Page 18 of Stained Protector

“I heard your sister is visiting you this week,” he mentions offhandedly as he plucks a black sketchbook from the top shelf.

I swallow, regaining my voice. “For business. She’s been going back and forth. She says this contract is her test trial, so she’s doing her best. Not that it’s stopping her from complaining about the train rides.”

He’s heard plenty of conversations between my sister and me because she talks like she’s bargaining at a fish market.

The mood turns somber as he hands over the basket to the cashier. She looks at him after every scanned item, her lips slapping on a gorgeous smile, but he’s staring at the framed painting of Ramesses the Great and Queen Nefertari.

A professor had once talked about their love story on a history channel, but I was scrolling through cat videos, failing to pay attention.

“While we’re here,” he notes as he puts the bags into the car’s backseat, “we’ll stay for a while.”

We’re miles from his studio because this art supply store is the best in the city. The owner is a retired sculptor with immense expertise in art, and he sells supplies he makes from his knowledge.

Anyone who can make granite look like silk veils is a legend.

“What do you recommend?” I intone, my fingers hovering over a list of popular places in the area on my phone.

He hums as he looks about, but nothing catches his eye, so he leans over my shoulder to read the list with me. The heady scent of his new shampoo has a hint of cool citrus to it, which is flattering for the beginning of a rainy spring.

My heart plunges, galloping against my ribs as his body drapes over me. His wide shoulders block the chilly wind carrying faint raindrops stolen from glistening green leaves.

I flinch violently, my head knocking harshly on his collarbone as I curl inward. The crushing fear, biting and angry, explodes in the pit of my stomach. His hand steadies me while rubbing soothing circles on the curve of my shoulder, but it doesn’t ease the thousands of needles stabbing under my skin.

“H-he’s here,” I squeak pitifully, “I can feel him! What do I—”

He shoves my face into his chest, blocking the world from my ears as his scent rages down my lungs. It’s good, relieving even, and my mind becomes stranded on an island he’s created through his velvet voice and inescapable touches.

He rubs my head with care while threading my hair between his fingers. I loosen my cramped fingers on the back of his shirt, mindlessly stroking the tight muscles while reluctance needles into my palm.

“Do you trust your instincts?” he asks, his lips pressing lightly on the shell of my ear.

It depends on a lot of factors, so I can’t confidently say. From choosing multiple-choice answers to rushing past a yellow traffic light or narrowly missing the detached wood logs from a truck—I’ve misjudged countless times. Thank goodness none resulted in injuries.

My biggest flaw is putting people in a group based on hunches. I misunderstood Levi in the beginning, and he turned out to be one of the nicest people.

“I trust mine.” The grounding touch on my back reminds me of who he is to me right now.

A protector and a husband. I sag in his arms and close my eyes, willing away the burning that rims my lashes.

“He’s watching you.”

I don’t want to hear it anymore. I’m upset at the police, maybe with displaced anger, and I want them to catch that awful man. Who does he think he is to mess with my life?

Drop dead, I think hotly.Just die already, you trash.

He hugs me tighter, and air gushes from my gasping lips.

“We can make it look more convincing,” he suggests cryptically, “I hope I’m not overstepping, but do you prefer silver or gold?”

*

It’s too late to call it overstepping when we’re standing in front of a massive display case. Diamonds and iridescent gemstones are polished to reflect tailored detailing, and the untagged rings sit innocently on a matte black tray, giving my fingers a ghostly weight.

The illusory weight of it feels burdensome and weird on my finger.

“They all look beautiful on you,” he says, his brows furrowing with a saddened sigh.

They’re beautiful because they cost a fortune, and I’ll save a limb if they accept discounts.

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