Page 68 of Even if You Fall

“Stop. It’s...” I began, the words hushed and strained as they scraped past the shards of glass in my throat. “Chloe, stop,” I finally ground out just as she finished climbing out of the bed. “Take the bed. Please. I’ll...” I struggled to swallow, then gestured toward the door. “I’m fine on the floor. But just...juststay.”

I let the pillow fall and stormed into my bathroom, dropping to a crouch to grab the gun I’d hidden in one of the cupboards. Because it suddenly didn’t feel like enough—not that I’d ever really thought it would be.

Just wishful thinking of being in a different place, and all that.

Most of us kept guns throughout our houses or apartments as precaution because we knew from first-hand experience how easily it was to be taken unaware. But all of mine were stored in a gun safe when I wasn’t carrying because I couldn’t trust myself once I fell asleep.

There wasn’t a gun safe here though.

Holstered gun in hand, I stalked back through my room and out the door, never once meeting the eyes I could feel on me. Once I made it across the house to my parents’ room, I knocked and pressed the button that would turn on a light for my dad to see. Something close to failure weaving through my fear as I waited for one of them to answer.

And when my dad did, I felt my spirit crumple because his saddened understanding told me he knew why I was standing there. Then again, we’d done this every time I’d come home with an off-duty weapon. And even though I knew he wasn’t disappointed inme, it didn’t make me feel like any lessofa disappointment.

I’d done the therapy. It hadn’t worked.

But this was more than that. I’d seen their excitement when they’d first met Chloe. They’d thought I’d met someone who could make it “go away,” as if that were possible.

Passing the gun over to him, I let him see all my dread and fear as I begged,Hide it.

The only indication I had that Adam came back to the room last night was the pillow.

When I’d woken this morning, the pillow had been placed back on the bed beside me, but he still wasn’t there, just as he hadn’t been when I’d eventually fallen asleep, long after he’d stormed out of the room, holding what I’m pretty sure was a gun.

I’d worried over it and him much longer than I probably should have. After all, he’d probably just gone to do what he and the other Shadow officers had been in the days before—standing watch outside. And it wasn’t like I would’ve known what to say to him anyway.

Not after how horrified he’d looked and sounded at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as me, simply for the sake of his comfort.

It shouldn’t have hurt as bad as it had. It shouldn’t have surprised me, considering he’d confirmed I was an easily forgettable loner. I’d just made the mistake of romanticizing him saying,“I like the real you,”when it’d probably been a condescending comment. I’d made the mistake of gettingcarried away with my thoughts when he’d leaned against me, and each time his large, tattooed hands had cradled my face.

I wouldn’t make mistakes with Adam Thatcher again.

Once I’d made it through the laborious acts of showering and getting ready for the day, all while feeling like I was seconds from falling over either out of exhaustion or from the vertigo that was so much worse than the day before, I reluctantly pulled his hoodie on since it was freezing, then heavily dropped back to the bed as I struggled to catch my breath.

This was so much more than getting dizzy off Adam Thatcher’s closeness, and part of me was truly worried there was something really wrong. But I was fine—better than. I had to be.

With a fortifying, wheeze of a breath, I shakily stood from the bed and waited until I was sure I had it together. Legs steady. Eyes bright and excited. Lips at the perfect tilt.

You got this, Chloe.

I ignored the way my hand trembled as I reached for the handle, then opened the door and headed out to the sounds of laughter and the smells of breakfast that were as enticing as they were nauseating.

But as soon as I stepped into the living room, where most of Adam’s family was gathered, everyone fell silent. Adam included.

He stilled halfway from pushing himself off the back of the plush chair he’d been leaning on. The hushed, heated conversation with his brother and brother-in-law was all but forgotten as he stared at me in a way that had heat stealing down my spine and swirling through my uneasy stomach.

And just like that, I found myself making mistakes with Adam Thatcher all over again.

“Good morning!” Ellie said as she shifted on the couch to face me. “Sleep well?”

“Ellie,” Dani hissed at her sister’s overly suggestive tone, then smacked her in the face with a pillow. “Ew.”

“Uh-um,” I said on a hesitant laugh, hating that I could feel just how red my cheeks were, even though there was absolutely no reason to be blushing right then. “Yes, actually,” I lied. “Thank you. How about you?”

“Probably better than any of you since I was the only one getting sleep,” Ellie said smugly, only to flinch when their mom came storming into the room, yelling in Spanish.

But just as quickly as Mrs. Thatcher entered the room, she offered me a kind smile and said, “Good morning, sweet Chloe. How’d you sleep?”

“Great, thank you,” I told her with a smile that felt so, so shaky. “That’s such a comfortable bed.”

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