Etched in Glass

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Etched in Glass Page 8

by Nyxie Marrs


  “You're not doing it anymore. That is not happening again. You and I will go to the bar and observe.” I didn't mean for it to be an angry demand, but it is. I can’t see her be a victim of any sort.

  “Miles. I'm fine.” She puts her hand to her head.

  “No you're not.” I put my arm around her and lean her into me. She doesn't stop me as I rub her back.

  Damnit, Vega. She scared the hell out of me last night. I should have seen it. It shouldn’t have happened with me there, or at all. I’ve never been in a situation like that, and I’m putting a stop to this.

  “I'm not going in today. Whatever he gave me was different. I checked him out.” She sits up, pulls a wallet from her purse and leans back against me without hesitation. “Definitely not the guy. Just some prick.”

  She tries to laugh but holds her head at the attempt. She stole his wallet? This crazy woman was drugged, took his wallet and kicked his ass. I let out a few disbelieving chuckles. I’m impressed.

  “In a bit we can get some things for you. But I'd like you to stay here for a while. Just to make sure you're okay. Before you tell me to 'fuck off', just let me do it.” I say softly as she adjusts her head against me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s nuzzling into me.

  “Seriously?” She says weakly, as she places her hand over her eyes.

  “Yes. Seriously, Vega. I’m going to make sure you're okay.”

  Chapter 17

  Vega

  I won't admit it, but I'm glad he was there last night. I just don't need to be babysat. What I need is a nice relaxing day to recover from whatever that guy gave me.

  I lean back on the couch as Miles moves about his house. I look around his place. He lives in this giant house by himself? Nice place. It's big, definitely cozy. Didn't think a man would have this kind of a decorating eye either, but it looks pretty good. No sports memorabilia. No crude pictures, nothing indicating a bachelor lives here. It’s very neat, and very put together. I've only seen this living room, but I'm sure the rest of the house is nice too, putting my apartment to shame for sure. This is a resort compared to my place.

  I push myself off of the couch and he rushes to me, brushing his hand down my shoulder and pushes aside my hair as he steadies me.

  “Where the hell are you going?” His soft voice is nice to hear this early. No peppy, upbeat enthusiasm is always nice.

  “I'd say out of here, but we both know that's not happening quickly.” I try to laugh, but that didn't work. “Bathroom. And I really want out of these clothes. Maybe we should go get my stuff?” He helps me to where I need to go with a huge smile on his face.

  “So you will let me help you? Good. Don't think I was taking 'no' for an answer there, Vega. I'll get you something of mine? For now at least.” I nod immediately realizing I shouldn't have done that. The pounding in my head increases and my vision blurs with each strong throb in my veins.

  I lean against the door after I closed it. What was that stuff? Never have I been knocked down like this.

  He’s standing opposite of the bathroom when I step out, with clothes in his hands. I can barely walk on my own right now, there's no way in hell I can safely change into something else.

  “Need help?” I expected to see a satisfied, cocky smile when I looked at him, but there’s only a serious concern and a deep worry in his eyes. He grabs my hand and helps me to a chair at the eat-in counter. He's too damn nice. This is too weird because he's so nice, and it's a bit concerning.

  “Just give me a few minutes.” I rest my head in my hands. He stands behind me and rubs my back. He's really good at this concerning, make-me-feel-better stuff. I let my muscles relax to caring his touch. I shouldn’t care, but why is this man single?

  “Anything sound good to eat or drink? You should probably get something in your system.” That caring voice must definitely be a trick to my ears. This man hasn’t known me long enough for that deep concern.

  “Don't you have to go into work?” I need an excuse for him to leave me at my apartment. Something to put distance between us so I don’t have to worry about him and his tender touch.

  “Nope. Called in. Told Red I was sick. I'm going to take care of you today.” That’s what I’m afraid of. This close contact with him, that damn worry, and he may not know it, but there’s that appealing tone underlying every statement.

  “Miles, I can't have you do that.”

