Page 158 of In the Air Tonight

“You can’t because of all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“Don’t do that. You’ve given me so much. Things I’ve never had before.” I can’t stop touching every part of her that I can reach. Her gorgeous face, her silky hair, the hand that holds mine so tightly. “They’re going to move us to a safe house until the trial.”

“You’ll hate that. Your work is at home.”

“I can bring it with me.”

“This is so disruptive to your life.”

“Yes, it is,” I say with a smile. “You’re the best disruption ever.”

“I’m being serious.”

“As am I.” I kiss the back of her hand. “I’ve never been more serious about anything.”

They release her at ten o’clock that night with orders to follow up with an orthopedic doctor tomorrow about her badly sprained wrist.

Houston is waiting for us outside the ER doors.

Fenway goes crazy in the backseat when she sees us coming toward the car.

A nurse is pushing Blaise in a wheelchair while I follow, carrying a plastic bag full of the possessions she arrived with.

I help the nurse get her settled in the front seat and put the seatbelt on her, moving carefully so I won’t hurt her. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Fenway’s nose comes through the space between the headrest and the door, her tongue lashing at Blaise.

“I’m here, baby girl.” She reaches up to rub Fenway’s nose. That earns her a wet lick to the palm of her hand.

I get into the backseat. “Move over, girl.”

She’s so happy to see me that she does what she’s told for once.

“I hope she hasn’t driven you crazy,” I say to Houston.

“Not at all. She’s been a very good girl. We stopped by to see my parents and played some fetch in the yard.”

“She must’ve loved that.”

“She did. She had us laughing with her enthusiasm.”

“Thank you again for taking care of her for us.”

“It was definitely my pleasure.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I’m taking you to the safe house in Cranston for tonight. We’ve got the basics for you there. Tomorrow, a State Police officer will take you home to pack the rest of what you need. They’ve positioned two officers at your place in revolving twenty-four-hour watches.”

“What do we know about the truck that hit Blaise?”

“It belongs to Ryder’s father. We’re looking for him.”

“What?” Blaise whispers.

“He’s not new to trouble.” Houston glances at me in the rearview mirror. “He was arrested the first time Ryder was charged for harassing Denise’s family.”

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