Coming to stand before me, he rests his hands on my hips then lifts me to the island, settling himself between my thighs. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes… I don’t know.” I look around, wondering why I feel so out of place all of a sudden. Nothing has changed since I was sitting here an hour ago with Cara and the boys, but looking around, it feels different.
“What’s going on?” he asks, gently touching my chin, and my eyes go back to his.
“The house just feels too big again,” I admit, and he nods, chewing the inside of his cheek and studying me for a moment. “Ignore me. I’m being crazy.”
“Find Leo and pack a few things.”
“Are you sure?” I question, and his hands rest against my thighs as his face drops closer to mine.
“I want you to feel safe, so if staying at your old place makes you feel that way, then yes, I’m sure.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, and he nods, holding his lips to my forehead.
“Go find Leo. I’ll get our bags and take them up to the room.” He tilts my head back with his fingers under my chin, touches his lips to mine softly, and then helps me down off the island. Heading upstairs, I go to the linen closet Leo has been hiding out in and search it from top to bottom, coming up empty-handed, then move to his other favorite places to hide. I don’t find him anywhere, but then again, the boys have made a game out of finding him the last few days, so he may have found a new place to hole-up away from them.
“Are you looking for this?” Pulling my head out from underneath the bed, I smile as Dillon holds Leo out to me.
“Where was he? I’ve been searching everywhere for him.”
“In the kitchen, on top of the fridge.” He grins as Leo hisses and attempts to jump out of his arms.
“It must be warm up there.” I laugh, tucking him against my chest so he can’t take a swipe at me as he hisses. “You’re getting grumpier by the day, sir,” I tell him, and he hisses in response.
“That cat’s the devil,” he mutters, watching Leo try to escape my hold.
“He just doesn’t love everyone.”
“Baby, he doesn’t like anyone, not even you.”
“He loves me.” I laugh as he gets his leg free and paws my chin.
“Sure he does.” He shakes his head, resting his hand against my lower back. “His kennel’s in our room. Come on before you lose an eye.”
“So dramatic,” I mutter, letting him lead me toward the bedroom where I spend twenty minutes getting a hissing and spitting Leo into his kennel, and then another thirty minutes packing enough clothes to last a week. As soon as we’re done and our bags are zipped, I take one last look around and make sure we didn’t miss anything we may need.
“Get Leo, baby. I’ll get our bags,” Dillon says as I start to pull my suitcase across the wood floors. Knowing it’s pointless to tell him I can get my own bag, I pick up Leo’s kennel and carry it downstairs to the garage behind him.
“Should I follow you in my car?” I ask as he puts our stuff in the trunk of the Mercedes and slams it closed.
“No,” he practically barks, and I feel my spine tingle and goose bumps break out across my skin from the intensity of that one word. “Sorry,” he softens his voice and steps toward me, reaching out, touching my cheek gently with the tips of his fingers. “I don’t want you out of my sight.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him, breathing through the overwhelming fear in the pit of my stomach. I know the worry I’m carrying around like a weight won’t go away until the person responsible for the murders is caught, but I hate feeling like I do. I hate feeling on edge and jumpy. I hate not knowing if I’m in danger, and I hate that Dillon is so stressed out about it, too.
“I’ll watch your alien show if you get that look off your face.” His words bring me out of my head, and I feel a smile touch my mouth as I hold out my hand toward him.
“You’ve got a deal.”
“The things I do for you,” he grumbles, making me laugh as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Come on.” He opens my door, helping me into the car. Once he’s sure I’m buckled in, he slams the door and heads around to the driver’s side, getting in behind the wheel he presses the button for the garage door and starts up the engine. The drive to my old place takes less than fifteen minutes, and as soon as Dillon pulls into my driveway and shuts the car down, I suddenly feel like Goldilocks when she was trying to find a comfortable bed to sleep in. My house looks exactly as it did everyday I lived in it for the last two years, only now it doesn’t look like home anymore.
“Are you okay?” he questions, and I turn my head to look at him, pulling in a breath as I do.
“Yep,” I lie, and he searches my face, squeezing the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.
“I don’t think you’ll feel safe anywhere until this is done.” He’s right, I wont feel safe anywhere until this is done or until I know the police have a suspect. Not knowing who I need to be cautious of is what is making me crazy.
“I’m sorry.” I rest my hand over his on the steering wheel and pry his fingers loose, twining them with mine. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to apologize for anything, baby. If I have to drive back and forth between houses all night, that’s what I’ll do. Hell, we can go stay at your parents’ if that’s what you want, or even leave town.”