“I doubt he could find you. I know the city and I have some connections and I couldn’t find you, so it’s unlikely he could. Not impossible, of course, but unlikely.”
“I know. It’s a big city and people tend to keep to themselves and mind their own business when it comes to strangers.”
“Yeah, I guess Boston’s as good a city as any if you’re looking to hide.”
She knew he didn’t mean to insult her, but Wren heard the slight edge in her voice when she responded. “I didn’t run to Boston to hide. I moved to Boston because I always wished I could live here and I realized, for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a reason not to. My dad took off when I was young and Mom died when I was still in high school and Alex wouldn’t speak to me anymore. There was nothing keeping me in Virginia.”
“I’m sorry. I just assumed and...I shouldn’t have.”
“You don’t have to take care of me, Grant.” She said it firmly, looking him in the eye. “I have some money put aside. I have what I need to start over again and I have some friends. I don’t need to be saved or rescued. Yeah, I’m scared of Ben, but I can handle that, too. I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“I’m sure as hell not a knight in shining armor,” he responded. “But I’d like for us to be friends.”
“I’d like that.”
“Although, I feel like I should point out I did, in fact, literally rescue you last night.”
She laughed and he joined in until the laughing gave way to more painful coughing. And even though he didn’t take her hand after he paid the bill and they walked out of the restaurant, like he would have five months ago, it felt good to laugh and recapture some of the happiness she’d given up.
And she told herself she wasn’t going to let anybody take it away from her again. Maybe she and Grant could never go back to the relationship they’d had before, but she was done running.
* * *
Grant had his feet up and was about to nod off to a rerun of a cop show when his phone chimed.
Knock knock.
The caller ID said it was Rick Gullotti, which was weird.
Who’s there?
After a few seconds, he got a reply.
What?
What who?
The phone rang in his hand. “What’s up, LT?”
Though Rick was technically the lieutenant for Ladder 37 and Danny Walsh was his LT, they both got the nickname.
“Are you drunk?”
“Am I drunk? I’m not the one texting knock knock jokes at nine o’clock at night, and then screwing them up.”
“It wasn’t a knock knock joke. I want you to open your door.”
“Oh. I would have known that if you’d actually, you know, knocked on the door.”
“Open the damn door.”
Grant tossed the remote on the table and walked to his front door to let Rick in. He was still standing in the hall with his phone pressed to his ear, and Grant laughed. “You can hang up now.”
Rick cursed and shoved the phone into his pocket. “I’m too old for this shit.”
“What are you doing?”
“Checking on you. Walsh called me. He was worried about you, but he said something about Jackson and terrible twos and Ashley having stuff to do. I didn’t catch it all because the kid was screeching like he was on fire in the background. So I’m here to, I don’t know. See if you’re okay. Whatever. And somebody at the bar was talking about how young people don’t knock anymore. They just text to announce their arrival.”
