Chapter 20

Connie leaned her back against the headboard and took a careful sip of the steaming hot coffee that she had prepared. Her gaze drifted to where Trace was sleeping beside her. He was lying on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow, and his thick arms were wrapped around it tightly. She had no idea how he could sleep like that, let alone breathe.

She wasn’t sure when he had gotten into bed, but she had awakened around six and he hadn’t been in the room. It was now eight. He couldn’t have been asleep long.

Holding the large mug of coffee between both hands, she took another careful sip and glanced around the room. It was large for a guest bedroom. Even with the king-size bed, there was plenty of space for two large nightstands, a dresser and a large comfortable-looking chair near the walk-in closet.

The only problem with the lovely room was that it reminded her of why she was there in the first place. She still couldn’t wrap her brain around her circumstances. Technically, she was homeless because some jerk thought it would be a good idea to burn her house down—with her inside it.

A cold chill slithered through her veins. Just thinking about how she could’ve died last night, and for what? Connie wasn’t even sure. That made her angry and sad at the same time. She wished she could blink or tap her heels together a few times and make her life go back to what it was before the bank robbery.

If only.

She set the mug on the nightstand and glanced at Trace. Maybe she didn’t want everything to go back to the way it was. If it did, that would mean that the two of them would still be just friends. Connie never wanted to return to that. It was because of him that she had even survived the last week.

She brought her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes. If only she could stop thinking. She couldn’t. Flashbacks came to her in a rush and tears leaked from her eyes. The horror of seeing her house burning would stay with her forever. That emptiness that she felt while sitting inside Langston’s car was back.

What am I going to do?

Where do I even begin?

She covered her face with her hands as an overwhelming wave of sadness engulfed her. This was all too much. Her whole life was falling apart and she didn’t know how to fix it. Despair settled around her and seeped into her soul as her sobs came harder and grew louder despite trying to muffle the sound.

What am I supposed to do? The question played around and around inside her mind. For the most part, she’d had an easy life and could handle just about everything. But this? This was too much.

Connie didn’t know how long she sat there crying when she felt a hand on her bare leg.

“Sweetie, we’re going to get through this.”

Trace’s sleep-filled voice penetrated through her thoughts, and Connie frantically wiped her face before looking at him. He had already seen her at her worst, but she didn’t want him to see her still crying.

He was staring at her with bloodshot eyes, and he looked absolutely exhausted. That almost made her start crying all over again. She knew he’d stayed up to get answers...for her. Considering the crap he’d been going through with her this past week, it was a wonder he hadn’t run for the hills.

His large hand was still on her leg and he squeezed. “I promise things are going to get better. Don’t lose hope, okay?”

Not trusting herself to speak, all Connie could do was nod. When Trace turned onto his back and opened his arm to her, she didn’t waste any time snuggling against him. Her head on his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her helped ease some of the melancholy that had settled inside her.

She inhaled deeply, soaked up his fresh scent, then slowly released the breath.

“Thank you...for everything you’ve done for me and all that you’re doing,” she said. “I can’t imagine going through these last few days with anyone but you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” His deep, raspy voice sounded so tired, but that didn’t stop him from trying to comfort her. “There’s no other place I’d rather be than right here with you. Except maybe on a beach somewhere, but definitely with you.”

“A beach sounds wonderful right now.” Connie closed her eyes and tried to imagine huge waves crashing against rocks and seagulls shrieking in the distance. She and Trace would be lounging on the white sandy beach as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

“I still owe you a real first date. How about when this is all over, we take some time off and go to the Bahamas?”

Connie opened her eyes and glanced at him. “Really? Will I get to meet your dad?”

Trace gave her a tired smile and nodded. “Yeah. We’ll stay in a hotel, though, because you get a little loud when we make love.”

Connie’s mouth dropped open. “Me? I wasn’t the only one screaming my release, if I remember correctly.”

“Men don’t scream. I don’t scream. What you heard was a growl or a roar. Definitely not a scream.”

“All right, if you say so, but I’m pretty sure you were screaming ‘uncle.’”

He chuckled, and Connie returned her head to his chest, enjoying the way his hand glided up and down her hip. And just like that, he managed to pull her out of her funk. Her heart might be aching for the home she had lost, but being with Trace reminded her of what was most important in life. Family and friends.

Acknowledging that made her think about her parents. It was time she put the past in the past and reconnected with both of them. Just because she didn’t agree with a lot of their decisions when she was growing up didn’t mean that she didn’t still love them.

That was her last thought before drifting back to sleep.

A few hours later, Connie climbed the stairs with a tray of food. When she came up with the idea of giving Trace brunch in bed, she hadn’t realized what a pain it would be carrying food to the second floor.

When she reached the top landing, Trace was exiting the hallway bathroom with a towel around his neck and clothes in his hand.

“I’m so glad you’re awake. Can you help me?” Connie asked. He’d been asleep when she’d gone downstairs to cook, but, boy, was she glad he was awake. Her arms were like limp noodles from carrying the heavy tray.

Trace hurried toward her and reached for the tray with his free hand. “What’s all of this?”

“Whew, thanks. That was tiring,” Connie said and shook out her arms. “I wanted to do something special for you. Before Langston left the house, he told me to make myself at home. So I made you breakfast. Well, actually, brunch.”

