Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it.
Standard disclaimer.
Extremely long chapter. Forgive any outstanding mistakes, I'm too tired to re-read.
As I sat on the toilet in my bathroom, I started to call the first person who came to mind...Sam.
My finger was right over his contact number, when I stopped.
What was the point in calling him?
He wouldn't answer.
Close to tears, I started to call Ryder, but remembered he was out of town.
Part of me recognized I wasn't thinking right. I needed to call the police. Someone had been in my apartment while I slept and they could still be here.
But my brain cells weren't communicating with one another.
So I called Noah.
He answered on the second ring.
"Mercedes?"
"Did I wake you?" Stupid question, but that's what came out of my mouth.
"No. I haven't gone to sleep yet. Are you okay?"
Staring at the bathroom door, I pulled my legs up to my chest. A buzzing picked up in my ears, like I was sitting next to a hive of bees.
"I...I think someone is in my place."
"What?" His voice came across as sharp as a whip.
I drew in a shuddering breath and whispered,
"I woke up and there was a picture of me on my phone...a picture of me sleeping."
"Holy shit!"
"I didn't take the picture..." I inhaled deeply, but it got stuck. "...There's been all kinds of weird stuff happening here. My dishwasher turned on while I wasn't home. I found the remote in the fridge...the toilet seat was left up...and other stuff. I thought my place was haunted, but this...I know someone...a living, breathing someone...had to do this."
"Jesus, Mercedes, are the police on their way?" he demanded.
"No. I didn't call them."
There was a nanosecond of silence.
"Did you call Sam?"
"No." I straightened, putting my toes on the cool tile. "I can't call him. He..."
"Are you fucking out of your mind, girl? You need to call the police right now. Wait!" He sounded like he was moving. Then a door slammed shut. "Where are you?"
"I'm in my bathroom." I stood, pushing my hair back from my face. "I just wasn't thinking. I woke up, saw the picture and panicked."
"I'm heading over to your place now and I'm calling Sam. He's off on Fridays, right? He'll ans..."
"Don't call him. Please don't call him." I squeezed my eyes shut. "He isn't...we aren't really talking right now and I don't want him to...just don't call him."
Truth was, I knew how crazy this was, how utterly bizarre it was, to wake up and find a picture of myself on the phone.
Someone could easily believe that I'd done it for attention, and the way things were with Sam right now, I didn't want him to think that.
"Are you there?" I asked.
"Yes. I'm coming to you, but I need you to get off the phone and call the police. You need to do that right now," Noah said, his voice calm, as I heard an engine roar to life.
"And you need to stay in that bathroom, until you hear from me or the police. Do you understand?"
I felt stupid for not calling the police immediately.
"Okay. I'm going to call them now. I'm sorry..."
"Don't apologize, Mercy. Call the police. I'll be right there."
I did what I should've done immediately. I called the police.
The dispatcher didn't laugh hysterically in my ear, when I told her that I'd woken up and found a picture of myself sleeping on the cell.
She took my information, and stayed on the phone, until Noah beeped in on the other line, letting me know he was outside.
I had no idea how he got to my place so fast. The number of laws he had to have broken, astonished me.
Opening the bathroom door, was the scariest thing I'd ever had to do.
My entire body shook, as I grabbed the doorknob.
When I did, I expected to see a serial killer in a clown mask waiting for me, but the hall was empty. So I ran to the door a second time.
Noah came in, dressed like he had been, earlier at the bar.
He barely looked at me, as he took my free hand in his and started turning on the lights throughout the apartment.
"Were you in your bedroom?"
"Yes. I was in bed." My voice cracked, as I followed him on shaky legs.
He steered me towards the couch.
"Stay here."
Reaching behind me, he tugged the quilt off the couch, draping it over my bare legs. It was then, I realized, I was wandering around in my undies and tank top.
"I'm going to check out your bedroom real quick, okay?"
Numb, I tucked the blanket around my legs, as I clutched my phone.
The next several moments were surreal.
The moment Noah left the room, I didn't want to be alone.
Getting up, I wrapped the blanket around me and found him, just leaving my extra bedroom and heading into my main one.
He sent me a look, as he checked the window.
