for both of us. Hell, I’m starting to think the rest of the world winced when that man died. The tiny, fucked up slice of my brain that whispers “It’s your turn now” after he passed away gets stronger with each passing second. I’m going to make her mine no matter how ragged the holes in her heart are. I can heal her. I know I can. She just needs to trust me enough to give me that chance.
As I approach her house from my truck, I notice a side window ajar. Not all the way open, not even halfway…just a sliver. Squinting my eyes in the dark, I scan the area surrounding the window and her house. A garden light that’s been forked in the yard is smashed—possibly stepped on. I pick it up and creep to the window stealthily. I know from installing her new security cameras that this is a window that’s completely hidden. Someone could sneak in and out through this window and the cameras wouldn’t detect movement. Mother fucker. I should have known better. Morganna didn’t disarm her security system when we came back from the party, meaning she never set it before she left. Anger mixes with adrenaline and I could kill someone right now. Literally. The pit inside that gives me what others fail to have, rears. My breathing evens, my heart rate steadies, and I’m ready to work.
“What the hell happened here,” I growl, now on full alert, adrenaline hitting my system like a dose of some illegal drug. I drop the light on the ground and proceed to make a full lap around her house, clearing the perimeter—checking each corner. When I affirm that nothing else is amiss, I slide back into her house hoping she’s busy with work so I can investigate without her knowledge.
I case her house thoroughly. No one is in here now, maybe no one ever was, but I’m cautious where these things are concerned. Add M to the mix and you might as well have fucked with me, because that’s how I’m going to treat it. Nothing that I can see is misplaced or disturbed. I close and lock the suspect window. I have one more thing to check—her bedroom. Currently, she’s occupying this room with the door closed. Part of me wants to warn her. The other, smarter section of my brain wants to protect her. That means she can’t know anything. It would only scare her and potentially for no reason.
I blow out a breath in the hallway outside of her bedroom. She will kill me if she finds out that I kept something from her. If it even ends up being something… but I can protect her. I always have, so I brush it off and start a mental checklist of everything that needs to happen. Just because she’s independent and takes care of herself does not mean a little help wouldn’t hurt if she’s unaware of it.
Add another camera.
Motion detectors outdoors.
Automatic system arming from remote location.
Luckily, for the interim she will be right next to me—an entire week in our hometown without any disturbances or distractions. This is my chance to make her see everything I’ve always felt for her. I’ll be open. Maybe I’ll joke a little less. Show her a more serious side. Boyfriend material. Morganna deserves the best of everything. The figurative shoes I have to fill are large and strong. I can’t even remember the last time she went home, so when she asked if I was going for Christmas I jumped at the chance just for close proximity alone. The rest of my plan to woo her came after I agreed to ride with her. After all this time I have one chance to knock this out of the park…to do things the proper way.
Leaning my head against the cold wall, I glance at a huge framed photo of Morganna. It’s the only art she has hanging in this expansive, red hallway. She’s removed photos—I can still see the holes in the wall waiting to be patched. In the lonely portrait it’s only her face turned away, her black wavy hair and bridal veil blowing in the wind. The sunlight masks her face, and it could be any bride, in any city, on any given day. The non-descript simplicity takes my breath away. Her beauty is unfailing even when hidden by a shock of white. I also come to the conclusion that this could be Morganna on