Page 110 of Until Joy

The woman sleeping ten feet away was my entire world. The thought of losing her, of failing to protect her after last night's clusterfuck, made my chest feel like it was caving in.

Last night had been a warning shot. A demonstration of power. This bastard was telling us he could reach us anywhere, anytime, using any method he chose.

Twenty minutes crawled by before my phone buzzed.

WES: Five minutes out.

I texted Randy. He responded. I explained he needed to get over here and watch Joy while I went out. He promised to get here in less than three minutes.

I stood, every joint protesting the uncomfortable night, and moved to the bed. Joy had rolled onto her stomach, her face buried in the pillow I'd vacated. Even in sleep, tension lined her shoulders. The events of the past few days were taking their toll.

I brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

“Joy.”

She stirred but didn't wake. I tried again, my voice a little louder.

“Baby, I need to talk to you.”

Her eyes fluttered open, immediately alert in that hypervigilant way she'd developed since the flowers arrived. The way I recognized from my own sleepless nights after Africa.

“Graham? What's wrong? Are they back?”

The fear in her voice cut through me like a blade.

“No, sweetheart. Nothing's wrong. I need to go pick up my truck. Wes is giving me a ride over to the shop.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows, blue eyes scanning my face for deception.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Couple hours, max. I'm getting Randy to come down and stay with you.”

“I'll be fine by myself.”

“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended, colored by the memory of tactical teams and splintering wood. “You're not going to be alone. Not for five minutes. Not after last night.”

She studied my face in the dim light, reading the tension I couldn't quite hide.

“You're thinking about the SWATing.”

Not a question. An observation. Joy had gotten good at reading the shadows that crossed my face when memories hit.

“Hard not to think about it.”

“That's not what I meant.” She scooted closer, her hand finding mine. “You're blaming yourself for not seeing it coming.”

How could I explain the failure that gnawed at my gut? The certainty that I should have anticipated this move, should have prepared for the possibility that our stalker would use law enforcement as a weapon?

“I should have thought of it. Should have warned you it was a possibility.”

“Graham, how could you have known? Nobody expects something like that.”

“I'm supposed to think of everything. That's my job.”

She squeezed my fingers.

“Your job is to love me and keep me safe. You're doing both. What happened last night wasn't your fault.”