“You’re welcome. I don’t have any plans. Do you want me to stay?”
Too much. I lift my eyes to meet his and shake my head. I lead the way to the front door and open it for him. “I’ll set the alarm after you go. I promise.”
“Good. It was . . . nice to see you tonight, Ellie,” he says.
“You too.” I wish it were simply a polite lie. Having him close again is like coming in from the cold and standing in front of the fireplace. And I don’t know what to do with that.
He heads through the door.
“Levi?”
He stops on the stoop, turning back to me.
“Was Colton happy about the baby?”
He looks away and drags a hand through his hair. “He never talked to me about it, but same as you, I guess.” His voice is thick. “Little scared. Not ready. Wanted to do the right thing.”
“Do you miss him?”
His jaw tightens. “Yeah. It’s more complicated than that, but I do.”
More complicated because of me.
They were best friends, and I came between them. Hell, I remember enough that I can see now that I started coming between them years ago. Colton would be trashed and Levi would come to the rescue. Colton would get pissed and accuse Levi of trying to play the hero, and Levi would lie low for a while. When Colton was in rehab, Levi was my confidant, my shoulder to cry on as I prayed the man I loved would become stronger than his addiction. Colton needed me to be strong, so when I felt weak, I leaned on Levi. And somewhere in there, while I was still fighting for Colton and while I still believed with all my heart that he and I would be together forever, I fell in love with Levi—not as a lover but as a friend, a piece of my world as necessary as the ground beneath my feet.
“What about you? Do you miss him?” Levi asks, a hitch in his words.
“I do. Now that I remember him, I miss him a lot.” I want it to be an explanation for all I can’t say—for why I can’t let Levi hold me even though I want him to. For why I feel so damn guilty for wanting him to.
“He loved you. You might not remember enough to understand, but you were the best thing that ever happened to him.”
Are we still talking about Colton? Why do I feel like Levi is trying to tell me how he feels?
“Good night.” I close the door and watch him through the window as he climbs into his truck. I haven’t been alone anywhere since I woke up in the hospital, and as Levi drives away, the night stretches out before me. Just anticipating the darkness terrifies me.
When I turn to set the alarm, I remember I never brought my bag in from the car. I step outside and jog to the driveway. The sun is low on the horizon, painting the sky in an orange-and-red glow.
I open my trunk and grab my overnight bag. I throw it over my shoulder, then freeze. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Someone’s watching me.
I shouldn’t have come out here alone. Not when I’m feeling so paranoid.
I shift the keys in my hand, turning the car key to point out. Colton taught me that after Nelson broke into my house. A key to the eye will give you time to escape. I pull my trunk closed as nonchalantly as possible, forcing myself not to show my panic as I walk back into the house.
Only when the door is shut behind me and I hear the satisfying thunk of the bolt sliding home do I look across the street to find the danger I sensed so acutely.
I don’t see any.
In the driveway across the street, a few kids play basketball. Two houses down, a couple sits on the front porch, beers in hand, enjoying the perfect evening. A patrol car rolls by, and frogs begin to sing. A normal autumn evening.
“You’re being paranoid,” I whisper. Then I arm the security system.
I grab a flashlight from the drawer in the kitchen and head to the hallway. I stare at the attic access for two solid minutes before I make myself muster the courage to pull down the ladder.
&
nbsp; I click on the flashlight. “Just do it, Ellie.”
The wooden ladder creaks with each step, and as I get closer to the hot and muggy space, chills race down my spine. I crawl across the rafters on my hands and knees until I get to the back corner.