to a crick in my neck in the recliner, I watch the hallway, waiting to see if she’s going to need me.
I only saw a six-pack of mini wine bottles, of which I disposed of in the park trash, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t drink more and discard the empty containers before I got there. I seethe at the idea of her being alone in that park. The crime rate isn’t high in that area, but anything could happen at any time.
Resisting the urge to curl up outside the bedroom door, I let my eyes close, but my senses are on full alert. I locked the door so she’ll feel safe, but my heart pounds with thoughts of her needing me and not being able to get to her.
I tell myself that she’s a grown woman, not a sick child, but it doesn’t do much to calm the irrational fear. My fingers are tapping on my chest in arrhythmic anxiety, but I hold steady.
Would she freak if I jimmied the lock open and slept in the bed beside her?
If I did that, would I be able to keep to the far side of the bed, or would I wake up with my arms wrapped around her?
I know the answer to that question no matter how much I want to deny the truth. It’s nearly impossible to keep from touching her during the daylight hours when we’re awake. Keeping my distance while sleeping wouldn’t happen. With the rising sun, I’d have her cocooned in my arms.
I roll my head on my shoulders with the image I’ve conjured of her soft breath ghosting over my bare chest. Because, of course, I’d only be wearing a pair of boxers.
Jesus, I have to stop.
Shaking my head, I open my eyes, but staring at the sliver of light between the front curtains from the streetlight outside doesn’t deter my focus.
When the dog from down the street starts barking, I’m out of the recliner with my nose to the window’s glass. The noise gives me an excuse to move, but my reasoning isn’t sane. That dog barks every night at the same time when his owner comes home from his second-shift job. I could set my watch by it, but tonight things seem different. Sophia is in my home, intoxicated and vulnerable, and my sense of protection is at an all-time high.
After the dog settles, I slowly make my way down the hall. My ear to the door allows me to hear the soft snores coming from inside, but instead of backing away, I let a smile take over my face as I stand and listen for several long minutes.
“This is stupid,” I mutter, but it takes another minute before I pull my face away and head back into the living room.
With determination, I flop back down in the recliner, pull the thin blanket up to my chin, and close my eyes.
I helped a friend out this evening and nothing more. I would’ve done the same for nearly everyone down at the station had they needed help. Granted, I probably wouldn’t have brought them home, but she was adamant about not letting her dad know what was going on. I now know that’s because she doesn’t want to disappoint him, not out of fear. I don’t have a daughter, but I can’t say that I’d do things much differently if I did. Dominic was given this precious gift, and he’s spent his life protecting it. I’ve only known her for a few weeks and I have this incessant urge to behave exactly the same way.
Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to take a long look in the mirror and be able to convince myself that worrying about Sophia isn’t my place. She has men in her life—namely her father, uncle, and probably every other man at the Cerberus clubhouse—that are looking out for her.
I just have to make it until the sun rises, and the day will look completely different. Things always seem dire in the middle of the night.
With my eyes squeezed shut, I start the backward countdown from a thousand.
Only it takes me doing it four times before I’m finally able to fall asleep.
Chapter 10
Sophia
The mild headache I wake with is a better outcome than I deserve.
The scent of Colton under my head is a reward I didn’t earn with truthfulness.
It doesn’t stop me from burying my head deeper to take the spiciness of his cologne into my lungs,