Mace pul ed up the gravel drive at the side of the house and I pul ed myself out of my thoughts.
My van was parked by Swen and Ulrika’s Volvo.
I didn’t have to ask how it got there.
Mace.
I didn’t say anything. I was glad I didn’t have to go back to Lindsey’s to get it. I was also glad I wasn’t talking to him or I’d have to say thanks.
He parked and my hand went to the door handle.
“Don’t get out until I open your door for you,” Mace ordered, bossy as al hel .
I sighed but didn’t answer. He got out, skirted the hood, eyes scanning and he came around and opened the backdoor. Juno bounded out. Mace grabbed the workout bag in the back, slammed the door and opened mine. I exited the vehicle with a lot less enthusiasm.
Mace crowded me in a protective way and didn’t waste any time getting Juno and me in the house.
This played havoc with my already tattered guilt. I may not have wanted to be back together with Mace but it didn’t go unnoticed that he was taking care of me and he was being very serious about that task. It also didn’t go unnoticed that this was not because I was someone to protect but because I was his someone to protect.
Effing hel .
We walked silently together up the stairs and Mace made me stand in the hal after he unlocked my door (I’d never asked for my key back, this would have necessitated me cal ing him which might have descended into me begging him to come back which was not something I wanted to do, nunh-unh, no way, therefore I let him keep the key).
He walked in my place, I heard some weird beeping then I heard him doing a walkthrough of the house and final y he cal ed Juno and me in.
We walked in, Juno turning left, probably to hit the bed in order to take the al important Big Dog Nap Number Fifteen for the day.
She skidded to a halt on the stairs, stumbled a bit and stared ahead of her in confusion.
I stared too.
The room was dark, blinds I hadn’t owned when I left two nights ago were pul ed low. The bed was moved over to where my guitars were. My guitars were now in the middle, the couch where my bed was.
“What the –?” I started.
Mace closed the door and tossed the bag on the platform where the couch now resided.
I stood staring as Mace went up the platform and turned on a light then came back to me. His hand in his pocket, he pul ed out something that clinked.
He got close to me but pointed at the door.
“New deadbolt, chain, peephole. Use the last two when you’re in the house. Always use the first one. Not just during this situation, al the time,” Mace ordered, handing me a key.
I took the key but stared at my door which now had three locks and a new peephole.
Effing, bloody hel .
Mace grabbed my hand and pul ed me two steps to the side of the door.
“Alarm panel,” he announced, dropping my hand, pointing at a new box on the wal and flipping it open. “This is your combination. Memorize it.” He handed me a slip of paper.
I looked at the paper, read the numbers, read them again, repeated them in my head and made a wonky, only understood by me mathematical formulation of them (something I did when I had to memorize numbers).
“Got it memorized?” Mace asked.
I looked at him and nodded, not speaking because I couldn’t find my voice, not because I wasn’t talking to him.
At that juncture, I kind of forgot about my latest plan.