I looked around the yard and at the barn before walking back inside and closing the door behind me. Cheyenne wasn’t in the living room, and I turned at a sound coming from the kitchen. Walking in, I saw her pulling dishes from the stove and placing them onto the cabinet.
Watching her from the doorway, I could see the stress on her shoulders and the worry in her eyes as she busied herself with the task. I vowed as I stood in the kitchen I’d grown up in to protect her with everything in my arsenal and never let anyone or anything hurt or scare her.
But that was unreasonable and outside my control. If bad people wanted to do bad things, they were going to. It would be up to me and my club to get to the bottom of this before anything happened to Cheyenne.
Chapter 15
Cheyenne
Guilt and fear that I’d pulled a gun on Trent had me in tears when he returned to the house. I apologized over and over, but he kept saying it was okay and that I did nothing wrong. It didn’t help, but eventually, I stopped crying.
We ate the delicious dinner CeCe made for us, and when I tried to put away the remainder of the food, Trent stopped me and took care of it. When he was finished, he returned to me and offered me his hand. Standing, I let him guide me back to the living room. When he took a seat in the oversized recliner and tugged on my hand, I sat on his lap.
Curling up, his strong arms wrapped around me as the flames from the fireplace warmed the chill running down my spine. It wasn’t the weather but distress over my actions that chilled me to the bone.
Trent didn’t say anything for the longest time as I stared out a window from my position. Quietly, I said, “It looks like the snow is letting up.”
He glanced and returned, “The weather said we’d get a reprieve from the worst of it. Looks like they may be right.”
Sitting up, I looked at him and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He stroked his hand on my hip as he replied, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You did exactly as you were supposed to. If you’re apprehensive or afraid, I’d rather you have your weapon than not. You never know when a gut instinct may be correct.”
Neither of us said anything for a few minutes when he began to speak. “Do you feel like telling me what had you so worried? I know you said you felt like someone was watching you, but did you see anyone?”
Exhaling, I gathered my thoughts while he patiently waited. “I was enjoying my book and decided to smoke a little before you got home, and while I was sitting here, I had the feeling someone was watching me. When I went to the door, I . . . I saw a raven sitting on the deck, and I guess I let superstitions get to me.”
He nodded his understanding and asked, “Is there anything I can do?”
I snuggled up to him and replied, “Just hold me.”
“That, I can do.”
The daylight outside was quickly fading as the fire burned down, and when a chill started to grow in the room, Trent whispered, “I need to put some wood on the fire if we’re gonna stay here.”
I sat up and looked at him. “Whatever you want to do.”
I felt like there was a block of ice inside me even though I was toasty warm. Smiling at him, I saw the wheels in his head turning, trying to see if I was crazy, paranoid, or just on edge. He patted my leg, and I stood from his lap before he joined me.
Guiding me upstairs, Trent helped me get undressed, and without making me feel like he was in the mood, he picked out a pair of flannel pajamas and insisted on redressing me. When I had on a pair of warm socks, he pulled the covers back on my side of the bed and I crawled inside. Watching from my spot, I observed him pulling his shirt over his head and pushing his jeans and boxer briefs to the floor.
He got in beside me, fully naked but flaccid, and lifted his arm for me to curl beside him. When I was comfy, he turned on the TV and pulled up some old comedy series. I didn’t think I would be able to sleep, but before long, the peacefulness lulled me into slumber, and wrapped in Trent’s arms, I slept through the night.
Waking the next morning, I rolled over to find I was alone, and after sitting up and stretching, I got out of bed to look for Trent. The sun was barely up in the sky as I walked downstairs and heard something coming from the kitchen. Looking through the doorway, I saw Trent drinking a cup of coffee as he spoke with someone on his phone.
Making noise so he knew I was awake, I stepped into the kitchen, and he lifted his head and smiled at me. “Hang on a minute,” he said to whoever he was speaking with before he asked me, “Do you want some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I returned, and he walked up to me and kissed me on the forehead.
“I’ll bring it into the living room. The fire is going, so it should be warm enough for you.”
I shuffled out of the kitchen and across the entrance to the living room. The fire was burning bright as I took a seat on the couch and pulled a blanket onto my legs. I was always either chilly or cold while Trent ran warm or hot, so we were the perfect match. I’d pressed my frozen feet to him, and he groaned with happiness. It worked for us.
He brought a cup of coffee into the living room and showed me his phone. I took the cup and the kiss he offered before he turned and walked out of the room. It was hard to hearwhat he was saying, but the tone of his conversation relayed his frustration.
Who or what he was frustrated at, I didn’t know, but I was almost certain it had to do with what I told him yesterday. There couldn’t be any way Nitro or the Royal Bastards were responsible for girls going missing.
Could there?
