“Did you see who it was?” he asks, voice back to its normal cadence.
“Nah. They ran away before I could get a good look at them. Harley tipped ’em off.”
“So it could have been … someone I … we know, then.”
“Someone like Derek?” I ask, studying his face intently. He hasn’t told me much about his ex, but those bruises he was wearing when he walked in told me enough.
“Yeah. Maybe.” His voice is a whisper, and it looks like he’s folding in on himself. I fucking hate it.
“Then we deal with it. Together.” I use my fighter voice so he knows I mean it.
“Together?”
“Yeah, together.” I say, my eyes full of all the things he’s not ready to hear.
I get a ghost of a smile before he buries his face in my chest again.
“Grab your stuff while I do a loop around the gym.” I say calmly, even though the rage I’m feeling at how he’s been treated makes me wanna go a few rounds with the heavy bag.
“My stuff. Why?” His voice is high, tight with panic. Damn it, he thinks I’m kicking him out.
“I’m taking you home with me. You’re not spending another second here alone.” I tell him firmly, my tone leaving no room for discussion. I should have done it the first night.
“What? That’s not… I’m fine.” He stammers, gaping at me with indignation.
I don’t answer him. He’s not fine, and he’s coming home with me.
“Go get your stuff.” I tell him in a kindly but firm tone. I hold his gaze, steady so he knows I’m not about to leave him here. Staring him down until he heads toward the office, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.
I walk the perimeter, double-checking the back door. It’s still secure. No sign of tampering. Everything seems in order except for the front door. That gets handled tomorrow.
When I stop at the office, Arlo’s sitting on the couch—backpack in one hand, other hand in his hair, staring down at his feet. He’s dressed, but the backpack is empty. His face is still pale, and the hollow look hasn’t left his eyes. That’s not good.
Immediately, I kneel in front of him, catching his attention to assess his condition.
I shouldn’t have left him alone.
“Hey Arlo. It’s me. I need you to do something for me, okay?” I rub the palms of my hands along his arms, and he shivers before finally looking up, but he’s confused and can’t focus.
“Let’s take some deep breaths together, okay? Five in.”
He tries, but his breathing is still too shallow.
“Try again, ‘Lo. Come on, breathe in.”
This time he does it, but lets it go too fast.
“That’s okay. Let’s try again. In for five.”
He breathes in and holds it for longer. Not five, but getting closer. I keep at it, encouraging him to breathe. In five, hold five, out five.
Eventually he gets there, the color gradually returning to his face. I grab the water bottle on his side table.
“Here. Take a big drink. It’ll help.”
I lean over to my desk, rummaging through the drawers. There were a couple of protein bars in here somewhere. I finally find one, unwrapping it quickly and holding it up to him.
“Can you take a couple of bites, Arlo?”
