Page 206 of Choosing You

“You don’t have to. I know it’s a lot of work.”

“Jade.” Garret gives me a look like I’m hurting Charles’ feelings.

“But if you don’t mind, I would love some.”

Charles smiles. “I made some Christmas cookies if you’re hungry.”

He brings out several large containers full of every kind of cookie imaginable. It’s like I’ve died and gone to cookie heaven. I sample three, then stop so I have room for dinner.

That night when we go to bed, Garret’s dad still isn’t home. But I sleep in my own room and Garret sleeps in his. I wake up at 2 a.m. when I hear Mr. Kensington go down the hall to his room and close the door.

Now I can’t sleep. It’s dark and quiet and my mind replays all the bad things that have happened already and all the bad things that could happen in the future.

I gaze at the blue lights on the Christmas tree, trying to make myself calm and sleepy, but it doesn’t work. All I can think about is the fact that my father may try to kill me. I get a chill and pull up the blanket, wishing I had a couple more.

I hear the door open. “Garret?”

“Hey. I thought you might need some company.” He slides in next to me, kissing my cheek. “Plus, I missed you.”

I scoot into his arms until my back is against his warm chest.

“I’m really scared.” I normally wouldn’t admit that to him, but for some reason I find it easier to say at night than during the day.

“I know. That’s why I came in here. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you. Or me. Or Frank or Ryan.”

“He won’t. My dad will take care of it.”

“But what if he can’t?”

“He will. Just give him time. Now try to get some sleep.”

I turn my head back to kiss him goodnight. “Garret, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I always thought I couldn’t count on people, but you’ve kind of proved me wrong on that.” It’s another thing I’d have a hard time saying during the day. “So thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I pull his arm closer around me. “I love you, Garret. I love you a lot.”

He kisses the back of my head and I feel his warm breath in my hair. “I love you, too.”

* * *

When we wakeup later that morning, we find a note from Garret’s dad saying he went to work and will be back in the afternoon. I wonder if “work” is code word for doing whatever it is he’s doing to deal with Sinclair.

Garret and I eat breakfast, then go to the sunroom which is just a fancy name for a room with lots of windows. It hasn’t been sunny for most of December, but today it is and it feels good to just sit there surrounded by warmth. We snuggle on the sofa with a blanket.

“Do you want to go out and do something?” Garret asks.

“Are you bringing a gun?”

“Yes. You already know that.”

“Then let’s stay here. I don’t want you walking around with a gun. Why do you even need one? I’m sure that guy—my father—doesn’t even know I’m here.”

He threads his fingers with mine. “We have to be safe. The gun is just a precaution.”

“I still can’t believe that Royce Sinclair is my father. And that he drugged my mom like that for all those years. She would’ve been a different person if he’d just left her alone. I might’ve had a normal life. I wouldn’t have had her voice yelling in my head.”

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