  “Tough. Now, you can get into some comfortable clothes, or have me take you to get some things, and eat something.” Is that a demand? Is this man demanding me around?

  “Too much, Miles. Too much right now.” He keeps his hand on me, stands at my side and looks at me with a heavy worry in his eyes.

  “Vega? Do you need to go to the ER? What can I do?” Why is he being so helpful?

  “I-I think I'm fine, Miles. I just need rest or something. I don't know.” He grabs my hand and takes me to the couch.

  “Water. At least for now.” Handing me the cup insisting I drink. I know I should, I know I need to, but I’m not sure if I can stomach it.

  “I don't know what that stuff was, but hell.” I lay my head on his shoulder. I’m not even concerned that his arm wraps around me, I should be. “Take his wallet and track him down. That shit needs to stop.”

  He nods. “I'll get Redmond on it. Tell him he's a suspect. Look for drugs.”

  “Thanks, Miles.” He tightens his arm. That comforting act stirs my mind. I stay away from a touch like this for a reason.

  We spend all morning at his house. Him refusing to leave my side, which became annoying quickly. Sitting next to me, making me lay into him. Rubbing my back, running his hand through my hair. This man is worried as hell and determined to make sure I’m fine. Everything is muddled, which is probably an effect from the drug, but his acts are overloading my mind right now. Tensing my body at the thought of allowing someone to help me like this. To be this close with soft contact like this. I don’t let this happen. I need to break away before this gets worse. I’ve made sure to avoid contact like this. I can’t repeat the past, and this is wearing on me. But I can’t stop relaxing against him.

  No one other than family has been this concerned for me. The only time he left my side was to get a glass of water or to make something to eat after an hour or so of sitting here. The fact that I’m allowing this to happen is bothersome. I can blame the events from last night, right? My actions right now are very unlike me, and I’m starting to enjoy the comfort.

  “Feel better?” He asks after I’ve finished the small amount of soup. At least it didn’t make me sick as I expected it to.

  “I think so. I could really just go home.” Hinting for me to get out of here. For him to not be this concerned and that I’m capable of taking care of myself.

  “And get your things. Sure. We can do that.” I roll my eyes. What’s it going to take to get him to leave me at my place?

  He gets up before I can reply. He holds out his hand and helps me up. My legs waver with my weight. Feeling unbalanced like they won’t hold all of my weight. Threatening to give out with each step, and my head is still killing me. I’m fine. But he takes our steps slow, asking me every few minutes if I’m okay. I’m going to ban that damn word if I hear it more.

  Once we get to my apartment building, he kept his hand on the small of my back. Guiding me like I’ve forgotten where I lived, or how to walk. He tightly holds my hand as he takes our steps at an irritatingly slow pace as we ascend the few flights to my second story apartment. He takes the keys out of my hand and opens the door like it’s an act he’s done several times before, walking in confidently like he lives here. I’m not going to win this one, am I?

  “Need me to help? Or you can tell me what you need?” This concern is getting irritating. Sure, I’ve never had a drug last this long, or affect me like this, but I’ll be fine on my own. I always am.

  He stays behind me as I walk to my room and sits on the bed while I grab a bag and toss a few artic
les of clothing inside. I’m not comfortable with someone looking after me. Hell, I haven’t known him very long either, making this even more strange. Yet, I’m letting this happen. I glare at him then walked into the bathroom to get the imperative things a woman needs, and change into some sweats, tank top, and a light sweater. Lazy day for sure.

  “You good, Vega?” He asks as I zip the bag shut. He sounds more than eager to help me out of here.

  “I’m fine, Miles, really. You don’t have to do this.” He gets up closing off that conversation before it even had the chance to start, grabbed my bag and my hand leading me out of my room.

  “I’m not leaving you, Vega. Come on. We’ll make a nice and quiet, cozy, relaxing day. How about that?” He watches for a reaction I’m not going to give. It’s like he read my mind.

