Page 89 of Against the Autumn Pines
Stretching my arm out, the other side of the bed was cold. I wasn’t sure how to fully grasp the fact that I was bothered that he wasn’t next to me, but I could hear him, so he wasn’t far.
“I understand that, I do. I just don’t give a shit, detective.” His words sounded far away, and I wanted to crawl out of bed and wrap my arms around him, but I also didn’t want to interrupt his phone call.
“I sent you everything we captured on the cameras, so why the fuck do you need her there to interview? You havehis face there in a clear 4k video, along with us sleeping. What else do you need from us?” he demanded.
Pushing myself up, I watched him pace up and down the hallway. His tall frame moved in and out of view as he passed the doorway. The door was just cracked a few inches open, and CC was on the edge of the bed watching me, his bright orange eyes telling me that he indeed did open the door, and it was time for me to wake up and love him.
He paced over towards me, plopping down beside me and rolling onto his back, his little white paws in the air as he stared at me.
“Good morning to you too,” I whispered as I rubbed his head and behind his ears.
Wyatt sighed. “Can we go upstairs at all? Have the inspectors been there?” He sounded exhausted, and I started wondering just how much sleep he didn’t get last night. Glancing over, I tapped my phone, but it didn’t respond. I hadn’t plugged the stupid thing up, and now it was dead.
“Lovely,” I muttered to myself. Picking it up, I reached over to Wyatt’s side and used his charger to plug mine up.
“Yeah, I got it. I’ll be there soon.” I leaned against the headboard and listened as he sighed and slowly pushed the door open, clearly still expecting me to be asleep.
Our eyes locked, and he licked his lips nervously. “How much of that did you hear?”
I shrugged. “Not much.”
He walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at me, the unease clear in his eyes.
“Talk to me, Wyatt. I’m not going to break in a million pieces.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving my face. Afraid he’d miss some sort of reaction if I had to guess.
“How are you feeling?”
I rolled my eyes as CC crawled into my lap and rubbed his head against my hand, asking for pets. I obliged him, if only to have something mindless to do with my hands.
“I don’t know. Numb? I don’t think it’s really hit yet, but I’m sure it will when I go home.” I shrugged, unsure of how else to put my words into vocal thoughts. “You said you had video? Can I?—”
He shook his head, cutting me off. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Ember.”
My teeth grinding together, I stared at him. “I’m not a child, Wyatt. I’ll just check the feed myself if you don’t want to show me. It’s my goddamn building and I have the right to know who and what happened to my business. My home.”
His eyes finally broke from mine, dropping to the floor, and I could tell he was clenching and unclenching his fist. I used to think that was his way of calming down when he was angry—but I’d started to realize it wasn’t that at all. It was his way of managing feelings when he couldn’t control everything.
He wasn’t angry; he just didn’t like the feeling of the world spinning without him and his direct command of go.
I didn’t know why I was lashing out at him. I knew who was responsible for this—he’d told me as much the last time he’d walked into the bakery. I knew who to blame, but it didn’t stop my brain from going a million miles an hour while trying to sort through the feelings.
“When do we need to leave?” I asked when he clearly wasn’t going to respond to me again.
“I told him we’d be there in about an hour,” Wyatt said calmly.
I nodded. “Good. I’m going to shower, and no. I don’t want company.”
He glared at the floor, and I climbed off the opposite sideof the bed. I knew I was being a brat, but I also knew he had no right to control every aspect of my life, even if he wanted to. I was a grown adult, and that didn’t change just because we had some great sex and he said he loved me.
Time felt like it slowed as I showered and dressed. I didn’t have a ton of clothes here, but I did have a pair of jeans and a closet full of Wyatt’s clothes. Shoes, on the other hand, were a different story.
I’d started making a mental list as I stood in the shower, trying to wash more of the negative energy from my skin.
However, now, standing in the middle of Wyatt’s closet as I pulled on a black t-shirt and tucked the front into my jeans, all I could think about was what I would be walking into this afternoon. Running my fingers through my hair, I stared at myself in the floor-length mirror he had on the back of his closet door.
“I can do this,” I whispered to myself. “I’ve done hard shit my entire life, and that hasn’t changed so far.”
