Page 26 of Embrace Me Forever

I stroke her back soothingly, my mind racing. “Let’s talk about that later. For now, I’m taking you to my place.”

She nods feebly, slowly withdrawing from me. I reluctantly let her go, still wanting to hold her a bit longer. I feel a strange sense of purpose—not in catching evil, but in keeping her away from harm. When was the last time I truly took care of someone? Not out of necessity, but with tenderness, with…love?

This could be my own version of shock—my mind, usually unshakeable, veering completely off-tangent.

Before we depart, I search her last bag and pull out her phone. I’m about to toss it, but her hand shoots out to stop me.

“Wait! I need to call someone.”

“You can use mine later. I don’t trust this.” I hold up her phone, emphasizing my point. “They might’ve tampered with it.”

She lets it go, her trust in me clear despite her fear. I step out of the car and smash the phone against the curb. The pieces scatter and I toss the remains into a nearby sewer hole. Now, no one can track us through it.

“How about your laptop?” I ask, climbing back into the car.

She shakes her head. “I’ve encrypted everything. No one can get in.”

I inspect the laptop for any attached devices. There’s nothing. Satisfied, I hand it back to her. “All right. You can keep it.”

We sit in silence for a moment, the hum of the car’s heater the only sound.

She responds, her tight features slowly yielding. “Thank you.”

The atmosphere between us has changed. There’s a bond forming here, something deeper than protector and protected. It’s unspoken but palpable, a connection that goes beyond the immediate danger. I don’t know where it will lead, but for now, I’m determined to see her through this.

Georgia-May hasn’t revealed much yet, but for the love of God, she’s not an evil person. Even if I set aside all my feelings for her right now, I see a desperation that speaks of someone caught in circumstances beyond her control.

“You’re welcome,” I reply, starting the car again. “Now, let’s get you to a safe place.”

I feel for her. Despite the fake information she’s given the Hartleys, something about her feels incredibly real and vulnerable.

The rest of the drive is silent, but I keep surveying her, making sure she’s holding up.

We finally arrive at my house, a simple detached property on the outskirts of L.A. I could’ve chosen Beverly Hills or Malibu,but I prefer a less conspicuous area. Despite its unassuming exterior, my home is equipped with a state-of-the-art security system.

I help Georgia-May out of the car, keeping a protective arm around her as I open the front door.

As we enter, a bark causes her to flinch and instinctively press closer to me. It isn’t fear of dogs that startles her, but the synthetic timbre of the sound.

“Oh…” She catches sight of Poppy and pauses, her eyes widening at the sight of the sleek metallic dog whose tail wags with mechanical precision. Georgia-May turns to me, an unspoken question in her gaze.

“Okay, go ahead and judge me, but I’m rarely home. And honestly, nurturing a living thing isn’t exactly my strong suit. Opting for a robot dog is me being responsible,” I justify.

She giggles. “I have nothing against a cyborg dog. I think it’s adorable—or he or she is.”

“It’s a she, her name’s Poppy. She’s supposed to be a bull terrier,” I clarify, still studying her face. “You’re thinking. Come on, you are judging me!” I jest.

Her giggles turn into a carefree smile. In another time, I could easily see her as an unwitting heart-stealer.

“No, I’m not judging!” she denies. “I just didn’t think you’d be the type who’d have a robot dog. I thought you might’ve kept?—”

“Kept what?”

“A cat. Perhaps a clingy one.”

I laugh out loud, shaking my head. Then I command, “Poppy, bed!” Obediently, the robotic canine moves to her designated spot, settling down with a quiet whir.

Georgia-May’s laughter and the quirky charm of the situation ease the earlier tension, knitting a moment ofunexpected companionship between us. And boy, don’t we both need it!

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