The wicked and the kind.
I just hoped they both existed when it came to me.
I moved into the bathroom and slid out of the dress and let it drop to a heap on the floor.
Tingles spread.
Comfort taking hold.
I washed my face, then found an extra toothbrush in the cupboard so I could brush my teeth.
By the time I pulled the shirt over my head and looked at my mussed reflection in the mirror, I felt like a new woman.
A free woman.
And to my reflection, I made a brand-new promise.
I will never go back.
* * *
Half an hour later, I eased out the bedroom door and down the hall. My footsteps were quieted, filled with the instinct to remain concealed when I was the only one there. Silence hovered thick, like when Logan had gone, he’d left the weight of his presence there, ominous and tranquil.
As if you could be lured into the comfort of it all when you were stumbling into a trap.
I padded barefoot through the living room. The smooth floor was surprisingly warm as the fireplace continued to cast its luxury across the rambling space.
I walked into the posh kitchen and searched for a glass in the cupboards above the countertop. I found one and moved to the sink where I filled it with tap water and brought it to my lips.
The main door suddenly burst open behind me. Surprise had me whirling around and the glass slipped from my hold as I went.
It shattered on the floor.
Shards scattered while my arms drew up in front of me like I could protect myself from any attack.
Which just so happened to be an attack by a woman who had to be in her late sixties. She skidded to a stop just inside the apartment looking just as shocked as I felt.
Humiliation crept to my cheeks at my overreaction.
But it was basic instinct. The fear that Jarek would come for me.
I frantically tried to regain my composure. “I’m so sorry, you scared me.”
The woman’s smile was sly. She was stocky and short, though clearly her strength hadn’t lessened with age as she carried the bags inside.
“Don’t you worry your pretty face about it. My husband used to tell me I garnered quite the reaction when I came into a room. I was a looker, too, you know, when I was your age. The man always did have to be right.”
Her smile widened. “You stay right there, now, and I’ll come rescue you. I heard we were going to have a pop of company for the next little bit, so I figured I’d better get to the market and get the refrigerator stocked.”
“That’s very nice of you,” I mumbled.
She waddled the rest of the way in and piled the bags on the island. “Gretchen is my name, cooking is my game. Well, and cleaning and shopping and keeping that boy out of the messes he makes. He might look put together, but that’s all me.”
She tsked like Logan was nothing but an unruly little boy.
“Is that so?”
“Mmhmm…he’s lucky he has me, that one.” She eyed me up and down.