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CHAPTER NINE
NICK
My fingers slide through my hair. I peer to my right and notice the bed is still neatly made. The t-shirt is missing.
I glance at my watch. “Four eighteen in the morning,” I mutter.
Damn it, I can't believe I slept for so long. It's not something I do often anymore. Ever since those nights when she used to be in my arms. Those were the only times I could really have her to myself.
I push the sheet off me and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, slipping my feet into my slippers with rubber soles. Being barefoot in my line of work is too risky; I need to be prepared for anything, like someone breaking in and trying to kill me. Kinsley never wanted this kind of life, and now I've left her with no choice.
I slip on my shoulder holster and shove an earbud in my ear, syncing it to my phone. “Kinsley,” I call out as I peek in the walk-in closet, then the bathroom. Where is she? Is she all right?
My chest rises and falls, and I take a breath.Calm down, Nick.
Pounding the stairs, I decide to turn Kinsley’s lab into a panic room. I have to keep her safe. She should be fine for now. Our marriage won’t be revealed until next Saturday at our reception. I halt at the basement door next to the kitchen. “Please be down here,” I mutter under my breath.
It feels surreal that I'm going to marry the love of my life tomorrow. A grin appears on my face as I reach the bottom of the steps. Looking around the lab, I can't find her anywhere. Did she sleep in one of the guest bedrooms? If so, my beautiful fiancée is in trouble; I made sure to tell her to sleep in our bed.
A soft sigh catches my attention from a distance, and I stop in my tracks at the back of the lab. There she is, curled up in a ball on the floor.
I’m not happy she’s sleeping on the floor, but where else did I expect her to sleep? I didn’t provide a bed. Maybe the exam table. Did she feel like this was the safest place to sleep?
Sadness grips my heart. Is she afraid in my home? Yes. She doesn’t want a violent life. Maybe she sees this lab as her sanctuary.
Her small frame is swallowed by my oversized t-shirt, with her feet peeking out from the bottom.
I notice her hand curled around her phone and an iPad propped up in front of her. I gently grab the iPad from the floor and realize she was watching 'The Sopranos.' A small laugh escapes me as I set it down on a nearby surface. As I pick up her phone, I scoop Kinsley up into my arms. She can't run around barefooted in just my shirt. Holding her close to my chest, I press a kiss on her forehead.
“Nick,” she murmurs.
My heart swells in my chest from my name, dropping from her lips.
Is she dreaming about me?