"I don't want to be by myself," I admitted hoarsely. I didn't want to be anywhere in the house alone.
He nodded and then crossed the room, opening the closet door. I could hear hangers banging around.
Then he turned to me.
"Do you have some bottoms you can put on? I think the police are outside."
Flushing, I hurried to the dresser and pulled out a pair of cotton shorts, just as Noah started to leave the room.
"Can you stay? Please?"
Running a hand through his dark hair, he turned around, giving me privacy.
"Jesus, Mercedes, I don't think I've ever seen you so scared."
I dropped the blanket and pulled the shorts on with shaking hands. Then I picked the blanket up once more, holding it to my chest.
I didn't say anything, as we went back out to the living room, but I could see blue and red lights flashing outside.
The officer who Noah let inside, was around Sam's age, and I vaguely recognized him. I've seen him in the bar a couple of times, with the other guys, but wasn't sure of his name.
Luckily he introduced himself, saving me the trouble of figuring it out.
Officer Tom Myers.
Ah, yes. Tommy Tom. I remembered him. That was San's nickname for him...I think he have the hots for her, because, I was pretty sure, he'd let her use him as a pole, a couple of times at the bar.
But none of this was important.
"I checked the apartment out," Noah said. "The window in the extra bedroom was open."
I gasped.
"What?"
"I think that's how someone got into your house. Odd thing is, though, I didn't see the screen."
"I don't...I don't have a screen in the window right now." I watched Officer Myers leave the room. "It was damaged a few months ago and the landlord was getting it repaired."
My breath hitched.
"The person came in through the window? Oh God..."
The officer did a quick search, that lasted all of a minute tops, before returning to the living room.
"What's going on, Mercedes?" he asked.
Sitting back down on the couch, wrapped in a blanket burrito, I told Tommy Tom about the picture.
His face was impressively blank, as he took the details and made his request.
"Can I see your phone?"
I handed it over, and when I looked down at my hand, the phone had left thin indentations in my palms.
"You have to go into the pictures," I said.
Noah sat on the arm of the couch. He was silent, but I appreciated his presence, knowing that I wasn't alone dealing with this.
It pierced me in the chest, when I thought that a few days ago, I could've called Sam.
Hell, even during the eleven months we hadn't been nice to each other, I probably wouldn't have hesitated to call him, and I believed without a doubt, that he would be here.
The dark blue uniform stretched across Officer Myers' shoulders, as he took a look at my phone, blonde brows raised, as he glanced up at me.
"And this was on your phone when you woke up?" When I nodded, he looked at the photo again. "There was no way this happened before tonight?"
I shook my head.
"No. Look at the date, plus, when I woke up, my screen was still lit up. It was just taken."
"Is there anyone who could've done this as a joke? Anyone who has access to your apartment?"
"Only my family has keys to my place and they wouldn't do this. Besides, Noah says the window was open in my other room. Obviously, if someone had keys, they wouldn't do that, would they?"
"People do stupid shit all the time, Mercedes. Shit that makes no sense," the officer explained.
Noah leaned forward.
"Tell Tom what you told me, that has been happening."
When Officer Tom's hazel eyes settled on me, I suddenly felt wary of what I was saying. It was like he was looking at me with suspicion, but doubt clouded his gaze.
I started to tell him, but a knock at the door caused me to jump.
"Expecting anyone?" he asked.
Noah stood, but when I shook my head, the officer motioned for him to stay back.
I was surprised when Noah listened, and even more shocked, when he moved to sit next to me.
"You hanging in there?" he asked in a low voice.
I nodded.
"Yeah. Thank you." My gaze flicked to where the officer was. From where I sat, I could see who it was, when the door opened.
It was James and what's his name...Kip, my upstairs neighbors.
"We saw the police lights," James said, as he strained to see over the officer. "We wanted to make sure Mercedes was okay."
The fact, they got up at this time in the morning to check on me, made me want to hug both of them.
"Everything's fine," Officer Tom advised. "But I need both of you to go back to your residences. If we need anything, we know where to find you."
James didn't budge.
"Mercedes is okay, right?"
