Or that he even cares about you in the first place.”

I had to admit, she was right. I could've mentioned the random findings around the house, but to assume it had been him to leave them was just that—an assumption. And a completely unfounded one at that, apart from the cigarette he'd held in his hand.

The cigarette …

Lifting my hand and rubbing at my brow, I focused every last ounce of my attention on that tiny glimpse of memory.

The way he hung his hand limply at his side as he sent a stream of smoke into the air, illuminated only by the glow of the lamppost …

It was a trigger, one that left my stomach feeling hollow and strange. But it was one that meant nothing—I was sure of it—and I had to let it go.

“So, um …” I wiped the back of my hand beneath my nose as I remembered I'd been on my way to the kitchen for something. “Anyway, are you hungry? I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“I could eat,” Stormy said, following me into the kitchen slowly, almost cautiously.

I opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of rice. “I'm about due to run to the grocery store, so the cupboards are a little bare,” I explained apologetically. “But I think I still have a bag of vegetables in the freezer, if you're okay with some stir-fry.”

“That's fine with me.”

I dropped the box on the counter and headed for the freezer as Stormy came to stand at the island. Her stare heated my back as I pulled out the bag of mixed vegetables, and when I turned, I found the intensity in her eyes too much to look into directly. So, I diverted my gaze to grab my wok from the pot rack hanging above the countertop and headed for the stove.

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