AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“In case of what?” I ask, a little of the old jealousy I felt when I first met her bubbling back up.
She shrugs one shoulder and pulls a brush from a set of drawers and sets about fixing her hair.
“In case a job goes south and I need somewhere to lie low,” she explains simply.
“And has that ever happened?”
She pauses and looks at me in the mirror.
“No. I’m too good at my job,” she says arrogantly, reminding me of Reid.
Maybe what she said on the deck of the safe house was right. Their egos really wouldn’t work well together.
“Right,” I muse. “I’ll… uh…”
I move back to the door. Everything I left here is in the closet in the room Mav and I shared, or at least, I assume that’s still the case.
With each step I take, I have to fight a little harder to keep the demons at bay.
Mav’s door is closed, and the sight of it, not knowing what is hiding behind it, gives me pause.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find JD’s half open and make a quick detour.
I didn’t want my own clothes anyway.
With my eyes darting in every direction, I step into his room and get assaulted by his scent.
It makes my chest ache as I vividly remember the moment that house went up.
They’re okay, I assure myself.
Everything is going to be okay.
Digging up as much strength as I can find, I pull open his closet and breathe in a deep hit of the man I’ve become so obsessed with.
Pulling one of his tanks free, I quickly remove my damp bra and tug it on.
With the hem lifted to my nose, I turn back around but pause when my eyes lock on the bed.
Memories of him talking about what happened when I left slam into me and pain slices through my chest.
He was right there with a notebook and a bottle of vodka, bleeding out and no one knew.
He could have died right there and I’d have had no idea.
A sob rips up my throat, and before I know what I’m doing, I find myself crawling onto his bed and pulling his pillow into my chest.
My sobs are unstoppable and in only seconds, I’m overcome with emotion.
I sense Aubrey join me, but my hysteria doesn’t die down, and she doesn’t say anything.
Instead, the mattress dips when she lowers herself down and her warm hand hesitantly rests on my bare upper arm.
Her presence is comforting. The space she gives me to fall apart without having to explain what I’m feeling or how much my heart is hurting for everything we’ve been through is hugely appreciated.
Although, when I do eventually begin to calm down, I discover it might not have been on purpose.
“I’m sorry,” she confesses quickly when my sobs subside. “I don’t… I don’t know how to deal with this. The tears.”
