Page 195 of Fury

“It’s all in the details—the materials, the workmanship.”

I held her steady gaze, my pulse racing. We were talking about bras and panties and stringy things.

“I’m worth it,” she added. “I mean, the pieces—they’re unique.”

“Yeah.”You are. You’re worth everything.

“Can I get you something to drink? Or eat?”

I untied the bandana from my neck. “Water would be good. Thanks.”

Lenore left the room, and I finally let go of that pent up breath I’d been holding since I’d walked through the door. I toed off my boots and took in her living room. Full of color, pulsing with peacock blues, minty greens, soft pinks, pale golds. A variety of thick pillows on the floor and the long L-shaped sectional sofa, Persian-type rugs, long sweeping curtains. A vintage glass carafe in a burnt orange color sat on the coffee table before me, it’s neck wrapped with a gold necklace with tiny red beads. Her furniture was a variety of natural woods and burnished metals. Her home was warm, comfortable, quirky. Refreshing. I’d never experienced anything like it.

I rubbed the back of my aching neck. Was this how she’d always lived? I’d never been able to go to any of her apartments in Chicago, and suddenly that bothered me. I’d never considered that before, that I was missing out. But I had missed out on a vital piece of her back then, a unique and intricate flavor of her.

She returned with a tall glass of water and a big bed pillow, a paisley quilt, and a folded sheet under her other arm. Handing me the water, she placed the bedding on the sofa.

“You look tired,” she said as I drank. “My spare room is kind of a mess right now with boxes from the store and samples, but the sofa is comfortable.”

I grinned, setting the now empty glass on the low table before me. “That’s fine. Got an early start tomorrow. Don’t want to disturb you in the morning.”

“The bathroom’s down the hall to the right. I left you a couple of towels in there.”

“I could use a shower.”

“Go ahead. I’ll set up your bed.”

I stood and brushed the side of her face with a kiss, my hands on her upper arms. “I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. I needed to be here, make sure you’re okay, that you’re safe with everything going on, with Scrib out there.”

“I know. I appreciate it.” She moved to the other end of the sofa, busying herself with the bedding.

I didn’t want appreciation. I wanted something else, something more, something I could hold and squeeze and grip and…

She smoothed the sage green sheet over the cushions, propped up the king sized royal blue pillow, unfolded the quilt.

The spring of tension that had coiled around the muscles of my chest and shoulders from the moment I’d walked into her house released. This was good, I’d take it. This was a beginning.

“You need anything, you just say the word.” I removed my gun from its holster and set it on the low table by the carafe.

Her eyes darted to my gun. “Okay.”

She was being all cool and collected now, but who knew what state her brain and emotions were in after seeing Tania today, knowing what she’d gone through, seeing the horrible evidence on her skin. Like the scars on her own skin and on mine.

The nightmares might come back tonight. Maybe they’d never left, or maybe she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She didn’t want to talk about it now, and frankly I didn’t either. I was fried after all of the day’s crazy, the back and forth, the riding.

“Hey.” She touched my arm, her fingers warm on my skin. “You know, if you need me, I’m here for you, too.”

My heart jolted.

She squeezed my bicep, sweeping past me down the hall.

And she took my heart straight out of my chest along with her.

55

The door to her bedroomwas open.

I stood there in the silent early morning darkness watching her, her face buried in a pillow, her chest rising and falling with every breath. There had been no nightmares, for her or me last night.

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