Page 61 of Hunt Me

He breathes out slowly, then lifts a hand. ‘Okay.’

It means something that he doesn’t argue, and I don’t think it’s defeat. I think he understands now just what he means to me. I want to step back, take him home, wrap him in a weighted blanket, and make him take a nap in my favorite coffin. Being surrounded by weight and walls always allows me to find myself again.

But that might be a bit much for him.

And the truth is, I think I need to ask him about the stalker now. Not when he’s safe. Not when he’s calm enough to brush it off like it’s nothing or hide details. It might be cruel to make him go through it all while everything hurts, but if I’m going to figure this out and help him, I need to know what I’m up against.

Drawing him to the living room, I flip the torn cushions over, then ease him down to sit. He’s still stiff with tension, but he continues to obey me, and I make a note to reward him for it as soon as he’s able to accept that sort of thing from me.

‘I need to ask you something.’

He nods easily, his face so open.

‘Do you know the stalker?’

He licks his lips, then rolls his gaze up to the ceiling for a moment before shrugging. ‘I don’t know.’ He’s not being entirely truthful, but I can tell he’s not lying either.

‘Not your first?’

He shakes his head. ‘Years ago, I had a cyberstalker who turned up in town. I contacted the FBI. It’s how I met Thorne.’

I frown and spell the name again. The name sounds familiar to me, but I can’t place it.

‘He lives nearby—on the farm with a man named Leaf.’

Ah, yes. I know it. He has a budding cherry orchard and the groundhog we were all warned about. I don’t know much about him, and I don’t know how much Percy knows. And I’m not sure how I feel about a former FBI agent being so close to us. Or how I feel about the fact that Denver is friends with one.

But I can’t let that matter right now. ‘Tell me about Thorne.’

‘He helped me with my case. My stalker was caught and charged. Didn’t really serve time. I have a permanent order of protection.’

I almost laugh because what fucking good is that? A piece of paper has never stopped a murder before.

Bowing my head, I nod. ‘Okay. I’ll figure out the rest.’

Denver taps me on the wrist, and I look up. ‘How?’

‘We have connections.’ I have to spell that last word. I’m not sure how to convey the meaning in ASL with my slightly limited vocabulary. ‘Percy will take care of it. We will find the name, make sure it’s not same person.’

‘If it is?’ he presses.

I shrug. ‘We stop him.’

‘If it’s not?’

I shrug again. ‘Then we find out who he is and stop him.’

Different processes, same solution. I study Denver’s face for a moment for some kind of fear or worry, but he only looks stressed. After what feels like forever, he lets out a puff of airthat releases with a slight hum he probably doesn’t know he’s making.

‘Thank you.’

Not what I expected him to say. I have only one answer for him, so I tug him by the shirt and lay a soft kiss on his lips. I don’t want to say that he’s welcome, because it’s more than that. I want him to learn that with me, he can expect all of this. Everything. With me, he will always be safe.

After getting out of the car, Denver comes to a complete halt a few feet away from the front door. When I beckon him forward, he stares at me, blinking, but he doesn’t respond. My heart twists in my chest as I lift my hand.

‘Wrong-wrong?’

He looks a little unsure and upset. Not that his reaction is unexpected. His world has been flipped upside down, and he hasn’t had time to cope or process what happened to both him and his apartment.