“That’s sweet of you, but this tray was too heavy for you to be carrying up the stairs. I could’ve eaten in the kitchen.”

“Then it wouldn’t be breakfast in bed. Now come on and get back in bed.”

Trace chuckled. “I’m right behind you.”

He followed her into the bedroom and dropped his clothes into a nearby chair. Connie repositioned the pillows on the bed, then took the tray from him.

“Now get in.”

“Boy, you’re bossy this morning.” He did as he was told and climbed onto the bed before taking the tray from her. Connie settled in next to him.

“Can’t say that I’ve ever had breakfast in bed.”

Connie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” He shook his head while chewing a piece of bacon. “That’s great. That means you’re having a first with me.”

“Sweetheart, I plan to have a lot of firsts with you.” With a finger under her chin, he pulled her close, then kissed her lips. “Feel free to give me breakfast in bed anytime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He pointed at the three plates that were on the tray. “I assume this is for both of us?”

“I ate a little while I was downstairs.” She actually didn’t have much of an appetite, which wasn’t unusual. That was usually the first thing to go when she was worried or stressed about something.

“How’d you sleep?” Trace asked, digging into the hash browns as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Okay. Kept waking up, but thanks to you, I was able to sleep soundly for a few hours. You must be exhausted. I actually thought you’d still be at least lying down.”

“I’m all right. I took a quick shower and that helped. I knew we needed to start planning our next steps.”

“Does that mean you know who set the fire?”

“Not yet.”

Connie had already contacted the insurance company, but it would take a few days before the insurance adjusters could get to the house and assess the damage.

“Max said the house is unlivable and it doesn’t look like anything is salvageable,” Connie said.

The whole situation felt so surreal. She’d had a couple of moments throughout the morning where she was trying to make sense of everything. It was still hard to believe that the home that she had saved up to buy was gone.

“When did you talk to him?”

She reached for one of the coffee mugs on the tray. “While I was cooking breakfast. I texted him earlier and asked if he could go by and check out the damage.”

Connie had always wanted a big brother, and from the time she and Trinity had become roommates in college, Maxwell treated her like a little sister. He even made it his duty to scare off boyfriends that he didn’t like. As usual, he came through for her by going by the house.

“What else did Max say?”

“He said the garage is fine, but I won’t be able to pull the car out because of the debrief in the driveway. He put caution tape around the property and is supposed to check and see if maybe he can clear out the driveway. Then he’ll move my car to someplace safe.”

Connie had also talked to Trinity and Erica. Both were freaked out, but grateful that she and Trace were safe.

“I heard from Indie this morning,” Trace said. “Our mystery man’s name is Daniel Atkinson. He’s new on the modeling scene. Indie had never seen or heard of him until the night of the fashion show. I guess the designer recently discovered him.”

“Is it possible that he was the guy from the bank?”

Trace gave a slight shrug. “Now, that I don’t know. Langston brought up a good point that just because we didn’t see a tattoo on this guy doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he could’ve had makeup or something covering that area on his neck.”

Connie nodded slowly. She hadn’t thought of that. “It would’ve had to be some pretty heavy-duty stuff. You were really close to him and didn’t see signs of a tattoo.”

“True, but right now, we’re not ruling anything out.”

“What did Indie think of the guy? Does she know if he has a tattoo? Did she say he was creepy?”

Trace’s eyebrows were scrunched when he glanced at her. “No, she didn’t say he was creepy. As a matter of fact, she said he was a really nice guy. The event organizer is planning to use him in other shows.”

“So he’s probably not the bank robber,” Connie said with resignation. She couldn’t wait until she could go back to a normal life and not think about robberies or models.

“Maybe not, but he’s the one who stole your wallet.”

Her head jerked around to Trace so fast, it was a wonder she didn’t have whiplash. “What? How do you know?”

He told her how he and Langston had watched the restaurant video again. Connie hadn’t even considered that she might’ve lost her wallet while at the restaurant. The more she learned about this guy, the less she liked.

“Besides credit cards and licenses, what else was in your wallet?”

Connie sipped her coffee and tried to recall what she’d had in the wallet. It wasn’t much. “I had a few dollars in there and maybe a few business cards, including my own.”

“Okay, so he knows where you work. We’ll need to mention that to Trinity so that she can have some extra guys hang out there until this is over.”

“I can take care of that,” Connie said, making a mental note of whom to assign and what all they’d need to do to bump up security. “I also had an emergency contact card in my wallet. It has Erica’s information on it. I’ll see about assigning one of the guys to her and Nakia.”

“Get Hudson. He’s great with kids,” Trace said as he finished off the breakfast.

Connie didn’t know that about Hudson but planned to add that information to his file. Maybe Trinity was right in suggesting they offer Trace a management position. The security team respected and trusted him. He had a different type of relationship with them than she and Trinity did. A relationship that could prove beneficial when matching security specialists to potential clients.

For the next few minutes, they discussed their plans. Trace suggested that they stay the night with Langston and then make a move the next morning. In the meantime, they needed clothes and toiletries before they relocated to one of LEPA’s safe houses.

Connie was used to taking care of logistics for clients. She just never thought that she’d be one of them.