Page 35 of His Last Nerve

He held me. He warmed me.

Hesavedme.

“Don’t think about it, Val,” I whispered to myself as I looked down at the shirt once more. At least his shirt fit me. Being tall and plus sized, it was rare to find a man larger than me. My stomach was hidden under the cotton fabric, loose and drowning me.

Denver Langston was indeed a large man.

A bear of a man.

My mind wanted to think about the fact that he was a Marine. Images of him fighting for our country flitting through my head, the things he must have seen…the terrors he must’ve endured, all to protect innocent people. Hell, even peoplethathe hated—like me.

Maybe that’s where he got his attitude from—because to him, I wasn’t worth it.

He saved you today, didn’t he?

There was a bathroom in front of me, and I padded over to it. After taking care of myself, I braved a look in the mirror.

My eyes widened. I didn’t recognize the woman standing in front of me.

“Holy shit, Val. You look like death.”

My skin was paler than usual, my hair frizzy and in knots. Dried mascara stuck to my cheeks. My eyes were sunken in, probably due to the stress and exhaustion. I looked like a frumpy, homeless person. After I washed my hands, I combed my hair with my fingers, and rinsed my face. I did all this knowing I was in a house I didn’t know, and I needed to call my mom.

Panic set in then.

I hadn’t called my mom today, aside from our phone call this morning. I braced my hand against the counter, my head falling between my shoulders as panic began to consume me.

I didn’t know where my phone was.

Was it in the rental?

Did Mr. Langston take it?

Was Mom okay?

Did Jackie take care of everything? Surely, she was worried about me.

I didn’t need her worrying about me. Worry caused stress which caused her body to panic. She was in the middle of a bloody, violent war with cancer. The stress of worrying about me would distract her from fighting it. It would make her weak…

I would lose her all together.

“I gotta find my phone—my phone,” I breathed out, black spots dotting my vision. I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath. I needed to ground myself.

I heard a bang somewhere in the house, causing me to jump, distracting me from the panic that coursed through me. He was here. I needed to ask him—then I would call mom. I poked my head out of the bathroom, expecting to see my grumpy cowboy, but the room was empty.

“Mr. Langston?” I called; my voice shaky.

Why are you being so formal? You are in his shirt with no pants.

I waited a few more minutes, waiting to see if there was another sound. Nothing. Zip. Maybe he was down at the barn.

Maybe he’s staying the hell away from you because you’re trying to take his home away.

Shoving down my thoughts with a sigh, I went to his chest of drawers and opened the top one. Boxers and socks. I scanned the room for my clothes once more, and they were missing too. No phone. No clothes. I sighed and grabbed a pair of black boxers, sliding them on over my underwear before I padded out of the room.

The stairs were in front of me. There were three rooms, two across from me and one beside Mr. Langston’s room. The bedroom directly across from me, over the stairs was open and I saw a toy chest.

My spine straightened.

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