chapter 8
TRINITY
TREVOR FUCKING STATTON.
There was always something about him that set me on edge, like he was a bomb waiting to detonate. Goes to show that my gut instinct is never wrong, even when I was just sworn in and wasn’t sure what I was doing. I sigh and push the pizza box away, my eyes bigger than my stomach. Luckily Callum eats the fries and garlic bread, along with most of the pizza, so I don’t have to feel bad about wasting food.
Callum sighs and says, “You know you go ice queen sometimes, right?”
“What?” I ask, laughing softly. “I do not. And I’m sorry about the whole Trevor thing.”
I don’t know why I didn’t tell him, other than I’m not used to having to explain myself, and it was just a guess.
“I guess I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me, to be honest. You kind of need to trust me. And if you don’t after everything we’ve been through today, then I don’t know what else to say to you,” he says, studying me.
He’s right, of course. He saved my life, and I kept him in the dark. A small piece of information, yes, but I still did it.
“I do trust you,” I tell him, only realizing now that it’s true.
I trust him.
I hardly trust anyone.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I promise I won’t keep you in the dark, even if it’s just a theory.”
“Good,” he murmurs, rubbing his flat stomach. “Going to need to go to the gym after that.” He pauses, then adds, “Or run from criminals. Whatever our new exercise regime is.”
“You don’t take anything seriously, do you? Here you are making life-or-death jokes,” I point out, shaking my head. “Quite the duo, aren’t we?”
“The nerdy Bonnie and Clyde,” he says, chuckling. I join in, the two of us both in this laugh-or-cry situation, both so out of control and our comfort zones that we have nothing else to do but try to hold on to what else is thrown at us, and to try to survive.
How things can change in an instant.
“You’re not so bad, Judge Williams,” he murmurs, looking at me before going back to the forgotten television screen, the nightly news now playing.
“Right back at you,” I say to his profile. “I think I’m getting used to the chattiness.”
“You’ll learn to appreciate it.”
“I hope so, otherwise it will drive me insane,” I fire back.
I lay my head on the soft suede, closing my eyes, exhaustion suddenly hitting me.
“Come here,” he demands quietly, tapping his strong thigh. I scoot closer to him and rest my head there, reclosing my eyes.
There’s a weird connection between us, along with some tension, a draw of some kind that has always been there, but I was able to ignore. Now, it’s intensified. The boundaries that kept me safe before are no longer there, but I need to just keep reminding myself about the reality of the situation, not get complacent in this temporary state we’ve found ourselves in.
Temporary.
This is temporary.
I drift off, my head against his thigh, and I sleep like a baby.
Like I didn’t almost lose my life today.
I wonder if it’s because of my strength or my company.
I WAKE UP TO a knocking on the front door, so I sit up quickly and with a deep intake of breath, wondering what is going on now. My eyes dart around the bedroom, and I find myself alone, but then Callum appears in the doorframe. He must have carried me here after I fell asleep last night.
“The cops are here and want to talk to us,” he tells me. “Do you want some coffee?”
“I’d love some,” I tell him, my voice husky from sleep.
“Take your time,” he says kindly, closing my door and leaving me alone once more.
I fall back on the bed for a moment, but then force myself up and into the shower. Who knows what’s going to happen today, but I want to be clean and dressed for it. After I dry myself I put on a pair of skinny jeans and a black top, then make my way to the living area. Callum hands me a hot mug of coffee, and I quickly sit down.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He sits next to me, the roughness of his jeans rubbing against my free hand, which is resting next to my thigh.
“It’s him” is all the officer says, something I already felt like I knew.
“And now what?” I ask him, remaining calm.
“The two of you are going to be put in protective custody until we catch him and put him back in prison, where he clearly belongs,” the officer explains. “Pack your things. We’ll be heading to the new location as soon as possible.”
“Out of curiosity, why can’t we stay here?” Callum asks.
“This is just a temporary safe haven,” the cop informs us. “We don’t have the manpower to have this many cops watching you all of the time, so we’re going to move you somewhere a little farther away. Trust me, there’s no way in hell he or anyone else is going to find you. New town. New identity. New names, and you’ll get new cell phones too. You’re going to be untraceable.”
“My brother—”
“Is fine,” the cop cuts him off. “He’s with Eddie, and we have someone checking in with him. You have no need to worry about him, Callum. You need to worry only about yourself and the judge.”
“He can’t have any contact with him at all?” I ask, feeling terrible for Callum. Can’t they text message, or something? Surely they can’t trace us just from that. Trevor would have had to figure out who Callum is and stalk him to get that far, never mind know someone tech savvy enough to pull that off.
“You can call him now, or any time before you’re relocated,” the officer says. “But after that I’m afraid not. You’re going to have to trust us to keep your brother safe, all right? If there’s any kind of threat, he’ll be relocated as well, but I assure you, he’s not on anyone’s radar right now.”
Callum’s Adam’s apple works as he swallows. “Okay.”
He doesn’t have much of a choice. I reach out and take his hand, because I don’t know what else to do. If anything happens to Justin, even though I know it’s a long shot, I would never ever forgive myself.
“It will be okay,” I say, even if I don’t know if that is the truth. Nothing is guaranteed, and I probably shouldn’t make promises that I can’t keep. But what else am I meant to say? The sooner they catch this guy, the sooner that we can get back to our old lives, and everyone can be safe.
I turn to the officer and tell him, “I want to make a call too.”
He nods and then moves to stand at the door. I turn to Callum. “You call your brother and tell him what’s going on. I’m going to call my cop contact and ask him to personally make sure your brother is okay. Then at least we know someone I trust is looking after him instead of a stranger.”
Callum nods and gives my hand a squeeze. “That would make me feel a little better.”
“Good,” I tell him, taking a deep breath. “We can do this.”
We can.
We have no choice but to.