"Yes. I'm okay." I raised my voice to make sure both guys could hear me, and I hated the way my voice shook. I hated being afraid like this. "Everything's okay."
Officer Tom managed to usher them out of the doorway, but he didn't close the door as I expected. Instead, he stepped aside and said,
"I got the call handled, bud."
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest as another police officer strode into my apartment. Except, it wasn't just any officer.
It was Sam.
Maybe I was hallucinating, and all of this was a nightmare.
Sam stalked into my apartment, like he belonged here.
Without responding to Officer Tom, he gave Noah a cursory glance, as he entered the living room.
"What in the hell is going on?" he asked.
Beyond the ability of forming a response, I stared up at him.
Officer Tom sighed, as he closed the front door.
"We got a call..." he started.
"I heard the call go through," Sam cut him off. His eyes were the darkest shade of green. "I couldn't believe it, when I heard the address for a possible break-in, because, all I could think, was it your house, you wouldn't just call the police." He thumped his hand off his chest, above the badge. "You'd call me."
My jaw unhinged.
Okay. I was seriously hallucinating.
"Thought you had Fridays off?" Noah commented dryly.
"I'm covering a shift tonight." Those nepeta green eyes cut to him. "What in the hell are you doing here?"
Noah leaned back, tossing an arm over the back of the couch.
"She called me."
Sam narrowed his gaze, on said arm behind me and asked,
"Did she?"
Officer Tom cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention.
"The window was open in the extra bedroom, and she says, there's a picture of her taken while she was sleeping."
The way he said it, with a touch of derision, snapped me out of my stupor.
"That is what happened," I said.
Sam cocked his head to the side, as his broad shoulders stiffened.
"What?"
"Someone took a picture of her, with her phone, while she was sleeping," Noah repeated, and it became obvious, that Sam hadn't heard that part of the call.
Had he just heard my address called out and rushed over here?
I didn't even know what to think of that.
Sam extended his hand to Officer Tom.
"Let me see it." The phone was handed over and then he cursed under his breath.
"The window in the room was open?"
Tom nodded.
"If it was locked, I have no idea how it would've gotten open. The glass wasn't broken." He looked at me. "I'm assuming, you normally lock your windows. If not, you might want to start doing that."
"I lock my windows." My fingers tightened on the edge of the blanket. "I always lock my windows."
Everyone in the room exchanged doubtful looks, which I understood, given the current situation.
"Wait," I said, scooting forward, so that my feet touched the floor. "What are you doing here, Sam?"
A muscle popped in his jaw.
"I cannot even believe you'd even ask that question. Well, you know what, I'm not that surprised."
"Excuse me?" I said.
His eyes glittered, as he stared down at me.
"You're seriously going to ask why I'm here?"
I came off the couch, dropping the blanket and going toe to toe with him, which meant I was at eye level with his chest, but whatever.
"Yeah, I'm going to ask that question and if you're surprised by it, then, you're an idiot!"
"An idiot?" The large hand wrapped around my phone rose, and he pointed towards my bedroom. "You left your bedroom window unlocked, knowing that there is someone in these counties..."
"I didn't leave my windows unlocked! Just like I didn't call you to come over!"
He lowered his chin, his eyes never leaving mine.
"We'll talk about this later, Mercedes."
Every emotion inside me boiled up and spilled over, at this point.
"This is crazy," I said, my hands clenching into fists. "You've been ignoring me for days. And you...you lied to me."
Sam drew back, flinching, as if I'd slapped him.
Heedless of the fact we had an audience, I didn't stop and I knew I should've. This was no one's business and my voice was cracking on every other word.
But how dare he stand here and act like he had a right to be here.
"You lied too, Sam. You told me everything would be okay and that you'd call me. Yeah, well, call me an idiot, but the last I checked, you didn't do that and things aren't okay. Oh, let's do lunch. Blah! You didn't even text me back, you rat bastard."
"Oh, wow, this is going in a direction I so did not expect," murmured Noah.
"Didn't text you back?" Sam's eyes widened. "I texted you back on Thursday. I told you in that text..." He cut himself off. "I texted you."
Stunned that he would tell such a bald-faced lie, I laughed harshly.
