Page 14 of Three Steps Behind

“I . . .”

“Actually, maybe bed is better. Catch up on some rest?”

She nodded at his kindness, needing to be alone with her thoughts—though being alone terrified her, but what was she going to do? Ask Deck to stay up all night with her? She’d made it through last night. She could make it through tonight. “Sounds good.” The words came out, but she meant the complete opposite. Last night had been horrid—a mix of sleeplessness and nightmares. Tonight, she’d find some way to keep herself occupied once the house was still.

He walked her to the guest room as he had last night and paused in front of the open door, leaning against the doorjamb. “Well . . .” he said.

She narrowed her eyes. Was he stalling?

“You slept okay last night?” he asked.

Panic slithered through her. Had he heard her pacing the room for hours after waking in a cold sweat?

“I did fine, thanks.” She’d managed. If spending the night terrified counted as managing.

“Okay.” He pushed off the doorjamb and raked a hand through his hair. “I best let you head off to dreamland. Is it . . .” He bit his bottom lip. “Is it okay if I give you a hug good night?”

She nodded.

He leaned in, his strong arms embracing her in a gentle hug, and for once she didn’t flinch. In fact, her skin warmed at his touch, gooseflesh rippling on her arms. Thank goodness she had long sleeves on or that would be uber embarrassing.

“Okay,” he said. “PJ time for me too, I suppose.”

She couldn’t bring herself to go to her condo before arriving here. To go to her condo alone, period. Beyond embarrassing. Ridicule raced through her. Instead, she’d run to Target for clothes, but not pajamas. She doubted she’d ever sleep in them again. She’d sleep in her clothes. Pajamas kept her a prisoner of that moment—a cruel hand grasped tight around her ankle, yanking her from bed. It was the moment her life changed, and she feared she’d never get her old life back.

“Can I get you anything else?” Deck asked. “Maybe an ice pack for your cheek? Or some Band-Aids for your cuts?” He’d asked last night too, but the bruises and cuts felt so raw she hated to think of anything touching them. Now they stung less, but a deep ache had replaced the rawness.

“I’ll take an ice pack, if you don’t mind.” The cuts were starting to scab over a little more. But even a little meant they were healing, and she yearned for healing wherever she could get it.

“You got it.” He studied her face before leaving, and she tried to shrink back. “Maybe two.” He left the door open after he stepped out—his footfalls quieted by thick carpet in the hall. She counted the minutes until he returned.

“Here you go,” he said, a white bag of something in either hand. “I brought peas and carrots.” He held up the two bags of veggies. “I’ve found they’re softer on bruises than the hard plastic packs.”

“You speak from experience?” She hated to even think there may have been physical abuse from Deck’s con-artist parents on top of pulling him and his siblings into their schemes. Either way, it must have been beyond awful.

“Yep.”

She didn’t push further on his experiences. He’d share when he wanted to. Just like she wouldn’t share until she was ready.

He cleared his throat. “Juvie is an unfriendly place until you assert your dominance.”

Oh. She’d forgotten about his time in juvie. She hated to think what that might have been like as well.

“Gotcha.” Looking back, she would’ve thought she’d assert her dominance, fight like a caged lion in the container, but she hadn’t. She’d cowered in that steel box instead.

He took a step closer but still gave her a decent amount of space, extending the bag of veggies in each hand. “Here.”

She rocked forward and took hold of both. “Thanks.”

Placing the first on her right cheekbone, she winced at the shocks of pain shooting up to her forehead.

“May I?” he said.

She inched back, and Deck leaned forward.

“If you hold it like this . . .” He shifted to her side and rested his hand lightly over hers. “And if you move it like this . . .” He lowered her hand to cradle the bag rather than press it against her bruises. “It helps.”

It eased the sharp, piercing jolt bouncing through her bones.