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Greer
Jace hadn’t come back last night, and he hadn’t called or texted me all day before he knocked on the back door a little after five.
“Hey,” he said when I cracked it open and slid out onto the warped wood of the back steps. I’d seen him pull up but quickly abandoned the idea of changing into something less…sloppy coed chic.
“Hey.”
His black eyes skated over my oversized UW sweatshirt and leggings before returning to my face. I’m sure he noted my tired eyes, the hollows under my cheekbones. Jace never missed details like that.
“Have you been resting?”
“Yes.”
“I see you got the front door closed.”
“Eugenia got it closed last night and locked it. We’re only using this door for now. It’s just as noisy, but not if you only open it partway.”
Is this what we’d been reduced to? Questions and answers? Inane babble? There was so much I wanted to say to him—tell him. But I couldn’t read his expression as easily as he could read mine. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I hadn’t felt this cut off from him since he’d stood on his front steps with Marina and stared me down just a few weeks ago. Not for the first time during the past twenty-four hours, I wondered if this was the end.
“Look,” he said, running his hand through his thick, dark hair. “I’m still trying to figure out what happened yesterday and why.”
“Me too,” I said, angry now. “It happened to me, you know. You’re not the one who was out there in a dangerous situation with very little to go on as to why.”
“I never said I was. You just scared me. I’m trying to make sense of it. What I meant to say was maybe we shouldn’t talk about it right now. Maybe things are just too raw, and we should wait.”
I weighed his words in my head. Fine by me. I didn’t want to talk about it either. The last thing I ever wanted to do was talk about the confusing cocktail of repetitive thoughts that’d led me onto that scaffolding.
“Okay,” I finally agreed. “Let’s wait.”
“Listen, the reason I stopped by yesterday in the first place…I wanted to tell you the APD has cleared you of both murders.”
“Oh my God. Really?” I waited for the inevitable flood of relief, happiness, but it never came. I’m sure it was the Xanax in my system that kept me from feeling much of anything.
“Yeah. Looks like my services are no longer required. At least those services.”
“We should celebrate,” I said, hoping I hadn’t imagined the innuendo in his tone. I wanted him to come inside. I wanted him to touch me, to close the physical and emotional distance between us.
“That would require you to let me in.”
“Oh…of course.”
I had to push the door open wide to accommodate Jace’s frame, and the resulting squeal echoed loudly. I was beginning to worry about the framework of the back porch too. Inside, Jace didn’t ask before taking the steps up to the second floor. I followed him into my bedroom.
Before I could speak, he turned and placed a large hand around my neck and squeezed gently.
My heartbeat kicked up, and I reveled in the resulting swirl of panic, relieved that the Xanax hadn’t rendered me completely incapable of feeling. I focused on Jace’s beautifully shaped lips. I imagined kissing them. I imagined them trailing across my body.
No doubt seeing the need written all over my face, Jace leaned down and kissed me, using his warm grip to angle my mouth below his exactly the way he wanted it.
“Who’s here?” he murmured, breaking the kiss.
“No…no one. Just me. Eugenia left this morning and hasn’t been back.”
“You’re staying here all alone?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know when Eugenia will be back. Whoever was in the attic…they were gone when I checked up there after we got home from South Bend. And I haven’t heard anything since.”
Jace’s voice was a dull throb. “I know you’re confused and worried and probably still recovering…I’ll be gentle.”
