CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Laurel
The next morning, Bryan slipped away from me before the sun was up. He left me with a kiss on my forehead and a sweet whispers of how much he loved me.
I was half asleep but somehow aware of what was going on. After the door closed behind him, I chose to let myself drift off again.
I knew it. I had no idea how I knew, but I did. It was a feeling that had settled into my bones.
They hadhim.
I didn’t know where.
I didn’t know if he was still alive.
But I did know that they had him.
I found some kind of comfort in that. Enough to where I didn’t ask what was going on. There was a moment when Bryan looked at me and I knew that he would always take care of me. He would do everything to make sure I was safe. And now, he would make sure the things that had become my living nightmares would see a fitting end.
I woke hours later. Or so I figured because the sun was now up and the light was streaming into the room.
I took a quick shower and threw on something comfy but decent enough to step outside of the room in.
As I opened the door, I wasn’t at all surprised to see that there was someone standing near.
“Colby,” I greeted.
“Ma’am,” he said with a tip of his head.
I didn’t bother correcting him about calling me that and how it made me feel old. I had a feeling it wasn’t going to do any good.
“Do you cook?” I asked.
“Not so great, no,” he answered.
“Well, neither do I, or so I think. I haven’t really tried. Come on, let’s go see how many things we can ruin.”
He followed behind me as we made our way to the kitchen. I wanted to do something nice for the guys. I figured breakfast was a good idea. How hard could it really be to make something? I mean, people did it all the time, right?
I searched the pantry until I found a huge box of pancake mix.
“Alright,” I said to no one in particular. “This shouldn’t be too hard. I can follow directions.”
Colby got out a huge mixing bowl for me and I got to work. I read the directions twice, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything.
“There’s a griddle plate for the stove,” Colby said and bent down to look for it in one of the bottom cabinets.
He was also nice enough to set it up and get it heating for me.
“How old are you, Colby?” I asked trying to make some kind of conversation as I poured circles of batter on the griddle.
“Twenty-two.”
“Did you go to college?”
“No, ma’am. I had a sick momma that I had to take care of.”
“Oh,” I replied not really sure what to say. “I didn’t do the whole college thing either.”