"No, you didn't."
Officer Tom glanced between the two of us, as he shuffled his weight from one foot to the next.
"Uh...guys, I think we need to get back..."
"Bullshit, Mercedes," Sam snapped. "I did text you back."
I folded my arms.
"Then your text just magically disappeared. Whatever. Don't you have another call to head to? I think Tom has this handled. Isn't that right, Tom?"
Officer Tom raised his hands, as if he was saying he wanted no part in this. A lot of help there.
"I can't believe this," Sam said.
He reached into his back pocket, with his other hand and pulled out his phone.
After tapping the screen, he flipped his phone around.
"Look at it," he said, and when I started to look away, he stepped closer. "Look at my phone, Mercedes."
Blowing out a rough breath, I reluctantly did as he asked...well, commanded.
I gave his phone a quick glance and opened my mouth, ready to fire off something smart-ass, when I smacked my mouth shut.
What the...?
I snatched the phone out of his hand, holding it close to my face, so I could make out the words and time.
Hey, let's reschedule lunch for Sunday. We can talk then.
The text was time-marked. It showed delivered...probably no longer than ten minutes, after I'd sent the text...while I had to have been in the shower.
I stared at the text, half expecting it to vanish, as a figment of my imagination.
"I swear," I whispered, looking up at him. "I never saw that text. I know it says delivered, but I never saw it."
Sam held my gaze for a long moment and then, he said,
"I thought you were pissed, that I was rescheduling." He gently pried his phone loose from my grip. "And that's why you didn't text back. And just so you know, I was planning on showing up here on Sunday, text or no text."
"Could someone have deleted the text before you saw it?" Noah suggested.
Cold air whirled down my spine and the tiny hairs along the back of my neck stood. This was crazy creepy.
"Who would break into the house to just delete a text?" Tom asked, crossing his arms. "Not to mention, get in the house at the right moment, to delete a text and only delete one from Sam? I'm not trying to be a jackass, but the likelihood of that happening is slim."
I know it sounded crazy, but that was what had to have happened.
I didn't see that text. If I had, I would've responded and that text would've saved some of the heartache. Not all of it, but some.
Though, right now, I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that, he had texted me and he had planned on seeing me.
But none of that seemed to matter in this moment.
Tension had crept over Sam's striking face, as he looked down at my cell phone. His knuckles were bleached white from his tight grip.
"That's not the only weird thing," Noah said, drawing Sam's unnerving stare. "Tell him what you were telling me."
I sat down on the edge of the couch, beyond unsettled.
"A couple of weeks ago, I came home from work and the dishwasher was running. I hadn't scheduled it to run. Honestly, I don't even know how to do that."
Officer Tom arched a brow.
"Keep talking," Sam said quietly.
It wasn't easy, because, I knew how insane all of this sounded.
"One morning, I woke up and found the remote in the fridge. I thought, maybe, I'd done that without remembering, but I've never done anything like that before. Then there was the toilet seat thing..."
As I spoke, Sam's empty hand curled into a fist.
"...I hadn't done that, either. I'm pretty sure of that. Then there was this other time, when a new canvas had been hung on my easel. Little things like that...things I couldn't be sure, if I'd done or not. I really thought my place might be haunted. I told my mom and San." A short laugh escaped me. "I know that sounds stupid, but then..."
I'd never seen Sam as still as he was, standing in front of me...or his arresting face so hard, as if every feature had been carved out of marble.
"Then what?" he asked.
I could feel my face burn. This was the last thing I wanted to mention in front of Tom and Noah.
"The really creepy thing...like as creepy as my picture being taken while I'm sleeping...happened a couple of days ago. Tuesday morning," I added, and Sam's gaze sharpened, as his chest rose. "I was putting the dishes in the dishwasher..."
"I remember that," he said.
Okay. Well, I guessed we weren't hiding anything at this point.
"...A pair..." I swallowed hard, as the burn intensified . "A pair of my undies was stuffed in the utensils cubby...and yeah, I didn't do that."
"Jesus," Noah muttered as he stood, scrubbing his hand through his hair.
He glanced back at the kitchen, his lip curling, like he was personally disgusted by the dishwasher.
