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For a moment, she just stares at me, hesitating.
Then she sags against me, resting her head on my shoulder. “Okay.”
Chapter 10
THEA
It still doesn’t feel real.
And no matter how hard I try not to think about it, my mind reminds me at the most inopportune moments.
In the middle of story time, as I’m reading about the owl who needs glasses to a group of preschoolers, I remember the feel of the gun pressed against the back of my head.
While I’m helping Mr. Quinton log onto the computer again, I break into a cold sweat as another memory hits me—that garbled voice ordering me to drive, or they’d kill me.
When I have to search the storage closet for misplaced book label protectors, I nearly have a panic attack. Alone in the small space, I swear I can feel the breath of a person behind me.
Ben’s been texting me all day, asking how I’m doing or if I need anything, saying how much he’s looking forward to seeing me tonight. I don’t want to give him another reason to worry, so I keep my responses light. I’m good, I don’t need anything, hope his day is going well, I can’t wait to see him, too.
The last part is true, at least.
Last night, Ben had to work a shift at the station—he offered to cancel, but I refused—so I spent the entire night huddled on my couch, wracking my brain to figure out who could have been in my car and trying desperately not to lose it.
Inside, I feel like a wreck. My stomach is a tight knot, and the thought of food is nauseating. The normal sounds of the library—bursts of childish laughter, a book falling on the floor, the copier working—make me flinch. And my heart won’t stop racing.
When I’m walking through the library, I try to hide it. I grit my teeth and plaster a smile on my face and do my best to keep my shoulders from looking too tense. But as soon as I get back to the solitude of my office, the facade dissolves.
This place always soothed me, and now it’s suffocating. I’m on edge, my nerves raw and exposed. I don’t feel safe.
It’s the not knowing that terrifies me. The person in my car could be anyone. The unfamiliar man sitting at a table, browsing through a reference book. The woman in the mystery section who got mad at me last week when I told her she wasn’t allowed to eat in the library.
Or maybe it’s someone I know.
Like Matt, who I went on a date with last year, and still run into at the supermarket every month or so. Or Paul, the guy who fixed my water heater last winter and asked me out after, and looked insulted when I politely declined.
It’s exhausting. And terrifying.
I want to go back to Saturday, when my biggest worry was asking Ben about our relationship. I want to turn back the clock and tell Ben not to put those bags in my car, so my flashback never happened. We would have had a great night together with pizza, and the new book I bought Laila, and cuddling on the couch with Ben after she went to bed.
Instead, I’m wondering who snuck into my car and put a gun to my head.
I would never call myself particularly brave—I’m probably around a five on a scale from one to ten. But now? I’m scared all the time.
Not just of the person who assaulted me. It sounds kind of crazy to say it that way—I wasn’t physically injured by them; I’m the one who drove into the tree. But when I mentioned that the other night, Ben’s face got all hard and angry.
“They held a gun on you, Thea.” His voice was strained, his jaw tightly clenched. “Said they’d kill you. You had a bruise from where the gun pressed against your head. That’s assault.”
Before the flashback, I always saw Ben as kind and gentle. And he is.
But there’s more to him than that.
He makes me feel safe. Protected.
He tucks me into his side as he escorts me from his car to the library, his arm firmly wrapped around me, his gaze constantly searching for any possible threat.
The first night I had to be home alone—though Zane was stationed outside—Ben triple checked all the new cameras and alarms, even though Leo had just installed them.
“It’s not that I don’t trust Leo,” he told me. “But I need to be sure.”
