Page 196 of Let Me In

“Good girl,” he says under his breath. “You always fit just right.”

My eyes sting, but I nod against his chest.

His hands are warm, steady at my waist. I breathe him in, letting my eyes close.

We sit there for a long time, just breathing. Just being.

And then, when the quiet has stretched long enough to feel like a second skin, he speaks again.

Steady. Gentle.

But unmistakablyDaddy.

“Let’s talk about what happens next.”

His voice is low. Close. Not heavy, not cold—but anchored.

I stiffen slightly anyway. Not because I expect the worst, but because I always do. Because it always has been.

He notices. Of course he does. One hand moves up to the back of my neck. The other stays at my waist, holding steady.

“You’re not in trouble,” he says softly, without me even having to ask.

“I know,” I whisper. But I don’treallyknow. Not yet.

That’s what he’s here for. To teach me what it means to be safe in something, to be safe with someone.

He waits until I settle again. Until my body gives just a little more weight into his chest.

Then he speaks, even and sure.

“I took care of something last night.”

My body goes still. In the way that says I’m listening. Not quite bracing.

His hand doesn’t stop stroking my spine.

“I’m not going to tell you what. You don’t need that on your shoulders.”

My eyes burn, but I don’t interrupt.

“But it matters. Because it means we’re not looking overourshoulders anymore—not the same way.”

Another slow stroke of his palm.

“What comes next is planning. Preparing. Keeping the shadows out there.”

He tips his head down, lips grazing my temple.

“But what’s in here, little one—this home, these mornings, you—that stays soft. That stays safe. Always.”

I exhale, slow and shaky.

His voice dips lower. More certain.

“So to do that… I’ve got some rules for us now. Not to control you. Not to change you.”

He pauses. Tilts my chin gently so I’ll meet his gaze.

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