Because every time I close my eyes, all I see are the photographs from various crime scenes. But instead of the victim lying there, it’s me. It’s my eyes that are wide open, staring aimlessly and my body that’s broken and lifeless.
Without thinking about it, I reach for my phone and text Cody as quickly as I can: Please drive fast. When it’s sent, I can’t take it back.
After wiping my eyes with a tissue and a handful of water splashed on my face, I give myself a cursory pass and pretend like none of that happened.
I take my time, reorganizing the bag and thinking about everything other than what happened tonight, grabbing some sleeping pills for safe measure before leaving my bedroom. I’m damn sure going to need them tonight.
Letting time pass, I go over everything I need and then do it again, making sure I didn’t miss anything before zipping up the bag with a sound of finality echoing in the room. I saved a pair of gray sweats and a comfortable olive hoodie to wear tonight. I certainly don’t look like a damsel in distress; I’ve never been a fan of that.
Taking deep breaths in and deep breaths out, I put on light makeup before making my way out of my bedroom, ready to relocate as per Cody’s not so gentle request. The security detail will just have to follow me to Cody’s place. I don’t know what they’ll think about it or if it goes against protocol, but I don’t have the energy to fight and they can’t make me stay here, so… it’s up to them if they come or not. The last thing I’m going to do right now is fight with the only person I can confide in.
I don’t want to be alone either, though.
With the straps digging into my shoulder, I carry the heavy bag past the kitchen and the bright bloom of gorgeous red petals catch my eye.
Roses. Dozens of roses.
The heavy duffle bag slips from its place and plops onto the wood floors. I’m still in bare feet and my soles pad on the floor as I make my way over. My first reaction is to touch the petals. They’re velvety soft and the flowers are fragrant. There are at least two dozen roses in a simple vase.
Knock, knock, knock, there’s a knock at my front door. The loud bangs startle me, forcing my fingers to pull back, not unlike Belle when the Beast came up from behind her, but I make haste getting to the front door, and see Taylor in the peephole. I could laugh at the reference to a fairytale; oh, what a poor excuse for a princess I would make.
I don’t have to wonder why Taylor’s here from the look in his eyes. Before I’ve finished opening the door, he’s already started talking.
“I got a call from Agent Walsh about a relocation?” he questions. The quizzical look is paired with a knowing one. Swallowing a bit of embarrassment, I nod and then look him in the eye before I say, “He insisted.”
There’s a pause, and for a moment I imagine Taylor is going to question further, but he doesn’t. “All right then. We’re ready when you are.”
“I just need five minutes,” I tell him. Before he can fully turn his back to me to walk back down my front yard path the way he came, I ask, “Who brought the roses?”
“What?” he says and a cold chill flows over my neck and down further. Fear threatens to derail my composure. How could he not know about the roses? “What roses?” he asks when I don’t say anything.
Opening the door wider, I ask him to come inside with me. “Is everything all right?” Taylor questions as he reaches for his gun.
I don’t know. An awful sickness washes through me. It’s not possible that someone came in here while the men were watching the place. It’s not possible. My imagination goes a step further, questioning if the roses were here all along. They must have been. I was so out of it that I had to have missed them. Right?
Sensing how off I am, Taylor uses his transmitter to update the men that he’s going inside and to do a sweep of the interior. I’m numb as I watch Taylor search through my apartment and then he checks each lock. Only the sounds of Taylor moving quietly and quickly from room to room accompany this horrible feeling that grips me like a vise. I only break away when he says there’s no one else here. Searching the flowers for the card from earlier, I find nothing. Where did it go?
Holstering his gun, Taylor questions lowly, calmly but with authority, “Were they here when we got here earlier?”
“They couldn’t have been,” I answer in a whisper, but my head shakes subconsciously. Maybe it’s disagreeing with me. “I don’t know.”