Page 87 of Property of Anchor

“Uh, oh.How long have you…” I hesitated.I didn’t want to sayhomelesseven though Shay seemed more than fine saying it herself.

“It’s been about seven months since I left his ass.”She leaned back and stretched her arms along the top of the couch like she didn’t have a single care in the world.“I thought I’d crash in my car for a week or two, tops.Just until I could get an apartment.But landlords want things like steady income and security deposits.”She laughed drily.“Neither of which I have.”

She glanced around the room.Her gaze landed on the bed like it was a five-star hotel mattress.“I know I should be terrified that some crazy dude might try to kill me, seeing as I was literally on a psycho’s kill list, but honestly, I’m kinda stoked to sleep in an actual bed.”She hitched her thumb in the direction of the haunted house.“I won’t even go into how cool it is that there is literally a haunted house a hundred feet away.”

That did it.Whatever grip I thought I had on my nerves?Gone.Everything about this girl, the strength, the honesty, the dark humor, hit me straight in the chest.She was a survivor no matter what.

I nodded slowly.“I get that.”

“Think I can get a hot dog and then test out that bed?”Shay grinned.

“Hell yes, you can,” I replied with a smile.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Anchor

I came out of the bathroom in nothing but boxers clinging low on my hips.The room was dark and lit only by the soft moonlight spilling through the window.Pearl was already curled up in my bed with her dark hair fanned across my pillow.Her arms were tucked under her chin like she belonged there.

Because she did.

I flipped the light off and climbed into bed beside her.The mattress dipped with my weight, and before I could get settled, she shifted and pressed herself against me, her legs tangling with mine.Her palm slid over my chest like she was checking I was real.

“You smell like that soap you keep in the bathroom,” she murmured sleepily.

“That’s usually how soap works,” I grunted and pulled her closer.

She smiled against my skin, then was quiet for a beat before speaking again.“So… am I staying with you in the clubhouse now?”

“Yeah,” I said without hesitation.“You’re not leaving my sight.”

She let out a soft hum.“I kind of liked having my own space, though.”

I looked down at her, even though I couldn’t see her expression in the dark.“There’s not a lot of room in your cabin for guards and locked doors.”

“I know,” she whispered.“It’s just… your room’s not really built for two.I’ve got my sketchpads, my canvases, my paint…”

“You want space for your art?”

She nodded against my chest.

“I can clear out one of the other rooms in the clubhouse,” I offered.“Set you up a little studio until we catch the bastard doing all this.Then, once it’s over, we’ll convert your old cabin into a real art space.Hell, I’ll build you a skylight if that’s what you want.”

She was quiet, and then I felt her shift, pulling back just enough for me to see the glint of her eyes in the dark.

“You’d really do that for me?”she asked.

I turned on my side and reached for her face, cradling her cheek in my palm.“Doll, I’m ready to burn the whole damn world down to keep you safe.Making a studio out of a cabin?That’s nothing.”

She smiled, soft and grateful, and curled into me again.We lay like that for a while.I thought maybe she was falling asleep, but then her voice broke the silence.“What about the other cabin?”

I frowned.“What about it?”

“When Bernice leaves?”she asked and sat up slightly to prop herself on her elbow to look down at me.

I squinted at her in the moonlight.“You got plans for that one, too?Rent it out or something?I’m not into outsiders staying longer than it takes to run through the haunted house.”

“Maybe,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip.“What if you let someone who isn’t really an outsider stay there?”

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