Page 8 of Follow Me Down

“I guess you have a point?” I phrase it more as a question than a statement, because really, what was his point? That I’mnotsome random girl he brought home, screwed, and then left on the side of the road?

I’m sure I’m missing the full analogy, but I think I somewhat understand what he’s getting at.

“Don’t worry about Titus. I promise you; his bark is much worse than his bite. If you’re here, it’s because he wants you here.”

“I’m guessing you two are pretty close.” I’m hoping to keep him talking. Truth is, I’m more than a little curious about the mysterious man who rescued me last night.

“He’s my brother. Not by blood, but in all the ways that count. He got me out of a really bad situation when I was younger and I’ve been with him ever since.”

“How old are you?” It’s probably not my business, but I’m curious to know.

“Twenty-six.”

“I would have guessed you younger than that. And how old is Titus?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Twenty-eight,” I repeat under my breath.

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Well damn. I would have guessedyouolder than that. Don’t get me wrong, I knew you were young, but damn. Let me guess, you’re ripe out of high school?”

“I graduated two weeks ago.”

“Jesus. You really are a baby.”

“I’m not a baby. I’m only eight years younger than you. That’s not that much.”

“When it comes to life experience it kind of is.”

“I’ve had plenty of life experience.”

“No offense, puppet, but I really doubt that.”

“Why do you call me that? What does that even mean?” I ask, not missing that this is the third time that he’s referred to me as “puppet”.

Before he has a chance to answer, the door creaks open behind me. The air in the room instantly changes, and even though all I want to do is turn around and look at him, I don’t move a muscle.

A part of me is terrified that the intimidating, beautiful man that saved me will have somehow changed in the light of day. Or maybe I’m terrified that he’s exactly the same. I’m not sure which would be worse.

My skin tingles as his boots move against the wood floor and I swear I stop breathing when I feel him come up alongside of me.

“Got you some stuff.” He drops a white plastic bag onto the bar next to me.

My gaze swings upward, my stomach twisting when my eyes meet his stormy gray ones. My attention momentarily dips to the tattoo on his neck. It looks more like a compilation of smaller tattoos rather than one large one.

“I didn’t know what size you needed, so I had to guess. I figure anything is better than that.” He gestures to the red shirt swallowing my torso.

“You bought me clothes?” My eyes dart back up to his.

“And shoes.” He gestures to my bare feet. “It’s not much. Just something to get you by.” He shrugs indifferently before sliding into the stool next to me.

“Thank you,” I murmur, not bothering to look inside the bag. I’m sure whatever it is will be fine. Honestly, I’m shocked that he would think to go out and pick me up something to wear.

“It’s nothing. I had to run to town anyway.” He nods at Link who slides a plate of food in front of him.

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