  Who the hell is this man? What have I gotten myself into? I’ve found myself with a gorgeous man, concerned about my well-being. Taking his time to make sure I’ll be fine. Hell, if Elara could see this now…

  “I- Uh.” I have no idea how to respond as he leads me through my apartment and locks my door.

  “Vega. Please don’t fight this. I should have seen it, shouldn’t have let this happen. I’m sorry I let you down.” He tosses my bag in his car and gently helps me into the seat.

  “Its fine, Miles. I should have seen it. He was pretty good at hiding it. You got me out before anything serious happened. Thanks.”

  There’s that pride on his face, that smug smile at my acknowledgement of his important role in my safety. He’s not going to let me forget that, is he?

  Chapter 18

  Miles

  I’m not happy that she was drugged on my watch, but I’m liking the fact that she’s letting me take care of her today. Sure, a little resistance, a little hint of her staying by herself, but she relaxes on my couch. Sitting in my house without a concern, and I like it.

  “Hey, Red.” I answer my phone. She scoots away, glaring at me like there’s going to be bad news. I hope there isn’t any. She doesn’t need that right now.

  “Picked up that suspect. Not the one we were looking for, but he’s a serial rapist from what we can tell.”

  I look to Vega, I know she can hear him on the phone. She slightly shakes her head as she watches me, her eyes void of expression. I don’t like that look.

  “How many victims?” A look of nausea appears on her face at my question. I rub my hand on her arm hoping it will help her relax, but I’m getting a death stare like I’ve never seen. Okay then, no comforting.

  “Too damn many, that’s for sure. Sick guy kept mementos, had pictures. That sure did him in. How’d you come across him?” Now he’s concerned.

  “Hit a bar last night. Saw the bastard mix it into a woman’s drink. Vega took care of him a bit. Got his ID if that helps.” I chuckle lowly.

  “That explains the messed up nose and the bruises on his face when we picked him up. How come you didn’t call it in? Or take him in?” Damnit, Red. Just drop it.

  “He’s not going to get out, is he?” Of course I’m changing the subject. I don’t really want Red to know Vega was drugged on my watch. It chills me knowing what could have happened if I wasn’t there. What happened when I was is terrifying enough.

  “No. He admitted it, couldn’t really deny the evidence found. No deaths yet, so he says. We’re going to try and contact the women, but we’ve got a few felony charges that’ll keep him locked away for a while.”

  “Good. One less asshole loose, huh?” I coughed slightly, I have to play up my 'sick' part hoping he doesn’t catch on.

  “Yeah. You doing better? You know, Vega’s group came by looking for more information. Said she’s out sick too. What a coincidence.” Crap. He’s onto us. His small snicker alerts me to his curiosity.

  A smile forms on her face that hit her eyes, she looks on the verge of laughter. My plan has been busted, hasn’t it? And she thinks this is amusing.

  “Yup. Sure is. Thanks Red.” I need to get off this phone. I cough a few more times hoping that will be convincing enough to satisfy his interest.

  “Yeah, yeah. Take care Miles. Hopefully see you tomorrow?”

  “I’ll let you know. Thanks.” I toss my phone on the table. A full on laugh comes from her the second I hang up. It’s good to hear her lightheartedness after last night. It looks like her head isn’t killing her as much as it was earlier.

  “You know he doesn’t believe you.”

  I lean back into the couch moving as close as I can to her. I hold my breath as she rests her head against my shoulder, now afraid if I make any sudden movement she’ll pull away.

  “Oh, I know. Plus side, one asshole is off the streets. How are you feeling?” I want to put my arm around her, make it more comfortable for her and me, but I don’t. I’m afraid of the backlash I will get if I make any more comforting acts.

  “Not too bad I guess. I really can stay home you know.”

  “Give it up. I’m taking care of you. You’re staying here for a day or so. Just to let you know.” Hope she accepts it. I know better though.

  “So, you’ve got this nice big, cozy, well-decorated house all to yourself?” Interesting change of subject.

