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And when I open my eyes, they land on a small paper bag on my dresser. The day before Thanksgiving, Travis brought it into the restaurant.“It’s not much, but it may help you feel safer.”I’d stowed it next to my purse and had forgotten about it until it was time to leave for the day. As I exited Poke the Yolk, I carried it alongside my purse and didn’t give it much thought.
Five days have passed since I set the bag on my dresser. Distracted by the holiday and uptick in restaurant business, I forgot about the pity present. Then this nagging twinge would flare in my gut, my intuition instantly on high alert. In the moment, it was an instant reminder to open the damn bag. Still, I never did.
Maybe the real reason I’ve ignored the bag is because I don’t want toneedto feel safer.
More than anything, I just want life to return to normal.
Fingers curled around the handles, I carry the bag back to my bed and sit cross-legged under the comforter. I flip on the salt lamp next to my bed, peel apart the flaps, and reach inside. One piece at a time, I remove the contents and lay them on the comforter.
All in red, the first few pieces make me smile. A poofy pom pom on a keyring. A lip balm holder with red and pink kissy lips printed on it. A glittery red sanitizer holder.
“Andhowwill these keep me safe, officer?”
Reaching into the bag again, the next item I remove is shiny, red, and cylindrical. I roll it over in my hand and see a cutout.A whistle.The next piece resembles a car fob. On the back, it reads40-minute continuous 140db personal alarm with an 85 lumen LED light. Gingerly, I lay it on the bed, then reach into the bag again. My fingers curl around the ridged tube and, without seeing it, I already know what it is.Pepper spray.With equal ease, I set it next to the alarm.
“Really know how to charm a lady, don’t you, Travis?”
With a roll of my eyes, I check the bag for any additional items for my new self-defense kit. My fingers brush a small cloth pouch, the final item, and remove it. I loosen the cinched fabric and turn the pouch upside down over my open palm. A small, solid item hits my palm but is quickly covered by a folded slip of paper.
Tossing the pouch aside, I pick up the paper, unfold it, and smile at the simple note in Travis’s messy scrawl.
My sunshine.
xo
Travis
I never expected a growly man like Travis to have a soft heart. His hard exterior is up for the world to see, but a lucky few see the real him. The man behind the mask. Someone who gives his all to protect those he cares about.
Lifting my hand higher, I stare down at the golden charm in my palm. A sun.My sunshine.
Similar in size to the moon on my necklace, the sun’s rays swirl out from the heart of the charm. In the center, several diamond chips make the sun sparkle in the light. And like the moon at the hollow of my throat, the sun charm is simple but says more than words.
I caress the small token of his affection with the pad of my thumb and smile. Unlatching my necklace, I slide the sun on then fasten the clasp. I brush the two charms and take a deep breath.
Without effort, Travis gifts me rare comfort. A dose of peace. An invisible hug from a distance. A silent promise, in the shape of a sun, that says he will always be with me.
“Such a softy.” I chuckle.
Swiping my phone from the nightstand, I unlock it and click on the messaging app. But before I get a chance to type out a teasing text to Travis, my phone buzzes with several notifications. Over and over, notifications from several social media apps pop up on the screen.
I open the first app, an alert over the notification icon indicates several new followers, likes, and comments. My eyes dart across the screen, reading some of the comments, and I gasp at the unexpected crudeness and vitriol.
rouge_rebelsomeone paid you for this content?! Ew. Pass.
bb.06them red lips around my c*ck tho
frankengrindstfuattdlagg
bb.03MY whore
Pulse whooshing in my ears, I close the app and open another to see much of the same.
hey.itssophieminutes of my life I’ll never get back??
bb.01red is for pretty little whores
vanhoedon’t quit your day job
