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“I really wish you’d call me Bryant,” he said, giving her a sad smile. “Is there anyone you want me to notify? Family? Friends who might worry?”
“No. Nobody is going to miss me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. What about your therapist? Shannon said you’ve been seeing someone?”
“Oh, right. Um, Dr. Jeanine Anderson. We’re supposed to have a session tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to cancel.” Ironically, just when she needed her the most.
“I’ll take care of it.” Giving her knee another reassuring squeeze, he rose to his feet and stepped aside. Shannon moved in, shocking MaryAnn yet again by throwing her arms around her neck and squeezing until MaryAnn worried she might pass out from the lack of oxygen.
“They’re going to find that asshole, and we’re going to bring you home, and then you’re going to put him in a fucking cage for the rest of his life. Got it?”
“Got it.” She wasn’t sure she believed it, but it was hard to argue with a woman like Shannon Wright.
“Good.” With another hard squeeze, she straightened again. If MaryAnn wasn’t mistaken, unshed tears shimmered in her pale blue eyes, which was yet another shock. Surely Shannon wasn’t worried about her? “See you when we see you, babe. Oh, and don’t let Dean push you around too much.” The corner of Shannon’s mouth pulled up in a sassy smirk. “They like it better when you fight them a little.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Bryant said with a scowl. “Shannon thinks everyone should be as big of a brat as she is.”
“The world would be a better place with more brats, and you know it, Bryant Monroe.”
They waved as they left, their playful banter echoing in the entryway, until it disappeared altogether after the front door slammed.
Not wanting to be wasteful, she lifted her mug of hot chocolate to her lips and sipped. But it tasted like ash on her tongue. Returning the mug to the table, she placed a hand over her mouth, smothering the sobs rising in her throat. Alone in a stranger’s house, she let the tears fall in silence as her heart shattered in her chest.
CHAPTER3
She wasn’t as quiet as she thought she was.
To be fair, he’d expected the breakdown long before this. He had a feeling she’d come close in the car, when he’d caught her on the verge of what seemed like a panic attack. But most people, when they were completely uprooted from their lives like she had just been, didn’t take it with nearly as much grace as she had.
Although, now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure it was grace so much as… control. As if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. Maybe she just wasn’t comfortable letting others see her cry.
He could understand that, even if part of him wished she wouldn’t hold back. There was something about her that tugged at him in ways he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time, and he was self-aware enough to admit he wanted to dig deeper, to find out what that something was.
It wasn’t realistic to expect her to open up like that to a perfect stranger, however, so he wouldn’t push.
For now.
With the toppings stored away again and the leftover hot chocolate tucked away in the fridge, he paused, listening for those soft little sobs she’d obviously been trying to hide from him. When he was met with silence, he made his way to the living room, letting his booted feet fall heavily on the hardwood so she would hear him coming and not spook.
As he’d expected, she’d gathered herself again by the time he came around the corner into the living room. Perched on the edge of the couch, her back ramrod straight, she held her hands folded on her lap, a polite smile on her face.
The smile didn’t reach her red-rimmed eyes, but as much as the sight broke his heart, he pretended he didn’t notice. “So, we can either take your stuff upstairs for you to put it away, or we can hang out down here for a bit. Which would you rather do?”
He’d deliberately avoided the more open-ended “What do you want to do now?” question. Too many options could be overwhelming under the best of circumstances, and for someone in crisis mode, having a manageable number of choices often helped to ease the panic that came with trying to make decisions in an unfamiliar environment.
And even with only two options to choose from, MaryAnn still looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Um. Whatever you think is best.”
It was his instinct to push for an answer, to teach her to stand up for herself. But she wasn’t his to teach, or to push, so he simply smiled. “Let’s get you settled in your space, then, and we can talk about a movie or something after you’ve had a chance to lie down for a bit.”
Her eyes rolled, just a fraction, but enough for him to inwardly cheer that she wasn’t simply giving in to his declaration. “It’s barely even ten in the morning. I don’t need to lie down.”
If she’d been his Little girl, she absolutely would be taking a nap. With a sore bottom if she kept arguing about it. Since she wasn’t, he simply smiled and nodded in agreement. “All right. Follow me.”
Turning, he grabbed each of her suitcases, ignoring her protests and insistence that she could carry one herself. At the top of the stairs, he took a right and led her down the hall to the guest suite.
At least, that was what his contractor had called it when they’d been building the house. To him, it was simply another set of rooms he’d never gotten the chance to fill.
Shoving the memories aside before they could drag him down into a pit it would take him far too long to climb back out of, he sat the suitcases down outside one of the bedrooms and opened the door. “Both of these rooms, plus the bathroom there, are yours to use however you want. There’s the bedroom here, and then a living room of sorts with a television and a DVD player. My Netflix account should be logged in, along with some other streaming services. If there’s something you want that I don’t have, let me know and I’ll see about getting it for you. Don’t log into any of your accounts on any devices around the house.”
