Page 74 of High Density

“There’s your motive,” Stephanie deduces.

Chapter Twenty-Three

JD

By the timeI feel her stirring in my arms, gentle sunlight is already starting to filter through the curtains.

I haven’t slept much. It’s almost like I’m afraid if I let down my guard, some other threat is going to materialize.

Yesterday was chaos.

My peaceful patch of land invaded, the woman I was supposed to be protecting attacked, and federal agents in my house and around my property. Quiet returned around the time the sun set, but my body remained restless and my mind wouldn’t stop churning out images of Janey, bloodied and broken, her vibrant blue eyes dull and unseeing.

My first instinct had been to pack Janey in my truck and hit the road. Take her somewhere where no one would think to look for us. Of course, not exactly a reasonable option.

Agent Kramer’s assurances both Jericho and Mackey would remain safely in FBI custody helped. As did my father’s calming presence. I’d called him to bring over boards so we couldtemporarily cover the broken sliding doors, and working side by side with him to make the trailer secure was a productive way to channel my lingering anxiety.

But the moment he left and it was just Janey and me, my muscles tensed up and my senses went on high alert. I had a hell of a time projecting calm confidence for Janey’s sake. After all, she’s the one who endured the trauma.Again.

So when we turned in for the night, I wrapped myself around her and watched over her while she slept.

I’m not stupid, I recognize it for what it is, I’m just not sure why I should experience a stress response to someone else’s trauma. I’ve fucking spent all night practicing deep breathing, trying to calm the erratic beating of my heart.

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

Janey’s soft voice and the gentle touch of her hand on my chest are soothing.

“Some.”

“Liar,” she returns, pushing herself up a little to look at me. “Your body is like a loaded spring. I can feel the tension in the muscles under your skin.

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

The long night has obviously given guilt a chance to settle at the forefront of my mind. But Janey doesn’t hesitate to set me straight.

“Stop,” she commands. “I’m responsible for myself. I’m responsible for my choices, and I’m the one who chose to sit outside on the deck after you left, making myself an easy target. Don’t take on shit that doesn’t belong to you.”

“Still, I was supposed to?—”

“Nothing,” she cuts me off. “You weren’tsupposedto do anything. Not that I don’t appreciate you looking out for me and taking care of me when I’m down, but don’t treat me like I’m a job—an assignment—because that feels like an insult to me.”

“An insult?” I echo, a bit taken aback. “I care about you.”

“And I care about you, but if this is anything other than a two-way street, where we are equal partners and look out for each other when the need arises, count me out.”

I’m not going to lie, that stings. Mainly because I can’t imagine turning my back on her for any reason, I’m already too far gone.

Needing a moment to get my head together and avoid saying something I might come to regret; I swing my legs out of bed and head for the bathroom. Hopping in the shower, I brace myself against the wall and let the water pound down on my neck and back, trying to relieve some of the tension in my muscles.

I told Pa last night I wouldn’t be in today, but maybe a solid day of physical labor will be good for me. I need to get out of my head before I risk fucking up what is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t just care about Janey, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her and have been for a while. After being so patient in waiting for the right time to approach her, it would be a tragedy if I messed things up now.

I lift my head at the swoosh of the shower curtain sliding aside, revealing Janey, naked as the day she was born. The bruising and the cut on her face have become an almost familiar sight, but the injury to her leg stands out in stark contrast to her pale skin.

“You’re not supposed to get your stitches wet,” I caution her as she steps into the shower behind me.

“It’s been forty-eight hours,” she reminds me of what the nurse mentioned when Janey was discharged.

Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around me from behind, her hand sliding down to grasp around my rapidly growing cock.

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