Page 59 of Somebody's Watching Me
He sounded so broken, and she scrunched the blanket against her mouth so she wouldn’t respond. So, she wouldn’t tell him he was wrong.
“What happened last night was terrifying, and even though we’re not…us any longer, you can talk to me,” he promised quietly. “And I’m sorry. I should have told you I accepted the job offer from Samuel. It should have never been kept a secret.”
“Why did you do it?” Her voice sounded small. “You knew it would be hard for both of us.”
“If I have to resign myself to being a satellite living and breathing in your orbit,” his head dropped, eyes searching her curled up form, “then so be it. I can accept that just to make sure you’re safe.”
Beyond all sense of emotional preservation, she asked the question burning through her. “I know you said you were sleeping in here, but where exactly?”
He didn’t hesitate. “The chair. Unless you want me in the bed.”
Tugging the sheet over her head, she drew upon the coldness etched in her heart. It had sunk its claws into the useless organ six months ago, preparing her for moments like this. “You know where the spare blankets are.”
She listened as he settled down to sleep. Knightly eventually abandoned her to be with him, and she didn’t blame the butthead. Having Liam near had her relaxing so deeply that the next thing she knew, she was outside, standing on Haven’s porch.
The roar of chainsaws carried over the lawn, and Jamison squinted against the sun, raising a hand to block its unforgiving rays. Everything around her lay in ruins, with fallen trees and utter chaos covering the beautiful landscape.
Two men in the distance worked on a massive oak, cutting its dead body with chainsaws. From where she stood, Jamison could make out the face of one of the men.
“Ty!” She waved frantically. “Ty!”
“They can’t hear you.”
Ah, so it was to be one of those dreams.
Turning slowly around, Jamison smiled at the petite woman rocking leisurely in one of Haven’s porch chairs.
“They get going with those chainsaws and can’t hear anything,” the woman said. “Come sit with me for a minute. I hardly see any of your kind this close to the house. The haint usually keeps y’all away.”
The woman was beautiful, but that was her bias talking. Taking a hesitant step and then another, Jamison made her way to the front of the house.
“It’s a mess out there.”
The woman nodded, and Jamison tried not to stare as she lowered herself into a second rocking chair. It was amazing how her mind could combine all the tiny details she’d learned through the years to create such a detailed replica.
“What’syour name?” the woman asked.
“Jamison.”
“Oh, that’s pretty.” The woman swatted at her hair blowing about in the wind, the color of it matching Jamison’s almost perfectly. “I’ve never heard it used as a girl’s name.”
“It’s with an i and not an e.”
“Even better.”
The men’s laughter carried over, and the woman clucked her tongue. “We had a bad hurricane come through this morning, and yet, those two are acting like a couple of kids breaking out their tools when they saw that the trees needed sorting.” She stretched with a yawn. “But we’ll make Haven beautiful again.”
“You will.”
Sitting forward, the woman gave Jamison a thorough examination. “Does this place belong to you?”
“I’m sorry?”
The woman smiled, and it increased her beauty tenfold. “Are you a Fairweather?”
“Yes?”
“Do you live in the forest with the others?”
