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“You could have been an intruder.”
“The house is safe,” he said, a smile still playing around his mouth. “Put the fruit bowl down.”
I felt like an idiot. I put the bowl down and kneeled to pick up the fruit I’d thrown on the ground.
“Let me,” Rune said, and he did the dirty work while I straightened.
When I glanced past them toward the front door, a group of men stood outside, all dressed in black, talking to each other.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“They’re security,” Wesley said. “They’re here to look after you. They’re shifters, so they’ll be able to stop whoever comes, no matter how powerful.”
A shiver ran down my spine. “You’re leaving me here with a bunch of strange animals?”
“They wouldn’t dare touch you,” Wesley said, and there was something hard in his voice. His eyes had become cold, too. “Trust me, they’re here to protect you. They’ll report back to me every day.”
I frowned. “You’re not staying here?”
Wesley shook his head, and I couldn’t tell what his face said.
Right. He wasn’t interested in being here, in getting directly involved. Whatever was going on was because of him, but he wasn’t even going to stay with me and handle the brunt of it. I had to deal with this shit on my own and have a bunch of strange men all around me. How was that supposed to make me feel safe?
“You can make yourself at home,” Wesley said. “I’ve also arranged for clothing.”
“What?”
Just as he said it, a woman walked in and gestured for two men to follow. They put boxes down on the floor.
“I asked Virginia to pick out a few things for you and Emmie, since you’re not going to go shopping yourselves.”
When he said my daughter’s name, Emmie appeared at the door.
Wesley smiled at her, and it lit up his face. His expression softened.
“You okay?” he asked.
Emmie nodded and came closer, curling her small hand into mine.
“Good. If anything goes wrong, you just let me know, okay?”
“How?” Emmie asked.
Wesley walked to the wall. “This red button. There’s one in every room. If you press it, I’ll come.”
“You won’t stay?” Emmie asked.
Wesley shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Why?” she asked.
“It’s complicated.”
Emmie tilted her head. “Grownups always say that.”
“Yeah, being a grownup sucks sometimes.” He glanced at me. “Sometimes more than others.”
What did that mean?
