Reclaimed (Powell Sanctuary #5)

Chapter 6

6

Isla

“You really didn’t have to follow me home.” I wrap my fingers around Aiden’s open window. The wind tosses a strand of hair across my cheek, and I watch his eyes track the movement.

“No use in arguing now since we’re here.” He flashes me a soft grin, the humor falling just short of his eyes.

As the quiet night stretches around us, a shiver prickles my spine. “I’m glad you had the time to waste. Truly, Aiden. Now get out of here before my neighbor Julie notices you and starts asking questions.”

“I think I can handle a nosy neighbor.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”

That puts another smile on his face. “Are you afraid of little old ladies?”

“I’m afraid of little old ladies who size up men like she wishes they would spank her with her wooden baking spoon. Seriously, you should hear the way she talks about our mailman.”

His face twists in horror. “I’ve heard enough.”

“She’d like to see what his package can deliver.”

Aiden fakes a gag. “I get the picture.”

Our bubble of humor vanishes as I straighten and take in the dark night. This part of the street isn’t well lit. “I suppose you’re going to watch me walk inside.”

“Won’t leave until you’re securely behind the locked door.”

“Thank you.” I muster sincerity despite the tickle of worry. The confidence is a front I don’t entirely feel. “I know it’s silly.”

“Your safety is never worth taking lightly.”

And I’m not the only one I’m protecting. But he doesn’t know that.

I fight the impulse to rub my palm over my belly and pick up my duffel near my feet instead.

“Goodnight, Powell.”

“Goodnight, Isla.”

The first step away from him sends adrenaline dumping into my system. The muscles in my legs protest the leisurely pace. Signals race to my brain urging me to run to my front door, but I force myself to stay calm.

A concrete sidewalk leads to a wooden staircase at the front of the four-plex. Nosy Julia and myself are on the front facing the street while the other two face the alley in the back. I hop up the three stairs and fit my brass key into the deadbolt, all while feeling Aiden’s eyes on my back.

The crank of pins unlocking feels heavy and the interior door swings free with an ominous creak.

Hyperawareness replaces all other thoughts as I stare into the pitch-black darkness. I throw out my hand blindly and swipe up, hitting all the switches at once. The audible clicks shatter the quiet. The front of my house is illuminated in a golden glow, chasing the shadows back into the recesses.

With one lingering look at Aiden’s car, I kick the door shut and lock it.

I sag against the solid wood at my back.

From my spot in the entryway, I don’t need to move to look into the living room. My red couch with the gray throw blanket beckons me inside. On any given night when I come home from the club, I curl up in the deep cushions and binge watch reality tv until I can shut my brain off. But tonight, I’m having trouble uprooting from this spot.

It isn’t just me I need to look out for. The logical part of my brain says that I’m not actually in any danger, but the irrational side is running through every scene of every horror movie I’ve ever consumed in my thirty years.

I have to be smart. If there’s truly a serial killer targeting strippers, then my unborn baby deserves a mother who’s willing to put aside comfort for every possible precaution.

My spine tingles as I step away from the door and peer out of the curtain covering the window beside the door. Aiden remains parked across the street, his headlights illuminating the long stretch of darkened road.

Just go inside and go to bed, I tell myself unhelpfully.

I move a few steps out of the entryway and pause with my toes brushing the beige, high-pile carpet.

A creaking sound from inside the house halts my slow advance.

I stare at the wall on the far side of the living room as if I’ll suddenly develop x-ray vision and be able to see beyond the nails and wood and plaster.

God, this is stupid.

My fingers flutter toward the curtain at my left, and again, I brush it aside to peek outside.

Aiden hasn’t left. Why isn’t he leaving? Surely if he saw something, he’d be knocking at my door. Or he’d text me or…

He doesn’t have my number.

Which means I don’t have his.

I don’t need his number. I’m a strong and capable woman, and if I want to make a real run at this single mom business and not fuck up my kid, I need to dig deep and find some independence too. I’ve never had issues living alone; in fact, I’ve been alone since I left high school over a decade ago. I’ve made it this long without relying on anyone but myself—

A thud sounds from down the hall.

The doorknob is tight in my fist before I even consciously decide to grab it, and I’m running barefoot out into the night.

