Page 51 of The Space Between
She hesitates at the door. “Do you think he’s going to come back here for me?”
“I think he’s someone who doesn’t give up control easy. And you took yours back.”
She looks down at her hands. Her knuckles are white from gripping the towel looped around her wrist. “I don’t want him to take it, again.”
“He won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I’m not promising, Blakelyn. I’mensuring.”
She nods.
I don’t kiss her. Not this time. I just press my hand to her cheek and look her straight in the eye and say, “You’re not alone anymore.”
Closing her eyes, she leans into my touch and whispers, “Okay.”
I head into town,when the sun is touching the tops of the trees and the heat is so aggressive it feels like a punch in the face.
It’s the first time I’ve been into Juniper Falls for something other than gas, the library, or a supply run in months.
People notice. They nod. Wave. Some don’t even try to pretend they’re not surprised to see me on Main Street indaylight like a normal person. At the general store, I pick up extra locks. Motion lights. A set of battery-powered cameras. At the hardware shop, I grab heavy-duty nails, anchors, and a second hammer. When I get back to my truck, I double-check the tool bag and the crowbar, just in case.
If Tyler’s is stupid enough to show up, I’m going to be ready and I’m not waiting until she’s terrified, again, to act.
When I get backto the cabins, I install the lights and cameras around both. I don’t ask her. I just do it.
She comes out when I’m halfway through.
“You’re setting up security?” She asks with furrows between her brows.
“Yeah.” I reply.
Her face tightens. “You think he’s coming and I need all of this?” She waves at the lights and motion detectors.
“I think it’s better to be over-prepared than too late.”
She doesn’t argue.
Instead, she kneels down beside me and holds the ladder steadily while I mount the last sensor above her front door.
We don’t talk while I work but her hands don’t tremble when they grip the ladder frame. That’s progress. When I step down, she’s still there… not running… not hiding… just here.
I’mon my porch with a beer in one hand and my phone in the other listening to the night sounds when my contact calls.
“Got something.”
“Talk.”
“Your guy’s not working. Laid off. Filed for unemployment three weeks ago.”
My throat goes tight. “He has access to teacher records?” I ask.
He says, “It’s honestly not hard to find. Anyone with any kind of computer knowledge can get it if they look hard enough. It’s a public school.”
I grit my teeth. “Great. Where is he?”
“Still in Austin. But I’ll keep an eye out. If he moves, you’ll know.”