  “Yeah. Used to have a fiancé to go with it. But that didn’t work out.” Not too sore of a subject for me, things just don’t work out sometimes. Although I wish I found that out sooner than I did. I wouldn’t have wasted so much time with someone who didn’t care as much as I did.

  “I’m sorry. Did she do the decorating and you just left it? I mean, it’s pretty good.” I chance putting my arm around her to bring her closer against me, and she doesn’t move away or fight me. Good, I’m glad I took that risk because her relaxed body against mine is putting me at ease with this whole situation.

  “Nope. All me, Vega. I cook too, in case you’re wondering.”

  “Hm. Highly unusual. I’ve never run into one of you, just thought it was all a myth. You guys are pretty rare.” She laughs. Good thing for me she’s met nothing but jerks.

  “You’ve just not met the right man, Vega. If you’re feeling better, I’ll cook you some dinner.” Hell, she probably should eat, it might make her recover slowly if she just battles this out without some type of energy.

  She sighs, pushing her head into me. “Come on, Miles. You don’t have to do all of this. You know none of this is your fault, right? I should have seen it. I sure as hell fixed it.”

  “I was supposed to be your backup, and I failed at that. It’s only going to work if we just observe together.” I feel that small quake in her body as I start to rub her back.

  She lifts her body away from me and sits back on the other side of the couch. She really should resume her position on me. I was beginning to enjoy her relaxed state.

  “Miles.” That low voice of hers is appealing. “Look. I really appreciate your help. Especially with this situation. But you don’t need to feel responsible for any of this. I think, maybe, this is starting to get too comfortable?”

  “What do you mean, Vega?” Hell, she’s been the one to initiate some of these comforting acts, and accepting mine without question.

  “I mean, this.” She motions her hand between the two of us. “This is too close, Miles. Too comfortable. I really want your help, but I just. Can’t. I admit, lines are getting blurred for me when you charm it up. I won’t even bring up the obvious jealousy of Redmond. But, this. Being too nice, too concerned. It’s too close for me.” She tries to chuckle off that awkward feeling. I can definitely see how uncomfortable she is talking about this, but I like how she confronts things head-on.

  If that didn’t put a ton of confidence into my mind I don’t know what would. Good to know she’s getting used to not telling me to 'fuck off', but this concern she’s worried about isn’t going to go away. If anything I’m getting more drawn in and involved the longer I’m around her.

  “Vega. You want my help?” Finally admitting she wants help is good to hear, maybe now she�
��ll stop fighting me. I’ll address those blurred lines later.

  She pushes a lock of her dark, silky hair behind her ear, I swear there’s blush forming on her cheeks and a shy look in her eyes.

  “Well. You do have some good points, ideas maybe.” At least I’ve completely distracted her from that 'too comfortable' statement.

  “Well, that’s a very subtle way to say, 'you were right'. I’ll take it.” I wink at her and hold my arm out like she’s going to curl up next to me again. Like that’s an option after a speech like that.

  “Is that what that was? I can always go my own way, Miles.” That better be a smart ass comment. That sly grin of hers could mean anything at this point.

  “Better not, Vega. You go to the bar by yourself and you’re a target again. If I’m with you, and I mean next to each other the whole time, you’re not a target.”

  “Okay. After last night I realized what you meant, and I’m glad you were there. But don’t misconstrue that as anything else.” She looks away from me. Probably hoping she wouldn’t see the satisfaction on my face. At least now she’s open to the idea that I’m helping her. I hadn’t thought about how I would do it if she fought me the whole time. but I was determined to try.

  Chapter 19

  Redmond

  “Redmond.” Rocky says as he peeks his head in for a second. I hope it’s just a second. We have yet to receive information from these men, only Vega has been helpful. They push aside our theories and research and are downplaying the seriousness of this situation.

  “Rocky.” I reply in the same flat manner hoping he’ll leave. Talking to this man is about as good as talking to a noncompliant criminal. The stagnant conversation is just unbearable.

 

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