Scout stays quiet for a moment, taking in the bloodstained room.“What do you need me to do?”
“Prophet’s truck is out front.”I hand him the keys.“Strip the bed and get rid of the mattress.”
“I can do it,” says Hannah from the doorway.
She’s wearing one of my T-shirts.It’s soaked through, and she’s got a very disgruntled Grace wrapped tightly in a towel in her arms.The cat’s growl is low, a constant reminder that she’s not at all happy about her bath.
I step forward, and a growl escapes me more from the protective instinct clawing at my gut than anything else.Grace buries her head into Hannah’s chest, but the growling stops.It’s almost as if the cat senses something in me that makes her quiet down.
“Hannah, this is Scout.”I nod toward him, my eyes still locked on her.“Give me the furball so you can get changed.”
Hannah looks past me into her room, hesitation flickering in her eyes.“Hello, Scout.”She reluctantly hands Grace over as if she’s entrusting a piece of herself to someone else.“Can you stay with me while I grab some clothes?”
“I can do that,” I answer, my voice calm so she knows she’s safe.
Scout moves past us into the living room, making himself scarce.I watch as Hannah opens drawers and shuffles through her closet.She heads to the bathroom to get changed, and I wait outside the door for her.
When she finally comes out, her hair is pulled up into a ponytail, and she’s dressed in jeans and a simple black T-shirt.It’s a stark contrast to the disarray in her room.She’s still beautiful, even in the midst of this chaos.
“Let’s sit at your kitchen table,” I suggest.
She nods and leads the way, though the tension in her shoulders is hard to ignore.She sits down but immediately stands again.“Did you want coffee?Or a cold drink?”
“I’m good.”I shake my head.
Scout smiles faintly.“I’m fine.”
Hannah offers a small smile of her own before sitting down once more.I sit beside her and gently rub Grace all over to get her dry.After a moment, I release her, and she bolts toward Scout, sniffing him as if she’s trying to figure him out.
“Her name is Grace,” Hannah says softly, a touch of affection in her voice.
I glance over at Scout, who has picked up the cat, and then looks back to Hannah.Moving my chair closer, I take her hand in mine, feeling the warmth of her skin against my own.“Do you think Travis did this?”
A frown creases her brow, her gaze dropping as she processes my question.“I want to say no...”she admits, her voice strained, “...but he’s been persistent.”A tear slips down her cheek, and my heart tugs painfully.I reach up and gently brush it away with my thumb.“It’s hard to believe he’d do that...he knows how much I love Grace.”
“That’ll be why he did it,” Scout speaks up from where he’s still standing with Grace, his tone blunt.He pats the cat’s head, but his focus remains sharp, already thinking ahead.
I squeeze Hannah’s hand, pulling her focus back to me.“There’s more than just Grace’s blood on your bed.She’s lucky to hold three hundred milliliters of blood.Your mattress is soaked through.”My words hang heavily between us, but I press on.“Whoever did this, I don’t think they came here to kill Grace.I think they wanted to scare you.And as an afterthought, they hurt Grace.”
Hannah’s breath hitches.“How did Prophet fix her?”she asks, her voice a mix of hope and desperation.
I lower my gaze to our linked hands, the connection between us stronger than any words could express.I want to tell her everything, to spill all my truths, but I know it’s not the right time.Not yet.
“It’s complicated.”
“That’s what he said,” she murmurs, her eyes also lingering on our hands.
“Prophet has a gift,” I say quietly, my voice almost a whisper.Her fingers tighten around mine, and I raise her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles gently.“I promise I’ll tell you everything, but not yet.Not until we know who this threat is.”
I can feel the weight of her gaze on me, but I don’t look up.Not yet.There’s too much at stake.And if she asks me again, I know I’m likely to tell her everything, but something tells me she’s not ready for it.Not yet.My fingers tighten around hers, grounding me, though my mind races ahead, thinking of everything that still needs to be done.
Hannah’s gaze presses on me, her eyes heavy with expectation as she waits for my response.The silence stretches, broken only by Scout’s voice.“Hannah, is it okay if I get rid of your mattress for you?”he asks, his tone light, trying to ease the tension in the room.
“If it’s no trouble?Otherwise, I can do it,” she replies, her voice still a little shaky but grateful for the offer.
Scout’s smile is easy.“Prophet left his truck so I can easily dispose of the mattress.But what about the sheets and stuff?Do you want to keep those?”
Hannah doesn’t hesitate.She shakes her head.“No, no, take it all, including the rug.”Her eyes flicker back to me before she sighs, shoulders sagging slightly.“It’ll be impossible to get clean, and I don’t want to have to do it.”