Officer Tom didn't say anything. He just stared at me, with what had to be a 'what the fuck' expression, if I'd ever seen one.
But it was Sam, who caught and held my attention. He was as still as a statue, as he continued to stare down at me.
"Why didn't you say anything?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
My shoulders suddenly sagged, as a wave of exhaustion rolled over me.
"We were talking about...other stuff at that moment and I didn't..." I trailed off, shaking my head.
I knew the exact moment, he realized the meaning of that.
Blood pinked the hollow of his cheeks. That flush of anger, was actually kind of scary, and if I hadn't known deep down, that it wasn't directed at me, I would've been a wee bit frightened of him.
A myriad of raw-looking emotions flickered across Sam's face.
"I was here and..." He didn't finish that line of thought. He turned toward the other officer. "I got this call, Tom."
"But..."
"I got this call," he reiterated, voice hard enough, to send a shiver across my skin.
Tom stared at him a moment and then rolled his eyes.
"Whatever." Hitting a button on his shoulder radio, he said "I'm ten–eight. Unit Three-o-one is handling the possible break-in."
There was a static-filled response I barely heard, and then, Officer Tom showed himself out.
Noah remained standing by the recliner. He raised a hand, rubbing his jaw.
"You're okay?"
I wasn't sure I wanted Noah to leave, because, that meant it would just be me and Sam, but I knew he had to be, as exhausted as I was.
I nodded.
"Thank you for coming up. I owe you."
Sam cast his gaze to the window, his jaw working.
"You don't owe me anything," Noah said and then glanced at Sam. His eyes narrowed. "You sure you're good here now?"
"Yeah," I murmured, my thoughts in a thousand different places.
After a brief hug, Noah stood and made to leave. He stopped at the door, with a grin on his face and it warned of trouble.
"By the way," he said, "I loved the bows on your panties."
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Sam's jaw became so hard, I thought it would snap off, as he watched Noah saunter out the door.
Then, it was just us.
He stood with his back to me for several seconds and then wheeled around. Walking over, he sat on the edge of the coffee table, directly in front of me.
"Are you okay?"
'Yes. No. Maybe?'
I had no idea. I was feeling way too much.
Scared wasn't even the right word for how I felt. Someone had been in here...repeatedly. I felt...violated, like all my walls had been stripped away from my home, and I felt stupid, that I'd chalked up all the weird happenings, as something supernatural.
Then again, why would anyone jump to the conclusion, that someone was breaking into the house, just to mess with things inside of it?
I shuddered, as it really hit home.
Someone had been in my apartment.
Someone had been in here many times, even while I was here.
The residual fear peaked once more.
How in the hell would I feel safe in this house again?
Having that taken from me, angered me, and there was nothing I could do about it.
"I don't know what to feel," I said finally, leaning back against the cushion.
Sam rested his arms on his bent knees, as he let out a weary-sounding sigh.
My gaze flicked up, collided with his and held. Instantly, the shields dropped, and I sucked in an unsteady breath.
He looked conflicted...torn. As if he was experiencing the same wild range of emotions that I was.
"Why didn't you tell me this stuff was happening?" he asked.
I ducked my chin, shrugging.
"I honestly thought my place was haunted. I mean, why would I think someone was breaking in, just to move stuff around and do weird things like that? And some of the stuff, I could've been responsible for, without realizing...or that I'd forgotten about, like the dishwasher, the remote...stuff like that."
"Did you stick your own panties in the dishwasher?"
"No." I made a face.
"Then, you knew it couldn't be you, baby." He straightened, looking around the house. "When was the last time, before you found them in there, that you were using the dishwasher?"
I knew what he was thinking.
"I hadn't checked the dishwasher Monday."
"But you were home all day, right?"
Nodding, I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around my knees. He didn't need to say it out loud. I knew what he was thinking.
Tonight wasn't the first time, the person had gotten into my apartment while I slept. It was the only plausible explanation.
Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead against my knees.
My voice sounded incredibly small when I spoke.
"Why would someone do this?"
