Page 139 of Secrets Beneath the Waves
Dante glanced across the street. “The guy across the street ratted me out, didn’t he?”
“He might have mentioned he’d seen your car parked here the past few nights. Do you have any idea what you are doing to my reputation?”
He winced. “I hadn’t thought about that. Sorry.”
Jules gripped the frame with both hands and leaned in closer. “Why are you doing this? I told you I could take care of myself.”
“I’m sure that woman in the alley felt the same way.”
When she flinched and let go of the frame, Dante rolled up the window and got out, closing the door lightly behind him. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. It’s just that, in my experience, people who are convinced they’ll be able to stand up against a sociopathic killer with no weapons or training or backup usually don’t come out of that confrontation okay.”
Dante ran a hand over his head. “Look. The truth is, I feel responsible for everything you are going through.”
Jules blinked. “Why?”
“Because it was my fault you were in the alley that night. If I hadn’t decided to…” He exhaled. “Well, if I’d treated you better, you wouldn’t have felt compelled to go out there.”
Jules sighed. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. I don’t hold you responsible for that. This is all on that creep messing with my head. So, consider yourself off the hook. Go home and get some rest. I’ll be fine.”
He shook his head. “As much as I appreciate you saying that, I can’t. Not until you’re someplace safe or this guy is behind bars. Preferably both.”
“I’ll call the police.” Even she heard the irony in her weak threat, which didn’t improve her mood.
Dante lifted both hands, palms up. “Nothing they can do. I’m not on your property or threatening you in any way. I’m allowed to pull over to the side of a public street and sleep if I’m too tired to be driving.”
She stared at him, unsure whether to scream, stomp her foot, or laugh. Confusing, infuriating man. Which Dante was this?
After a moment, her shoulders slumped. “If you’re not leaving, then you need to come inside, get some sleep on my couch.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “Are you sure?”
“Definitely not.”
He laughed. “Then I’ll agree before you change your mind.”
Resigned, Jules trudged back to the house, Dante trailing after her. What would the neighbors who, even at this late hour could certainly be watching, think about this development?
Jules straightened her shoulders. She knew and God knew—if he happened to be watching her with anything approaching the intense interest of her neighbors, which she doubted—that she wasn’t doing anything wrong.
After following her inside, Dante turned and locked the door. “You should get deadbolts.” He slid off his uniform jacket and slung it over the chair by the door.
“On my to-do list.”
“Good.”
“Feel free to use the bathroom. There are extra toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet. I’ll grab a blanket and pillow for you while you’re gone.”
He nodded and headed for the hallway. Jules opened the wooden chest at the back of the couch and tugged out a pillow and the pale-yellow quilt her grandmother had made for her when she turned sixteen. She’d just finished with the makeshift bed when Dante returned. Jules stepped back as he lowered himself onto the couch. “This is great, thanks.” Leaning forward a little, he stuck his fingers beneath the cushion.
Jules narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for this.” A smirk crossed his face as he held up the small kitchen knife she’d hidden there the first time he had knocked on her door.
“Oh.” Heat flushed her cheeks. “I forgot about that.” She held out a hand, and Dante set the knife carefully on her palm. “How did you know it was there?”
“I looked through the stained-glass window on the door before knocking the morning I came over. I saw you sit up and stick the knife under the cushion.”
While looking completely disheveled, no doubt. Jules shook that off. Who cared what she looked like when she was around him? “It made me feel better.”
