Page 40 of Stay Close
“Whatever you say,” I murmur, changing course.
The farther away I get from having been thrown down a staircase, the more my muscles protest. I sit heavily on the side of the bed, and Edie crouches, slipping my shoes off. She helps me slide between the sheets and arranges pillows, stuffing them around my body so I won’t shift.
“I should get you a water bottle with a straw,” she frets.
“The painkillers are doing their job.” I grunt a laugh and wince at the pain in my ribs. “I just need a good night’s sleep.”
She pulls the covers up, and I grip her wrist when she turns.
“Stay here,” I say, tipping my chin toward the other side of the bed. “I want to talk.”
“I’m not sure there’s room,” she says, smiling at all the pillows pushing me into the center of the bed.
“I’ll make room,” I answer, patting the covers.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Trust me, no one can sleep on that couch.”
She bites her lip. “I don’t want to disturb you.”
“You already disturb me.”
She shakes her head, the smile flashing briefly. “Stop it. You need sleep.”
I wince and try to look as helpless as possible, like I have no idea how to fieldstrip a gun blindfolded. Gideon would dock my pay if he saw me now. My voice breaks slightly. “I need you.”
Her brow lifts, but eventually she nods, padding off to the bathroom to wash up. I’m left with my thoughts, reliving the moment when it could have gone so disastrously wrong. What if I hadn’t turned? What if I’d been knocked out by that table? A million things might have happened, and Edie has only thought of two or three.
After brushing her teeth and changing into pajamas—a flannel striped set—she returns, slipping into the other side of the bed. I reach across the pillows. With my battered body and bruised face, I must look a mess.
“Well?” I ask.
“I was scared for you,” she admits, lacing her fingers in mine.
Too scared? My job isn’t for the faint of heart. Every day brings a new challenge, some unexpected development. That’s what I love about it. I rarely return from an assignment with my body covered in cuts and bruises, but it’s always a risk.
My thumb runs across the back of hers and my stomach tightens. These are the highest stakes I’ve ever faced.
She breathes gently. “I’ve spent the whole month worried about what might happen to you,” she says. My mind is blocking every particle of unnecessary input. I hold myself with the same tense seriousness I’d use when closing the door of a panicroom. “And then I saw you fight.” Her eyes light up. “You’re really good at that. You know what you’re doing.”
I take a deep, painful breath and rest a hand on my chest. “That doesn’t always mean the difference between being safe and getting hurt,” I tell her. “He almost had me today.” She has to know.
“You always tell me the truth, too.” Edie nods, her cheeks pink. “Every time I thought he was going to bring you down, you kept moving, kept opening up new opportunities to strike.”
I sound like a superhero when she describes it. I smile. Even though I was dying for sleep twenty minutes ago, I can’t let her out of my sight.
Suddenly, she reaches over the pillows and gives me a light kiss, too fast to take advantage, even if I could. “So that’s what we do. We keep moving. We adapt. I don’t know what obstacles will arise, but I know I can trust us.”
I nod then shift, setting my teeth against the pain, removing the barriers between us, and tossing them to the floor.
“Come here,” I say, tugging her into my arms.
I wonder if she can see how far this goes yet. Maybe she can’t see bringing me home to her parents for Thanksgiving when I’ll casually drop a little Shakespeare over the stuffing and ask her father about quarks. Maybe she can’t see strapping on a helmet and riding the dirt bike track with all the cousins for Christmas, finishing up with a bonfire and some music. Maybe she doesn’t know that I’m never going to let her go.
I tuck her under my chin, and our breathing syncs together. I kiss the top of her head. “Stay close.”
CHAPTER 15
