And instantly, I knew what he was trying to say. Zaid was the first person to give him that feeling of protection and loyalty. And that was the reason he couldn’t say ‘no’ to him.
It didn’t mean I had to agree with his choices.
“It’s hard to believe you,” I said. He gave me a questioning look, so I explained, “You have everything together. You don’t have problems. You’re perfect.”
A sad smile crossed his face. “Not really.” He stood up and held out an outstretched hand. I took it, letting him help me up.
We walked back to the apartment, pointing out different random things every now and then amongst the bustle: a strange neon sign, a Santa driving a pickup truck, a showgirl in flip flops. Things to make us smile. To pretend like we were a normal couple, wandering through a tourist town. To pretend like everything was all right. Because for a moment, it was.
But then tires screeched around the corner. We both turned to see a black SUV, the engine revving. The car raced towards us. Cars honked, people yelled, and the world went into slow motion. Grant shoved me out of the way and faced the oncoming car, peering into the windshield, to see the driver. The car barrelled onto the curb, speeding towards him, and jerked out of the way at the last second. It rushed away. Disappeared before I could let out a breath.
A few people were staring at us, asking if we were okay. If we knew who that was. I could barely see straight. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, making me feel jittery.
Grant turned towards me. He opened his mouth, but before he could ask, I said, “I’m fine.” I could feel each beat in my heart constrict and relax, but nothing was wrong. I was unharmed. We were okay. “Did you see the driver?” I asked.
“Not well,” he said, but when we locked eyes, we both knew who it was. Who it had to be. The stalker. A chill inched its way through me, making my bottom lip quiver. As if my blood could cool with the thought of the stalker alone. “Male. Dark hair, possibly.”Oliver.I bit my lip. “Did you get the license plate?”
Of course not. I was too busy panicking about whether or not Grant was okay. “No,” I said.
“Whoever it was, you weren’t the target,” he said.
Which meant that Grantwasthe target. He knew it. And that terrified me.
I would be crushed if something happened to Grant. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. And if anything did happen to him, then that meant it would be my fault. The only reason he could have been targeted, was because of me.
I couldn’t stand the idea of living without Grant.
Did that mean I cared about him?
His shoulders were sturdy, like he was ready for anything. Prepared to protect. And yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I didn’t want Grant to die. I didn’t want anything to happen to him.
