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“This is wrong,” he rasps.
“Paintings can’t be wrong. They reflect how the artist sees the world.” I gulp. “How she feels.”
“But why are you feeling this?” He turns toward me, reaching out to take my upper arm in one of his hands, the one connected to his uninjured arm. “Baby, this is wrong. This isn’t me. I’ll never—” He breaks off, jerking his head to the side in a weird, awkward move.
“I started it a month ago,” I whisper, wondering why I feel so guilty. “Things were different then.”
“But you’re still working on it. Part of you must still feel this.”
It’s like I’ve been stripped utterly bare. Everything in my heart laid out for him to see. “I…”
I have absolutely no idea what to say.
His face twists. I’ve never seen him so openly emotional. “Baby, how can you?—?”
This time he doesn’t cut off the words himself. His tablet, which has been in his free hand all this time, makes a chirping sound, and he lifts it to look.
His entire stance shifts dramatically.
My heart starts to race. “What is it?”
“A motion-detector alert was triggered. In the woods.”
“In the woods here?” My voice cracks on the last word.
“Yes.” He’s stepped away from me, sliding his fingers across the screen of the tablet, checking out the feed from the variety of cameras they set up as part of the security system they installed on my property. “Shit.”
“What is it? Is he here? I thought they had him cornered.”
“It must have been a strategic diversion.” He turns away, talking urgently into his headset. He’s calling back Mick, who must be less than ten minutes away, and updating the others.
Montaigne is here. Sneaking through the woods surrounding my cottage.
And there’s no one here to protect me.
Except an injured Caleb.
“Oh my God,” I choke out when he’s stopped talking to the others. “Can we just get into the car and drive away?”
“We can’t risk you being out in the open. And he might be counting on that.” He grabs one of my arms again and drags me with him through the kitchen and down the hall.
I’m so scared and disoriented I stumble, and I would have fallen if Caleb weren’t holding me up. “But you’re injured! You can’t?—”
“Yes, I can. I have to.”
We’ve reached the guest room, and he grabs something from the top of the dresser. When he starts to strap it on, I realize it’s a bulletproof vest and he’s putting it on over his T-shirt and sweats.
The sight of it terrifies me. I make a gurgling sound.
“Baby, I’ve got this. I’m not going to let him get to you.”
“I’m not scared forme!” The words burst out of me, nakedly true.
The tension on his face breaks just slightly as he picks up two different weapons. “Protecting you is my job. It’s what I do. It’s why I was put on earth. You’ve got to let me do it.”
There’s no arguing with the gruff earnestness of his words. I let him lead me into my bedroom and then over to my big closet.
It makes sense. It’s one of the few enclosed spaces in this house without any windows.