"To mess with your head, Mercedes. These kinds of things...what was happening here...were minor enough, that it wigged you out and you questioned it, but most importantly, you questioned yourself. Which meant you didn't tell anyone. You kept it to yourself." There was a pause. "Fuck, Mercedes, I wish I knew. There was no reason for you to deal with this alone."
"You believe me?" I asked. My voice was muffled by my legs.
"Why in the hell wouldn't I believe you?"
I gave a lopsided shrug. "Tom was giving me a WTF look. I don't blame him. It all sounds highly suspect."
"Fuck Tom. He's an idiot. And when I get my hands on whoever is messing with you, I'm seriously going to fucking kill him. But that's something we'll talk about later."
My head shot up and I gaped at him. His reaction shocked me, all things considered.
Sam stood.
"I don't want you staying here," he said.
The idea of staying here, especially right now, was something I also did not want to do.
"I'm also going to need to take your phone in, to see if we can get prints off it that aren't mine, yours, or Tom's. Noah hasn't touched it, right?"
I shook my head. Tonight has been a blur.
"I don't think so."
"Do you have an extra phone you can switch service to, in the meanwhile?"
"Yeah. I have an older one."
"Good. Why don't you pack up some stuff," he said, stepping around the couch. "I'll take you to my place. I still got a couple of hours left on my shift, but at least you'll be able to get some sleep."
I was back to thinking I was hallucinating things.
When I didn't move, he continued.
"That works out perfectly. I need you to talk to Stevie. He can come by my place. He's been investigating what's been happening around these parts. That's why I had to go let out his dog, Tuesday morning."
It struck me then, the conversation between Brody and Ryder.
"The girl who works at Brody's training place...?"
Sam's eyes narrowed on me.
"You heard?"
"Yeah, Brody was in the bar. He said..." I shivered. "...He said, she was really messed up. Was she...?" I couldn't even bring myself to say it.
Cop Face appeared. All emotion gone.
"I can't go into details. Not because I don't trust, that you'd keep it quiet, but it's out of respect for the victim. But we're pretty sure, all the attacks recently, are linked. The violence has been escalating."
"To what?" I whispered.
His gaze held mine.
"It's been physical...worse than you can imagine."
A shudder of revulsion rolled through me.
"Oh my God, those poor girls. I..." My eyes widened. "You don't think this has anything to do with what happened to them?"
He knelt down, placing a hand on my knee.
"I don't know, but nothing...I swear it...nothing like that is going to happen to you. Now, come on, let's get going."
I watched him straighten and turn.
"Wait. I can't go to your place."
Facing me, he cocked his head to the side.
"Why not?"
"Why not? Um...I think you pretty much made it clear that you...that I lied and you can't deal with that. So I can't stay with you." There was no way I could put myself through that. "I can go to my parents."
Sam's face softened by a degree.
"You and I still need to talk. Now just isn't the right time for that. You're coming home with me."
My eyes narrowed.
"I really don't think you have the right to be so bossy."
"Do you really want to wake up your parents, and scare them like that? I know you see what time it is."
I gaped at him.
"Dammit, you're right, but that's low."
"It's not low. It's just the truth," he replied. "Come on, let's get your stuff and get you the hell out of here."
Honestly, I could sit there and argue with him. I could go to San's place, or wait until it was a more decent hour, but I could see the determination etched into his features.
This wasn't a battle I'd win easily and frankly, I was exhausted and I didn't want to be here any longer than I had to.
Dragging myself up, I headed back to my bedroom with him in tow.
While I grabbed some clothes, he checked out the other room.
Being in my room gave me the creeps, and I didn't know if that was going to ever change.
I exhaled roughly, fighting the urge to cry.
Sam came out of my second bedroom, his face a shade or two paler. I stilled, my hand hovering over the strap on my overnight bag.
"Did you find something?"
He blinked and he shook his head.
"No. You almost ready?"
Slipping a long, thick sweater on, that reached my knees, I grabbed my bag and slipped my feet into my flats.
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.
Sam was silent, as he led me out of the house and locked up.
As I stepped off the porch, both upstairs apartments had lights on, and I told myself, I needed to bake them cookies or something, for checking in on me.
I got to sit in the passenger seat of a police cruiser...which, surprisingly, smelled pleasant, like fresh apples.
