Page 17 of Reclaimed

“The sheriff says it fits the profile of a serial killer.” The wobble in her voice pierces me in the fucking heart.

“Hey, nothing is going to happen to you.” I tense my fingers where they still wrap around her elbow, wishing I could yank her into a tight hug. Anything to reassure her and wipe that distressed look from her face.

“I know. They just told us today before it hits the general news, so I don’t get why Lucien has to be such a massive dick about it.”

“Forget him. If you need someone to walk you out, you come to me.”

“I didn’t know if after last week…”

“I’ll always be here to walk you out, even if you give me the silent treatment the entire time.”

“I’m not too good at staying silent,” she quips.

I bite back a grin. “Let’s get you home. I don’t like standing out here talking about this.”

“Thank you for walking me out.”

“Get in the car, Isla.”

She shakes her head. “I’ve got it from here, Powell.”

“I know you do. But I’m going to make sure you can walk back in safely too and that means following you home.”

6

Isla

“You really didn’t haveto follow me home.” I wrap my fingers around Aiden’s open window. The wind tosses a strand of hair across my cheek, and I watch his eyes track the movement.

“No use in arguing now since we’re here.” He flashes me a soft grin, the humor falling just short of his eyes.

As the quiet night stretches around us, a shiver prickles my spine. “I’m glad you had the time to waste. Truly, Aiden. Now get out of here before my neighbor Julie notices you and starts asking questions.”

“I think I can handle a nosy neighbor.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”

That puts another smile on his face. “Are you afraid of little old ladies?”

“I’m afraid of little old ladies who size up men like she wishes they would spank her with her wooden baking spoon. Seriously, you should hear the way she talks about our mailman.”

His face twists in horror. “I’ve heard enough.”

“She’d like to see what his package can deliver.”

Aiden fakes a gag. “I get the picture.”

Our bubble of humor vanishes as I straighten and take in the dark night. This part of the street isn’t well lit. “I suppose you’re going to watch me walk inside.”

“Won’t leave until you’re securely behind the locked door.”

“Thank you.” I muster sincerity despite the tickle of worry. The confidence is a front I don’t entirely feel. “I know it’s silly.”

“Your safety is never worth taking lightly.”

And I’m not the only one I’m protecting. But he doesn’t know that.

I fight the impulse to rub my palm over my belly and pick up my duffel near my feet instead.

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