Page 39 of Unbound

She doesn’t seem to find one though, and I don’t feel super inclined to let this drop. I’m not exactly suspicious of Sybil anymore, but her motivations still aren’t making a lot of sense to me. I need this to make sense, because not much else does right now.

“As it was…?” I step a little faster, closing the distance between us just as her back hits the wall. I can feel her gasp of surprise brush across my skin as I slap both hands against the wall at each side of her body, caging her in. “What?”

Sybil makes a sound I’ve heard from her a few times. I thought it was fear, but the longer I’m around her, the more I’m starting to discover this woman doesn’t actually have much fear. It’s one of many reasons I have no intention of letting her leave my house until I’m confident in her safety. But if that tiny whimper isn’t because she’s afraid of me…

Sybil’s blue eyes travel upward, dragging over my front before finally coming to rest on my face. Her pupils are blown, lips parted as she stares up at me. “Interest.”

I don’t know why, but I inch closer, drawn in by the sort of reaction I haven’t seen from a woman in a long time. Even if I refuse to name it, my body absolutely recognizes it, and it’s a lure I’m obviously ill-equipped to resist. “Interest in what happened to my mother?”

Sybil lets out another soft gasp as I crowd closer. “That too.”

Interesting. “What else did you find interesting?”

The tip of her tongue sneaks out to flick across the fullness of her lower lip, dragging my attention there. I watch as a single word slips from the mouth I can’t seem to look away from.

“You.”

It’s an unsurprising answer, but still doesn’t quite make sense. Because I’m not an interesting man. I work. I come home. My only real hobbies are helping my family when they need it, and binge watching whatever show I hear someone mention in the break room. I drink my coffee black. I buy the same fucking socks and underwear when the old ones wear out. I’m not funny like Toby or charming like Tucker. I’m not kind like Titus or even high-strung like Trevor.

I am about as uninteresting as it gets. And I’m okay with that. Have to be.

Because the alternative sounds like way too much fucking effort and hassle.

That leaves one reasonable explanation why Sybil seemed to get hung up on investigating my life. “Because of my connection to your father’s death.”

A strangely high-pitched laugh erupts from her, but she sobers almost instantly. “Oh. You’re being serious.”

I frown, because I don’t know what she means. “I’m always being serious.”

“I have noticed that.” Sybil rubs her lips together, pulling in an uneven breath as she shifts on her feet, blue eyes moving from one of my arms to the other. Like she’s gauging whether or not she’s fast enough to duck under one before I can catch her.

Part of me wants her to try. The part of me that can’t help but react to her closeness. The part of me I’m doing my damnedest to ignore.

“Life is serious. I don’t see any reason to pretend it’s not.” It’s an insight I don’t share with many people. Possibly no one.

My family would try to force levity on me, and I don’t want that. My friends would…

I don’t know what they would do since I don’t actually have any.

“Life is serious, but that doesn’t mean you can’t let yourself enjoy it sometimes.” Sybil’s lips curve into a hint of a smile. “Not that I’ve made it particularly easy for you to do that.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I haven’t hated her presence, when someone pulls into my driveway, a loud chime signaling their arrival.

Sybil’s big blue eyes swing toward the front of the house, her hands coming to grip the front of my shirt. “Does that mean someone’s here?”

“It does.” I straighten, pissed at the interruption. “It’s probably one of my cousins.”

Or maybe one of the men who ransacked Sybil’s hotel room this morning, but I don’t point that out.

Stepping away from the wall, I use one arm to sweep her at my back. “Stay behind me.”

Her hands go from gripping my chest to clinging at my shoulders as she does what I say, her soft body pressed close enough to be a distraction. “If it’s one of your cousins, why do I need to stay behind you?”

That’s a good fucking question, and I’m not gonna answer it.

“Shh.” I grab my phone from the kitchen counter as we pass, opening the app displaying the feeds from the cameras mounted around my property.

The vehicle parking in my driveway is a familiar one, but I’m not sure if I’m relieved or annoyed by it. I would almost rather take on the pricks from the hotel than the woman hauling two bags toward my front door. I’ve got some shit to work out, and smashing in a few faces would go a long way in getting that handled.