“We frequently dissect and critique popular culture,” Sparky informs us.
“What were you watching?” Teller asks his sister.
“The Lion King.”
He slaps Murphy’s arm. “You remember how many times she forced us to watch The Little Mermaid when she was little?”
“I did not,” Heidi protests.
“Oh, yes you did.” Teller grins. “I think that’s why I have a thing for redheads.”
“I’m sure that’ll warm Charlotte’s heart,” Heidi jokes while she finishes picking up the blankets and cushions.
Swan invites everyone down to the dining room for lunch and almost everyone follows.
“I’ll call you if I hear something,” Wrath says to Gray.
“All right.” Gray takes my arm. “You hungry?”
“I’ve been snacking all morning.” I nod toward the coffee table of empty bowls and plates. “I should help Swan clear this, though.”
“I got it,” Trinity says, scooting out of Wrath’s lap. “You’re still recuperating.”
“Thanks, Trin,” Gray says to her. He tugs on my hand. “Come on.”
Upstairs, in our room, he unbuttons his flannel shirt, hanging it neatly in the closet. “What’s wrong, buttercup? You don’t look…happy.”
“I guess I’m still tired.” I flick my wrist toward the door, not sure how to put my feelings into words. “Everything was a little overwhelming.”
“I know what you mean. You want to take a nap? Get some rest?”
“Honestly, I kind of want to run by my apartment and pick up some of my things.”
“We can do that.”
Relieved, I step closer and wrap my arms around him.
In the truck, I stare at the little green buds starting to bloom on some of the trees we pass. “Spring might finally be arriving,” I say.
“Hope we don’t get another storm that kills everything off.” Gray glances over at me. “You have an okay time hanging out with the girls?”
“Yeah, I had fun with them.” My lips curve. “Alexa’s so cute. I think we have the same taste in shoes.”
He chuckles.
“Gray?” My voice strains with anxiety. “We’ve never talked about…I’ve never asked…do you, um, like kids?”
Silence.
“Like them? Yeah, sure.”
Why am I doing this now? Today? Don’t we have enough to worry about?
But like an idiot, I keep plowing ahead.
“Do you want some?” I clear my throat and force myself to ask directly. “Do you see yourself having children someday?”
“Someday? I don’t know, buttercup. I can’t see anything too far ahead right now, you know? Not until I get out of this rough patch.”
That’s a no.
I stare out the window.
A crushing weight of loss descends on me. But I’m not going to try to talk him into anything. That rarely works out well for anyone.
“Do you?” he asks.
“No, not now. Things are too up in the air with my job,” I answer without turning away from the window.
“What are you talking about?”
“The night of the…attack. When I called you, Trish was right next to me. She heard me say your name and saw your name in my phone contacts.” I let out a sad laugh. “She had even asked me earlier in the day how you were doing in treatment. I lied and told her I referred you somewhere else.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” His hands squeeze the steering wheel tight. “What did she say?”
“Nothing. I was dealing with the paramedics and everything. But she made it clear she wants to talk about it when I’m better.”
“What can I do to fix it for you?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do. She can fire me. Suspend me. I don’t know.”
I blow out a breath. “I’ll worry about it in a day or two, Gray. It’s not your problem.”
He pulls the truck into a spot in front of my brownstone and shuts the truck off.
“Hey.”
When I don’t look at him, he reaches for me, gently touching my cheek. “Serena.”
I finally turn.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, okay? You know the last thing I want to do is wreck your job.”
Nodding, I sigh. “It’s not your fault.” A slight smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Well, maybe a little your fault.” I reach over and poke him in the chest.
“Tell me if there’s something I can do to help.”
“I will.”
Gray cautiously scans the street, up and down, before allowing me out of the truck.
The busted front door swings open easily. Gray moves slowly up the stairs, keeping me tucked behind him.
He stops and studies my door. Everything looks fine. Untouched.
Inside, it’s chilly but no signs of any break-ins.
“Good.” Gray says, searching each room. “Looks like your place is clean.”
“Thank goodness.” I hurry into my office and pack my laptop, tripod, camera, and chargers into their special backpack.
I set that on the couch and stop in my bedroom next. “How long do you think I’ll stay at the clubhouse?” I call out to Gray.
“At least until we find this guy.”
“Nothing yet?” I search through my closet. I don’t need anything fancy for lounging around at the clubhouse. Jeans. I pull an old pair of Uggs out of their box and stuff them in a backpack. T-shirts, leggings, a few sweatshirts. Underwear, bras, pajamas.