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Shuffling of footsteps on the wooden floor, then Chevy calls out, “Eli.”
“What do you need?”
“I need sleep.”
So do I.
I angle my head so I can witness Eli’s response, to see if he understands what Chevy’s really asking, what I need to know before I can let myself drift.
“We’ve got every entrance and exit covered. No one’s coming in here if you don’t want them. You’re safe to rest. Get some sleep, we’ll get you both home soon and we’ll take care of you there, as well.”
“Thanks,” Chevy says. Eli leaves and I watch as the door to Chevy’s room closes.
Silence.
There’s silence.
Not really silence.
There’s the sound of my breaths coming in and out. The sound of Chevy’s breaths coming in and out.
Chevy shifts so he’s under the covers with me, moving so that I can nestle exactly where I want to be—my head on his chest, my arm around his stomach. Chevy holds me tight, his fingers tunnel into my hair and then eventually discover my temple. He starts that slow circle massage and my eyes eventually close.
“I’ve got you, Violet. I swear to God I’ve got you.”
And there’s no more thrumming.
Just his heat, warm covers, his heartbeat, his promise, the rise and fall of his chest and my body wrapped around his.
This. Just this. I’m finally home.
CHEVY
Violet: You look tired.
Me: I am.
Violet: Have you been able to sleep?
Me: Not since the hospital. Only when I slept with you.
Violet: Me either. There’s this buzzing in my head that keeps me awake. I wish there would be silence. Everything seems too loud now. Like a TV with a broken remote.
Me: I get it.
Violet: I thought you would.
“SHE’S QUIET,” SAYS OZ. “I don’t like it.”
I pocket my cell, wanting to keep the messages between me and Violet private, then pick the football up off the ground. I glance over at the wraparound porch. Violet’s on the porch swing and she places her cell on her lap, but doesn’t look in my direction. Doesn’t let on at all that we’ve been chatting back and forth, sharing secrets via short words on a screen.
Her legs are propped up and she’s listening to her younger brother, Stone, who is in the Adirondack chair next to her. He’s telling her about some movie he and I watched last night.
In fact, he’s told her about every movie he’s watched while Violet and I were gone and while she was in the hospital. As long as he has her attention, he’ll keep talking, and knowing Violet, she’ll sit and listen. Even if we hadn’t been kidnapped, Violet has always given Stone her time.
I make a mental note that one of us will have to swoop in and give her a break. “Violet’s listening to Stone, that’s why she’s quiet. She doesn’t interrupt him unless she has to.”
“It’s more than that,” Oz says.
