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I turned my head and stared into those deep, blue eyes of his.
“I highly doubt I'm more stubborn than y
ou,” I teased. “I can't get you to answer a few simple questions.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“Like why you're so damned interested in protecting me, for starters,” I said. “And, also, while I'm at it, why you're so interested in finding out who did this to me.”
He shrugged and there was a darkness that descended over his eyes for a moment. I assumed he was just going to change the subject on me. Again. I was learning that Oliver was nothing if not a master at deflection and misdirection.
“Honestly, because I lost someone very important to me. Someone I couldn't save,” he said quietly. “My girlfriend, Lauren. She's been dead a year now.”
I sat up and stared at him, eyes wide with shock. “Jesus Christ, Oliver, I'm sorry,” I said. “I shouldn't have pried. Shouldn't have pushed you to—”
“It's okay. Honestly, it's about time I talked to someone about it,” he said. “Besides the guys at work, anyway. At least, now you know.”
The pain in his eyes was palpable, and I wanted to take that pain away more than anything I'd ever wanted in my entire life. Then a thought hit me – a memory, actually. I looked at him, a million thoughts firing through my head, but some of the puzzle pieces starting to fall into place.
“Lauren Hughes?” I asked.
Oliver hesitated but then nodded. “Yes, that was her name,” he said. “Why do you ask? And how did you know her?”
“Because that name rings a bell,” I said. “I didn't know her. I just know her name for some reason.”
I closed my eyes and repeated the name to myself repeatedly until it hit me. And when it did, it felt like the proverbial ton of bricks. Lauren had been one of the people I'd been looking into. Suspected arson, possible homicide. The police never ruled it out, but they never said for sure.
I looked at Oliver's face and knew it was not the right time to talk about this. As a firefighter, and her boyfriend, it was all stuff he probably knew already. I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes.
“I probably read about her in the newspaper,” I said, which was not exactly a lie. “I'm so, so sorry for your loss, Ollie.”
Stroking his chest, I listened to the beating of his heart. We lay there, in silence, until my eyes grew too heavy to fight off sleep any longer. I drifted off, warm and cozy next to Oliver, reveling in the fact that I felt safer than I had in days – if not longer.
CHAPTER SEVEN
OLIVER
It probably went without saying that Madison had heard about Lauren. Probably came across her name while she was working on her show. Maybe she couldn't recall, but more than likely, her name was one listed in the notebooks she kept on her cases. Some of which had apparently gone missing.
I assumed that, given her injuries and the trauma she'd endured, her memory was still pretty sketchy about a lot of things. But, it seemed to be coming back in blips and blurbs. I didn't want to press the issue with her right then though. We were both exhausted and there didn't seem to be a point in rehashing it all tonight, at least. I figured it would be more productive if I tried to jog her memory tomorrow. After we'd both gotten some rest and were mentally all there again.
Her breathing grew steady and relaxed as I stroked her hair and she flirted with the edge of sleep. Years ago, I'd have loved nothing more than to fuck her like I just had. Now that I had, though, I found myself wondering if it had been a good idea. Yes, it had been a year since I'd lost Lauren, but my feelings were still all over the place. Even more alarming to me was the fact that as I lay there next to her, stroking her hair, and listening to her gentle breathing, I found myself falling for this woman all over again.
Which was the last thing I needed.
Her head grew heavier against my chest and her breathing became steadier as she drifted off to sleep. I was used to having some sort of white noise to help me sleep. Lacking my usual gadgets, I focused on her breathing to keep myself from heading into the abyss of darkness and despair that often came when I closed my eyes.
However, having her next to me, feeling her body pressed to mine, made it easier. Made it a lot easier, actually. I closed my eyes, feeling a profound sense of peace and almost immediately felt myself drifting off when a sound disrupted my restfulness. I couldn't place it, though, so I waited. My eyes snapped open and, looking around, I held my breath, waiting for the noise to repeat itself.
When I heard nothing else, I figured that I was being paranoid. Figured that it was a noise natural enough to a hotel and I just wasn't used to it. I usually didn't sleep well outside of my own home – for reasons just like that. Every noise became sinister, and danger lurked in every shadow. It was a stupid fear I'd had as a kid and one that followed me, to a lesser extent, to adulthood. I let out a breath and allowed myself to start to drift off again.
And then I heard it again.
I opened my eyes wide and looked around the room. Slowly, I started to get up, gently moving Madison's head onto the pillow next to me so I could sit up.
Her eyes still closed, her voice thick with sleep, she mumbled, “What's wrong?”
I pressed my fingers to her mouth to silence her, which made her eyes grow wide and an expression of alarm cross her face as she came fully awake. There was a look of fear in her eyes that couldn't be missed and her body began to tremble as she seemed instinctively to know the potential danger we were in.
