Page 8 of Psycho

Or dig them out myself.

The how didn’t matter to me.

So, I gently brushed my fingers over the softness of her dark red hair, trying to memorize the texture of it, before I shook my arm under her head, waking her.

She turned and stretched like a napping cat and ended up on her back, facing up at me and as her eyelids fluttered open, while I stared down at her. My appearance must have been unsettling, a creepy, lingering lurker; but the sight of her, ethereal and beautiful, was impossible to ignore.

“Jesus Christ.” She gasped, sitting up and throwing herself toward the door to create space between us.

“Good morning,” I smirked, and then looked away as she tried to get her bearings. “You sleep like the dead.”

Olivia wiped her sleeve over the trail of drool still lingering at her lip and looked around outside the truck. “Where are we?” She asked.

“The apartment.” I answered. The dark private parking garage under the building gave little away and I kind of liked the way she hesitated to jump out.

“I’m so fucking lost.” She chirped as I lifted her bags out of the truck and motioned for her to follow me.

I explained some things as we walked up to the door. “We monitor the building around the clock with top-notch security, and we restrict parking garage access to tenants only.” She looked over her shoulder, noting that only my truck sat in the empty lot and then followed in after me. “Doors are all coded, as well as the stairwells and other exits.”

“Jesus.” She sighed as I typed in the third code since walking in to gain access to the elevator. “Wait a second.” She hesitated as I ushered her into the elevator. I knew she’d probably recognize the place eventually. “This is—”

“My building.” I responded, clicking the top floor where the apartments were. Mine and now hers.

“Yours—” She pressed her back into the wall as the car climbed up to the sixth floor.

I leaned against the other wall and stared at her, “Mine.”

“Does anyone else live inyourbuilding?”

“Just you.” I ushered her out into the hallway she recognized from leaving last week and led the way down the long corridor. “I bought it a few years ago and I’m renovating it from the top down.”

She silently watched me as I walked past my door and went further down to the only other door across the hall from mine. Waiting for her to speak was painful, but I recognized her keeping those same damn thoughts and feelings locked downtight inside of herself, so I just kept leading her the only way I knew how.

By taking care of her.

Opening the door to her new apartment, I stepped aside and let her go first. It was far bigger than the one I lived in across the hall, but that was because mine was a studio and I didn’t need extra space; yet she would. Silently, I watched her, my breath held, as she slowly took in the space, her eyes darting from a plush velvet sofa to an intricately carved desk; I tried to gauge her reaction from the subtle twitch of her lips. Liv was essentially a stranger, but it didn’t stop me from studying her. I wanted to crack that hard exterior she hid behind, though I didn’t know why I cared.

“What do you think?” I walked past her, leading her to the primary bedroom—the scent of fresh linen filling the air—setting her bags down on the end of her bed. “Will this work?”

She finally looked up at me, and those big doe eyes staring up at me struck me again. She whispered, “It’s too much,” Glancing at the enormous bed again almost longingly. “I can’t stay here.”

“It’s here or Hartington.” I reminded her, crossing my arms across my chest, daring her to challenge me, because we both knew I was right.

A nervous swallow escaped her lips, her eyebrows jumping as she turned away, trying to mask the secret behind her eyes. I walked up behind her, brushing my fingers lightly against her shoulder before I turned her to face me. But then I wish I hadn’t.

Tears, thick and hot, streamed down her plump cheeks, escaping the pressure of her tightly squeezed eyelids. The urge to make them stop was foreign, but no different from the urge to remove my hand from a burning fire. I acted without thought, brushing my thumb over the swell of one cheek and then the other. Instead of removing my hands, I cradled her head in them, noting how she was so small that they dwarfed her. Andthen those bright green eyes opened, and the emotion in them overwhelmed me.

Fear.

Remorse.

And something that looked a lot like anger.

“Talk to me.” I urged quietly, “Tell me what’s happening inside of this brilliant mind of yours.”

Her shoulders shook, and she closed her eyes, tilting her head down to look away from me. To hide herself from me.

I fucking hated how that made me feel. Sure, I was used to women shying away from me whenever I came around, but with Olivia, it didn’t feel like she was hiding from me but hiding herself.

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