Tell No Lies: A Small Town Romantic Suspense Novel (Lucy Falls) by E.R. Whyte

Author:E.R. Whyte [Whyte, E.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-01-23T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Shiloh

Exhaustion tugs at me when Gunner and I finally say goodnight to the police and close the door behind them. I walk into the living room, Gunner’s hand a reassuring weight on the nape of my neck as he follows. The lamps are off, but the Christmas tree glows, and I don’t bother turning the twinkling lights off.

A chill lingers in the living room, and I rub my arms over my upper arms, looking around. When the cops were here and busy with me, Gunner cleaned up the glass and nailed a square of plywood he’d found somewhere over the broken panes. As much of an eyesore as it is, at least I know my watcher isn’t out there, looking in on me.

It’s something.

I sink onto the couch and lean back into the cushions, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.

“I can’t believe this is still happening,” I say, and Gunner sits beside me, tugging me into a loose embrace. “We’ve got to do something, Gunner. I don’t feel like anyone’s doing anything. I just go one day to the next, waiting for the next thing to happen.”

He squeezes me more tightly to him, and although I’m in no mood to be placated, I melt against his strength. This, I can do. Lean on him. Take the support he offers.

“Hopefully Twiggy will have something for us tomorrow,” he replies. “I spoke to her earlier today.”

“He hurt an animal. A dog, for heaven’s sake. Bocephus wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Anger fills me at the thought of the sweet hound dog who belongs to my neighbor. “If there’s nothing on the two men she’s checking out, I want every man that’s ever been around me looked into.”

A little over the top, maybe, but I’m past the point of being reasonable. “I’m so tired, Gunner.”

“I know, dolcezza. Me, too. Lay your head down.”

I can tell from his tone that he understands I don’t just mean physically. We’re both mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. I lay my head against his chest.

“We’re sleeping here?” His voice is drowsy.

I curl into him, twining my arms around his waist.

“I’m not moving,” I reply.

The room is quiet until a few minutes later, when he whispers into the dim light still coming from the tree. “’Night, love.”

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