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I stop fighting what he offers, that safe place I need. I sink into his embrace and wrap my arms around him and it does feel like he has me, like he’s holding me up. I’ve never given anyone this kind of power, the power to hold me up or crush me. But I’ve given it to Reid because I know, in this moment, that I love this man.
Chapter sixty-three
Reid
If my father did this to Carrie, I will kill him.
An hour after we found out about Carrie’s apartment fire, the police are talking to Carrie. Cat and Gabe are standing with me a few feet away, but my eyes are on Carrie, watching her shove a shaky hand through her hair and the very idea that my father might have done this has me fighting fury. And damn it, the way Carrie reacted to the idea of moving in with me with such instant resistance is killing me and has me wondering if she blames me, if she thinks I did this to her, took everything from her; her company, her home.
“Reid?”
At the sound of Cat’s voice, I force my gaze in her direction. “What can I do? Can I get Carrie anything to get her by?” she asks.
I pull out my wallet, handing her my black AmEx. “Buy her everything and anything she could need. Spend thirty-thousand if you need to. I have plenty of money. I don’t care. She has to have nice work clothes. She needs to feel like she has things of her own.”
“She’ll want to pick out her own things,” Cat says. “And I can’t get much tonight.” She glances at her watch. “Very little, actually.”
“Get what you can. She can exchange what she needs to, but she won’t want to spend my money. I want to do this before she makes me promise not to do it. And I want the insurance money to be a nest egg. And buy yourself something for doing this.”
“I don’t need payment,” Cat says. “Money doesn’t make me feel loved, Reid.”
My eyes narrow on her and I know she’s not just talking about herself. “I know, Cat, but I need her to feel safe and that means having what she needs at my place, which is now her place.”
Her expression softens and she nods. “Safe is good right now,” Cat says. “And you do have a point. I’ll do what I can. There’s a boutique that is owned by a fan of mine. She’ll open for me. I’ll see you soon.” She takes off and I focus on Gabe, my voice now low, gritty. “Do you think—”
“I don’t think dad did this. This drives Carrie closer to you and he doesn’t want that. That agreement he drew up made that clear, but I’ll go pay him a visit. I’ll know when I look into his eyes.”
Carrie steps to my side. “There are people missing. I could have been one of them.”
Just that idea guts me and I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. “But you weren’t. Do they know what caused it?”
“The restaurant on the main floor. A short in some machine they were told to replace.”
Gabe whistles. “Sounds like a criminal act to me. Someone is in trouble,” he says, his eyes meeting mine, and I give a barely perceivable shake of my head to tell him that no, I’m not convinced that machine caused the fire.
“It’s right over my apartment,” Carrie adds and looks up at me. “They said the outlook for saving anything in my place is grim. I guess I won’t have any personal items to bring to your place.”
“You’re alive, baby. We have to focus on that.”
“I’m going to take care of a problem,” Gabe says. “Carrie. Put my number in your phone. If you need me, you know how to reach me.”
She reaches for her purse, but she’s trembling too hard for her to open it. I catch her hand. “I’ll do it later.” I look at Gabe. “I got this.”
“I’ll call you both,” he says and then takes off.
“They want me to stay close,” Carrie says, stepping in front of me, shivering and hugging herself as she does. “And we can’t get into your apartment, but it’s cold and I’m so very tired.”
I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me. “I’ll keep you warm,” I say. “And safe. You have a home now with me.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She nestles in closer to me, but I sense the tension in her reply that I want to drive away. “I want to be there now or just stay just like this wrapped in your arms,” she adds, “but I can’t even do that. I need to call my insurance company. And my father.” Her voice lifts with urgency. “Should I call my father? Why is that my instinct when he’s acting like he is?”
“Deep breath, baby. It’s your instinct because he’s your father, the person who took care of you when you couldn’t, and no matter what, we assume our parents will worry about us. And he does worry about you.”
“Maybe he does. I don’t know anymore, but I can’t deal with him now, though. I just can’t, but I don’t want him showing up here when we have so much going on.”
