Page 72 of Mistletoe and Malice
“He’s insecure. Needs someone to blame. I just happened to come into the picture at the same time you told him you didn’t want to move forward with your relationship. Trevor was right. You deserve better. Someone with your same values, work ethic, and integrity. The same confidence. Someone who loves God as much as you do.”
Her skin warmed with the compliment. “That’s nice of you to say.”
“It’s just the way it is. Is he even a believer?”
“He is, but I don’t think his faith plays a big part in his daily life. I could never be serious with someone who didn’t love God more than they did me.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “Still having nightmares?”
The blood drained from her face. “What makes you ask?” His room might be next door to her suite, but it shared a wall with her study. Even if she’d cried out in the night, he shouldn’t have heard her.
“I’ve been there. The nightmares are the worst. Had them for weeks after I was shot. After a body comes so close to death, or a violent act, the mind has to compensate somehow. That’s what yours is doing.”
“When did they stop?”
“After I started talking about what happened.”
“You saw a counselor.” She lifted her mug to blow across the top of the steaming cocoa.
“While I was in rehab. I had to learn to walk again, run. All those things. They worked on the mind and the body, I guess you could say.”
Holding her cup with both hands, she took a small sip and set it back down. “You really think I should talk to a professional?”
“Yes. I do. It’s been three weeks since the attempt to abduct you, but only hours since the last note. He’s keeping it fresh in your mind. He knows the longer he draws it out, the weaker you’ll get. The more off-balance. Emotionally. Mentally.”
Nodding, she stared down at her cup. “It sure feels like it sometimes. Like I’m losing my mind.”
“I can get some names for you. Of counselors. Victims’ advocates. If you don’t already have someone in mind.”
“I don’t know of anyone. I know counselors, sure. We use them all the time for the shelter. And my parents have two goodfriends who are shrinks. But I don’t think I could let down with people I know. Who know me.”
“I’ll have some names for you tomorrow. I mean, today. Later today.”
She chuckled and took another sip. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So, couldn’t you sleep?”
He took a swallow of his chocolate. “Got hungry.”
“You should eat before you go to bed. Then maybe you’d sleep all night.”
“Not a bad idea.”
They sat and quietly enjoyed their cocoa in companionable silence for several minutes before he took the towel away from his head.
She examined the small wound above his brow, guilt-ridden she’d caused it. “I think it’s stopped.”
“Great.” He held up the towel. “I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t want Hilda to freak tomorrow morning at the sight of a bloody towel.”
She stood and reached for it. “Here. We can throw it away. She’ll never miss it.”
After dumping the ice in the sink, she threw the plastic bag and towel in the trash bin and joined him again at the table.
“Colton … I’m sorry if I said anything—wait. Let me start over. I’m sorry for what I said. On Monday, in my office. When you were trying to get me to cry? I think I pushed you away because I was feeling a little vulnerable, but at the same time, I knew you were right. I don’t blame you for taking me off the line that day. I appreciate that you were looking after me. That you’re always looking after me.”
“No apology necessary. I overstepped the parameters of our relationship. You were right to remind me of my place.”
