Dante went back up to his room, his thoughts nagging at him. He didn’t go back to sleep. He sat with his laptop doing paperwork, trying to push his anger and his hurt out of his mind.
***
Laurie
Laurie woke up with a start. She wasn’t sure what woke her so suddenly. She had the vague impression it was a nightmare, but it slipped away from her. She felt relieved, remembering the horrible nightmare she had about the tractor-trailer during the night. A shiver ran down her back, and she rolled onto her side so she could curl into a ball.
Laurie crossed her arms, rubbing her own shoulder—a gesture more of self-comfort than a need for warmth. The past few days had jumbled her nerves. She felt like they were tied in a knot, and she didn’t know what end she would pull out as each moment passed. Would it be the crying string, the laughing string, or just pure exhaustion? She wished she had some handbook, some guide to being a witness. She’d read countless books on being a lawyer and how to work with a witness on everything from making a statement to cross-examination, but she never came across a single book that even remotely described the witness experience.
She toyed with the idea of talking to Dante about it. Perhaps his counsel would alleviate the pressure building in her chest, but she rejected it. She knew she was already too much of a burden to him. He couldn’t even get a good night’s sleep around her. She had no idea how to repay his kindness to her.
Yet, he wanted to do more. He offered to sleep in her room with her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It was tantalizing, to be sure. She wouldn’t mind having such a handsome man in her room. He would be sleeping dutifully on the floor, and she knew he would never take advantage of the situation. Yet, his proximity would heighten her interest in him, a fascination that was bound to lead to unhappiness.
This whole situation was fleeting. She accepted that, and she had to keep reminding herself of it. They were going to relocate her to another state. Dante worked and lived in Hawaii. They were together for the moment, nothing more. The more time she spent with him, the more she let him get close, the more it would hurt when she had to separate from him. Or the more it would hurt when he pushed her away. She couldn’t let herself go down this road, emotionally or mentally. She just had to keep a tight rein on her desire and not let it run rampant in her head.
Laurie dragged herself into a seated position. She wrapped her arms around her legs and thought of everything Dante did to protect her and make her comfortable. It was a long list, longer than any list she could make for anyone else.
She was grateful to all of these men. She was determined that no matter how steep or messy or terrifying this trail became, Laurie would make it as easy on them as she could. If that meant putting on a smile no matter how she felt, then so be it. It was the least she could do.
Laurie got out of bed. When she came downstairs, it was already mid-morning. Dante wasn’t anywhere to be seen from the landing, just David. Standing in the same spot as always. She clamped down on her disappointment as she came down the remaining steps. Now would be a good time to exercise some restraint, while putting on a smile.
“Morning, David!”
“Morning, ma’am.”
“Is everyone else asleep?”
“I guess so. I haven’t seen the boss this morning. I took over for Cheyn at eight, but I think he went for a jog. Max is asleep.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want some breakfast, David?”
“Already had some, but you go on ahead.”
She smiled at him. So far, so good. Laurie turned and went into the kitchen. She got out the griddle. She thought she would make French toast for breakfast. She guessed Dante must have stayed up late with her, so she would just have to fix him some breakfast this morning.
She cracked the eggs, whisked in some milk, and went in search of vanilla and cinnamon. She found the cinnamon hiding at the back of a cupboard, but no vanilla. She dipped in the bread and set it on the griddle. Once she finished making hers, she started making Dante’s breakfast.
Just as she laid the second batch on the griddle, the front door slammed open. Laurie jumped. Cheyn strode in, looking surprisingly cross.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Oh, that’s okay. You scared me.” She gave him a smile as she clutched her heart. He didn’t respond, he just moved toward the stairs.
“Cheyn, do you want some French toast? I can make some for you.”
He paused, and then pivoted on the spot.
“Sure.”
“Are you okay? You must be tired.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty tired. How about you? Did you sleep okay?”
Laurie remembered her nightmare. She turned back toward the griddle to take off the French toast and put it on a plate for Cheyn.
“Yeah, I slept okay.”
“Just okay?” Laurie looked over her shoulder and he was watching her.
She gave him a crooked smile and turned back to her bowl as she whisked up some more French toast mix for Dante’s breakfast.
“He told you didn’t he?”
“Who told me what?”
“About my nightmares, don’t act like he didn’t.” She tossed a look over her shoulder.
“He told me, but I wanted you to tell me.” Cheyn smiled with a wink.
“Well, I just did.”
“What are they like?”
Laurie laid Dante’s breakfast on the griddle, and turned to Cheyn.
“They’re always different. Right after my parents died, I used to have them all the time. They went away after a while. Now they’re back again.”
Cheyn nodded. He reached over for the butter Laurie had on the counter and started spreading it on his breakfast.
“You had another one last night, then?”
“Yes. It was an old one. I’m in my parent’s car with them and a tractor-trailer hits us repeatedly until I wake up. I guess I call out during my nightmares. I keep waking Dante up. It’s embarrassing.” Laurie put Dante’s breakfast on a plate. “I think I kept him up too late last night. He hasn’t even had breakfast yet. Do you think I should wake him?”
“He’s awake.” Dante’s voice sounded from the kitchen door.
Cheyn and Laurie turned to see him leaning against the doorframe.
“Oh! Good morning.” Laurie felt her heart lifting. “Are you hungry?”
Laurie tried to block out the rush of pleasure she felt with Dante’s sudden appearance. She wouldn’t be around him for long, and the high-pressure situation created false intimacy. She repeated those things in her head like a chant. She turned back to the counter to pick up their plates.
“Good morning and yes. Thank you for making breakfast.”
Dante poured himself a coffee and one for Laurie. She set their breakfast down on the kitchen table for him. Cheyn put his plate in the sink.
“You’re not staying?” Laurie raised her eyebrows at him.
“Nope, time for bed.” He exited the room and went upstairs.
“He’s in an odd mood.” Laurie sipped her coffee.
“I noticed.” Dante sat down at the table. There was a little bit too much bite in his words. Laurie regarded him with raised eyebrows.
“Does he switch moods often?”
“Not really, no.”
“Hmmm.” Laurie stared at Dante.
He stared at the newspaper on the table, eating his breakfast, but she could tell he wasn’t reading anything. His eyes weren’t even moving on the page. Dante flipped the page, his brow furrowing in concentration.
“How long have you and Cheyn worked together?”
“Three years.”
“How long have you been in the Marshals Service?”
“Five years last May.” He looked up at her, taking a sip of his coffee. Okay, so he apparently didn’t want to talk about Cheyn.