keys. There’s a note of something in his voice that throws me off. It’s probably only concern, but it sounds more intimate with his voice low the way it is.
A breeze whips around me and I hold my purse closer to my side, my keys in my hand. I hit the button to unlock my car, noting that it’s just the two of us now; the man I trust is a floor below. The beep resonates in the garage, bouncing off the concrete walls.
“Just shaken up,” I admit and try to get another look at his face, but he lowers his head as I do, so it’s only his sharp blue eyes that I get a glimpse of. Only a glimpse.
For a second, I think it’s Cody. A split second, but I know that’s only because I want it to be him. That disappointment only adds to my discomfort.
Slipping his hands into his pockets and nodding at the ground, he answers, “Yeah, I can imagine.” There’s an air about him that I’m drawn to. He’s intentionally keeping his distance, but there’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it.
Before unease can come over me fully, he turns his shoulder to me, effectively dismissing the moment, and tells me to drive safe. Taking it as my cue, I ready myself to get the hell out of here and go home. I miss my bed and the safety of those four walls.
The click to my door opening is met with the screech of wheels from someone on the street below and I glance up to see the security guard has already walked away and is standing at attention in front of the elevator. He stands with his back to it and I know that means he’s waiting until I drive down to leave.
My engine turns over and I put the car into drive before I can secure my seatbelt. I want to get the hell out of here.
I don’t expect Steve to step forward as my car rolls by him. With a racing heart, I slow and again I’m surprised when he offers me a folded piece of lined paper on my way down. My window’s rolled up and he didn’t block my way.
A part of me knows I don’t have to stop. I could keep going. If I wasn’t curious or I didn’t want to get a better look at the man, I would have done just that. I would have kept going and gone on my way guilt free.
I don’t put the car in park, but I do stop and roll down my window. I’m very much aware of the gun in my glove compartment.
“Delilah.” He calls me by my first name and a pang in my chest alerts me to it. “If you need me,” he says, slipping the paper through my window. With my fingers wrapped around it, he doesn’t let go. His eyes are sharp with slight wrinkles around them, showing his age. Mid-forties maybe. There’s a darkness that lies in the depths of his irises, and a severity in the way he looks at me. That’s not what has me sucking in a sharp breath; it’s the heat of his fingers as they press against mine until he lets go of the paper.
The contact is so hot, so unexpected, that I rip my gaze away from his to glance at the note in my hand. By the time I look back up, his back is to me and he takes his spot again at the elevator, not giving me a chance to respond.
Lifting my foot off the brake, I continue down to the ground floor of the garage and I don’t stop until I get to the exit. My head is a whirlwind and I’m so messed up right now, that by the time I reach for my pass to slip into the meter, I’ve convinced myself I’m making things up in my head. The note scared me more than I’d ever admit to anyone and I just wish the man were Cody. I miss him… worse… I feel like I need him.
The arm to the gate lifts and my eyes shift from the gate to the lined paper hurriedly tossed in an empty cup holder.
Taylor nods for me to leave but I don’t. I reach for the note and it crinkles as I unwrap it to read a phone number and then a name. A name that drains the blood from my face.