Page 29 of Mountain Protector

What I didn’t say is that I never fell asleep to begin with. That I felt the furthest thing from okay.

And I definitely didn’t say that I’d spent the last ten hours on the verge of a panic attack.

How embarrassing. After all my claims of being strong and independent, as soon as I was alone, I crumbled.

Yesterday I thought I was doing pretty well, all things considered. I was still in shock, my arm hurt, andI had a chill I couldn’t shake, but as I kept reminding myself, it could have been so much worse. And I had great company to distract me from the memories that tried to worm their way in—Knox, of course, and the welcome surprise of Winter, as well.

While Knox was over at Enzo’s house for his meeting, Winter and I watched half ofLights On for Christmaswhile we chatted about our favorite books and devoured nearly the entire box of cookies. As we looked at the two lone cookies remaining, Winter turned pink as she exclaimed, “Oh, Lark. These were supposed to be for you to enjoy later! And here I am eating them. I’m sorry.”

I didn’t mind. It was the first time since the break-in when my appetite felt close to normal. “It’s fine,” I reassured her with a smile. “You were right. Cookiesarenecessary.”

Having Winter over felt normal. Like I wasn’t in hiding from a gunman who tried to kill me, but just hanging out with a new friend.

And Knox.

He was the best part of yesterday. If not for Knox spending nearly the entire day here, I’m not sure I would have held things together nearly as well. He came back right after his meeting and spent the rest of the evening here, sharing the delicious chicken soup he made and watchingElfwith me.

“Isn’t it too early?” he asked when I suggested watching it. “I thought there was a rule about Christmas movies? Like not watching them until after Thanksgiving or something?”

“Nope,” I replied. “In my rule book, once it gets toNovember, holiday movies are fair game. Unless—” I backpedaled, realizing just because I love Christmas doesn’t mean everyone does. “If you’d rather watch something else, that’s fine, too. One of those car racing movies you’ve talked about. Or something with robots.”

“No way.” Knox smiled at me, his eyes crinkling around the corners. “If you want to watchElf, that’s what we’re watching.” Then he caught my hand and gave it a small squeeze. “And I love Will Ferrell. Any movie with him in it is good.”

As we watched the movie, we somehow migrated closer and closer together on the couch until our legs kept brushing against each other with every small shift of our bodies. And I was hyper aware of each contact, just the brief sensation of our knees rubbing together or my thigh touching his was enough to send a rush of heat up my leg and into my belly.

In all the other times we’d spent together, it never went that far. We’d eat dinner or talk, always with a respectable space between us. We never hugged hello or goodbye, and save for our first meeting when we shook hands, I avoided physical contact without even realizing it.

I thought I didn’t want it. I thought it was safer that way. But now that I’ve felt Knox’s arms around me, held hands with him, sat almost flush next to him on the couch for hours… I’m not sure I want to go back to the other way again.

But I may not have a choice. Knox spending hours protecting and entertaining me isn’t a permanent thing. Once the gunman is caught—I’m sure he will be, it’s just a question of when—I’ll go back to my regular life andKnox won’t have a reason to spend so much time with me.

So I need to get my act together and get used to being on my own again. I need to find the old Lark, who enjoyed time to herself and wanted to live in an isolated cabin in the middle of the woods.

Except… maybe not just yet.

Because last night? It was pretty awful.

Once Knox left to go home, I thought I’d be good. It was already past ten PM, I’d been up for well over twenty-four hours with only snippets of naps, so I was certain I’d snuggle into the cozy queen-sized bed upstairs and fall asleep within minutes.

Not quite. Even though IknewI was safe, with the cabin fully armed and countless cameras and alarms positioned all over the GMG property—and a scale-proof fence around the majority of it—my brain couldn’t accept it.

Every tiny noise was the intruder coming back for me. The hum of the heat kicking on was the sound of him humming as he walked up the stairs. And the second I’d close my eyes they’d pop open immediately, certain I was about to see him looming in the bedroom doorway, his gun pointed straight at me. With each reassurance I gave myself, the scared voice in my mind whisperedwhat if?

What if the gunman somehow bypassed all the security? What if he busted through the gate with a giant truck? What if he went to Enzo’s house first and hurt them? What if he showed up at my cabin covered in blood after shooting two of the people who selflessly volunteered to shelter me?

It was maddening. The logic I’d always relied on was gone, replaced by a primal panic that made me jump at tiny noises and convinced me I was seconds from being attacked again.

After two fruitless hours in bed, I finally gave up and came downstairs to watch repeats of old Hallmark Christmas movies until the sun came up.

So the takeaway is I’m not feeling great. I’m exhausted, my stomach is in knots, my arm is aching, and I can’t seem to take a full breath. But when Knox asked me how I was doing, my default answer was I’m doing okay. What else could I say that wouldn’t make him feel bad?

But now he’s on his way over, and I’m really hoping I look better than I feel. He had a holdup with one of the job sites, so he’s not getting here until almost four, which he apologized profusely about several hours ago.

He called, his voice dripping with apology as he explained, “I’m so sorry, Lark. I didn’t mean to stay away for so long. A couple of the guys on my crew got sick, so we’re way understaffed. I’m trying to get there as soon as I can.”

I understand. I’ve had chaotic days at work when I’ve stayed almost to midnight. And it’s not Knox’s fault I’m having a bad day.

My phone buzzes, and I lunge forward to grab it off the coffee table, hoping it’s not Knox saying he’s delayed even longer.

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