Any other time, I would have been excited about all the buttons and potential noise-making power, but I stared out the window, into the darkness, as dawn steadily crept over the horizon.
"You hanging in there?" Sam asked.
Glancing over at him, I was struck with the urge to reach out and smooth my fingers along his jaw...to touch him. For him to touch me.
"Yeah. I'm okay."
He sent me a sideways look, that was a cross between amused and worried.
"It's all right not to be okay in a situation like this."
I lowered my gaze to my hands, keeping my mouth shut.
We didn't speak again, as we drove to his place.
Sam lived in a condo near Ryder's...a rather large apartment on the third floor.
He let me in, and the crisp scent of laundry greeted me, as I stepped inside.
Quietly, he eased around me, flipping on the lights and I blinked against the brightness, wondering how my night had ended up, with me staying at his place.
He had a wide foyer, that led into a large galley kitchen and dining room.
The living room was neat, with the exception of a basket of laundry, sitting on the coffee table.
He frowned when he saw it.
Walking over to the basket, he picked it up.
"You know where the bed is, and if I remember correctly, you thought it was really comfortable, so make yourself at home," he said.
Surprise fluttered through me, at the lack of rancor in his tone, as he mentioned that night.
I hadn't moved very far, only placing my bag near the couch, by the time Sam reappeared in the living room.
Amused, I watched him swipe up a bag of chips that was on the end table and take them to the trash in the kitchen.
"I've got to head to the office, and get your phone to Evidence, to see if we can do prints," he said, running a hand through his hair.
The movement caused his biceps to strain against the hem of his uniform.
"I've got a landline in several rooms and the number to the office is on the fridge. Call that or my cell if you need to. I should be back a little after eight or so."
I nodded.
He stopped in front of me, and I drew in a deep breath.
Pulling the sides of my sweater tight, I lifted my chin and his eyes searched mine.
"I'm not really okay with what happened," I admitted in a small voice. "Any of it."
Somehow, I think he got that, I wasn't just talking about what happened in my apartment. For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to say anything. That he'd just turn around and walk out of his apartment.
But then, he moved forward and slowly...oh so slowly...wrapped one arm around my shoulders and tugged me close.
I hesitated for a second and then I went, pressing my cheek against his chest.
The cool edge of his badge was sharp against my cheek, but I didn't care, because, the warmth of his body...of his embrace...was worth it.
His other hand cupped the back of my neck and he lowered his chin to the top of my bowed head.
He drew in a deep breath I could feel, and I closed my eyes.
"I know," he replied in a rough voice. "I know, baby."
Sam held me for a few seconds more and then he stepped back.
The hand around my neck slipped to my cheek, as his eyes met mine.
"Get some rest. I'll be back as soon as I can."
I didn't move, until I heard the door close and lock and I still didn't move for several minutes.
Sam said to take his bed, but there was no way I could sleep back there. Not with how things were left between us.
Yes, he was helping me out now, but he was a good guy. And that's what good guys do.
Moving two of the throw pillows to one side of his overstuffed beige couch, I dragged the quilt off the back and then stretched out.
The cushions sucked me in immediately, and when I closed my eyes, I knew it wouldn't take me long to sleep.
As crazy as it sounded, I felt safe here and I didn't fight the sleep that tugged at me.
I slipped into a dreamless sleep, for how long, I just didn't know.
Minutes? Hours, maybe?
But it was the deep kind of sleep, that when I woke from it, I couldn't figure out my surroundings right off.
I was at Sam's place. Right. I remembered that, falling asleep almost immediately, on his really comfy couch.
He had really good taste in furniture.
I started to stretch, but stilled, when I realized the couch was oddly hard...and warm.
Confused, I moved my right hand and it slipped over something, as smooth as silk, stretched over marble...as warm as before...and rippled.
My fingers dipped. Was that a navel?
My eyes flew open.
Holy moley! I was so not where I'd fallen asleep. This was not the couch I was plastered against, or currently feeling up.
It was Sam...a sleeping, shirtless Sam.
I was curled up close against him, and I was in his bed. Well' I'll be..."
Stay safe!