I nearly trip down the three rickety steps as I find Aiden standing outside of his car with his arms crossed over his chest. I don’t give myself proper time to ogle the way his biceps bunch nicely beneath the sleeve of his short-sleeved tee, or the way his ballcap sits backward on his head before I start moving again and hustle down the sidewalk.

“Missed me already?” he says with a cocky lilt, but the crease between his brows gives away his concern.

“Will you stay? Just for tonight. I think I’m a little spooked and I just don’t want to be alone,” I say in a breathless rush. “Please,” I tack on the end.

Pushing off the car, he rises to his full six-foot height, and drops his arms to his sides. “You never have to say please.” His headlights flash as he hits the lock on the fob. “Let’s go.”

“You’ll stay?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

“Honestly, I thought I was going to have to beg.”

“I’d never make you beg.” His hand hovers protectively over the small of my back as we climb the steps. The heat of him settles some of my restlessness. “Not tonight anyway,” he murmurs.

When I enter my house for the second time, I shiver for an entirely different reason.

Aiden grabs my hand and tows me gently to my couch. He palms my stomach, and with a gentle push, eases me back.

I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth at the unexpected contact. His hand is warm where it rests against my baby bump.

Can he feel it? Surely not, but I don’t have an easily recallable memory where a man has ever touched my stomach so openly, pregnant or not.

Aiden doesn’t even know about the baby, so his placement is an interesting choice all things considered. The fact he doesn’t shy away from my size, and my most noticeable area, is a welcome surprise.

“You wait here,” he says slowly, drawing the fuzzy throw blanket from the backrest and laying it over my lap. “I’ll give the house a walk-through.”

“Thank you.”

He rakes his gaze over me, looking as though he wants to say more.

“I’ll be right back.”

The sound of his footsteps gradually dampens until I can’t hear them at all. Embarrassment creeps in, edging out the irrational fear.

Aiden returns a few minutes later and guides a tall glass of cool water into my hand.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He settles his long frame into the seat beside me.

“I just got scared.” I stare down at the water between my hands. “I let that fear control me, and now I’m super fucking embarrassed.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re safe, the house is clear, and I’m happy I could check that out for you so you could sleep soundly tonight. But I still want you to talk to me.”

“What about?”

“Tell me what the sheriff said.”

I roll the glass between my palms. “He told Manny, my boss, that there’s been five strippers murdered in the last two months across the state. They were all between the ages of twenty-five to thirty-five, and they all were single females who lived alone.”

“Were any of them killed close to here?”

I deposit my glass on the coffee table and curl under the blanket. “The closest was about a hundred miles away.”

“So not in the immediate area.”

A swift bubble of irritation wells inside my chest. “Sorry for acting so irrational.”

“Hey, stop.” His hand finds mine over the blanket and he gives it a gentle squeeze. “You aren’t being irrational. The news is scary and surprising. It’s easy to let that fear overtake you. I’m not judging you.”

“Yeah right,” I mutter and look away.

“A few months ago I was shot in the woods behind the Sanctuary. Despite the guy going to prison, I haven’t been able to walk the property since.”

Surprise softens my tone. “Is that really true?”

“It is.”

My heart sinks at his guilty expression. “I’m sure you’ll make it back there when you’re ready.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any less irrationally worried about it.” He lifts a knowing eyebrow. “Your reaction is normal. Healthy even. We all need a good dose of our own mortality every now and again. How else are we supposed to determine what in life is worth taking the risk?”

“I think you’re comparing apples to oranges. You were very much in danger in your situation and could have died. I’m not even on this guy’s radar.”

“I didn’t have to step in front of that bullet, but in that moment, it was worth the risk.”

I remove my free hand from beneath the blanket and squeeze his fingers still tucked around mine. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Me too.” Aiden shakes off the heaviness first. “Feeling better?”

“I think so,” I answer honestly, followed by a loud yawn. The cloud of anxiety has dissipated some.

“Good. Get off to bed, beautiful. I’ll take the couch.”

“Are you sure? I’m feeling better now. I think I can manage—”

“If it gives you one night of peaceful sleep to know you aren’t here alone, it’s no problem for me to stay. I’m happy to.”

“I owe you one, Powell.” I rise to my feet and dump the blanket in his lap. “In the morning, I’ll make you blueberry pancakes from scratch.”

“Something you should know about me,” he catches my wrist before I can scamper off, “I’ll never say no to food, Isla. Especially if it’s a home-cooked meal.”