line was, it was over. No more hiding in the corners. No more terror at the sound of a ringing phone. But…
No more Boone.
She hadn’t known him long enough to feel this crappy about losing him.
He was going to leave, and she was going to have…what? Yeah, her life back. Hopefully her money back. No job, but that was okay, because she could get another job. A better job. And she’d have her friends again. So, yes, it would all be good. Great. Empty.
Maybe it was for the best. Clearly her choice in men sucked. When she thought about Dan…Jesus. As she washed her hair, she considered her relationship with him. He hadn’t seemed weird. In fact, he’d seemed really normal, except for all the questions. That should have tipped her off, right? Him wanting to know everything about her family, about her work? But he was a psychologist, for God’s sake. It made no sense.
She didn’t want to think about it anymore. What she needed most was to sleep for a month, to gain back her strength and her perspective.
WHEN SHE GOT TO THE KITCHEN, Boone was at the table staring at the wall, holding a big tumbler of breakfast smoothie and idly playing with Milo. Aside from his ugly bruises, which ironically, made him look even more ruggedly handsome, he seemed deflated. As if now that the thrill of the hunt was over, he had no rudder, no purpose. She understood that, a little more acutely than she wished.
It was anticlimactic in a way. All this focus on catching a demon, and he’d turned out to be an asshole in a demon suit. Despite the truth, she still had a hard time associating the Dan she’d dated with the stalker. The cruelty was so much larger than the man. He’d delighted in her torment. A man who’d purportedly helped people get over pain and suffering.
She’d have preferred sending him away to prison, if not a psychiatric hospital, but he’d taken away their choice. It would take time for her to recover from the entire ordeal, and, she realized, it would take Big, Bad Delta-Force Guy a while, too.
Although she’d have sworn she didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, seeing him so sad and so banged-up made her want to cook him chicken soup and put him to bed. She had no chicken, so that was out. But the bed part? That had possibilities. One more for the road. A last goodbye.
Oh, that made her chest hurt. Despite his tendency to be a pain in the ass, having Boone around had been illuminating. And not just the sex. He thought she was strong. Capable. A fighter. No one had ever told her that before. She’d been her only cheering section when it came to facing the hard stuff. But these last few days, Boone had been her champion. She flushed at the thought, but it was true.
“You gonna stand there and stare at me, or come drink your breakfast?”
“You can’t truly be snarky when you’re talking about a health drink, you know.”
“I can be snarky about anything.”
To Milo’s delight, she joined them at the table, petting him lavishly for surviving yet another tranquilizing episode. Boone seemed pleased, too, although his smile was crooked from the swelling.
She drank some of her drink, surprised yet again that it didn’t taste like swill. When she put it down, she pushed back her still-damp hair. “So, we go to see the hacker guy now?”
Boone shook his head. “He’s not home. Seth is gonna stop by later today.”
“Which leaves us with what?”
“We should replace that bedroom window. And do another sweep of the house for bugs.”
“Ah, another typical, what is it, Tuesday?”
His head quirked to the side. “I don’t know.”
“Weird, huh? It feels like we’ve been in an alternate universe.”
“Actually, it hasn’t been all that different from the rest of my life. Better company, but that’s about it.”
“Oh, God. I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. I’m just grateful that you don’t have to go through it anymore. What are you going to do about work?”
“It depends on the cash situation. I still have to pay the mortgage, you know?”
“If anyone can get the IRS off your back, it’s Larry. I still want to know how the doctor had the connections in the first place.”
“You think he wasn’t really a psychologist, don’t you?”
“I don’t think that’s all he was.”
She drank some more, and so did he. Across the street, a gardener mowed the lawn. For the first time in ages, Christie opened the blinds all the way. She saw her own sadly neglected front yard, her mailbox—which she hadn’t checked in too long—the sky, clouds. It all seemed so normal, so prosaic. And Boone couldn’t have any of it. “Why do you stay?” she asked, turning to him. “Why not leave the country? Get a new name, a new start?”
“They stole my life from me. I can’t let that go.”
“They have money and power and resources you can’t possibly match. I admire your principles, but how are you going to get them?”
“We just have to get the right kind of proof, and get it to the right people.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple. It’s just not easy.”
She nodded. “I don’t have any way of saying thank you.”
“Sure you do,” he said, smiling that crooked smile.
“You just did.”
“Cute. But not close. You saved my life.”
“Actually, you saved mine. That flashlight move was downright brilliant.”
She sat back, awash with pride. “Wow, it was, wasn’t it?”
“Yep. You were magnificent.”
Her cheeks heated, but not entirely because of his compliment. “I didn’t take the safety off.”
He shrugged. “It all worked out in the end.”
“I suppose so. I’m almost afraid to ask, but what did Seth do with him?”
“Better you don’t know.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Don’t think about that,” he said. “We did what we had to do. You’re safe now, and that’s what’s important.”
She got up, not sure what to do with herself. Her gaze fell on the missing carpet, but that upset her more. “Can we do something?” she asked. “Get that window maybe?”
“Sure.” Boone got up and took both their glasses to the sink. He rinsed them out and put them in the drainer.
She looked him over, all the way up and down his long body. She liked him in those jeans. They were old and worn in a great way. No holes, just paler denim that covered that gorgeous butt to perfection. His shirt, also denim, did nice things to his back, to his wide expanse of shoulder. Altogether a wonderful package, but frankly, she liked him better without the wrapping.
“You want to grab your purse?”
“No,” she said, walking over to him, wishing his mouth weren’t so bruised. She touched his cheek as she studied his face. She’d remember him without the scars. Such a great face. Fabulous green eyes. Everything about him pleased her. Well, maybe not the way he shopped.
“What are you smiling about?”
She shrugged. “Happy thoughts.”
“Good. You deserve happiness.”
“So do you.”
“I’m happy right now,” he said,