The Long Way Home (Corps Security #6)(46)

“Maybe it’s not that, hon. Maybe he’s just busy?”

“He hasn’t ever been too busy for us. Not in months, El.”

“Evan did mention something about him earlier, but I didn’t even think twice. It was right when the rush had come in, and we were too swamped for me to pry.”

“What did he say?” I ask, squeezing her hand before dropping it and moving around her to leave the bedroom.

“It was weird. They had left his place earlier and nothing was wrong. He hasn’t been able to get ahold of him since.”

“I’m really worried about him, El.”

“I know, girlfriend. I know.”

“Thank you for coming to stay with bean. I’ll try to get back quickly.”

She laughs without any humor. “You won’t do anything of the sort. Get over there and make sure your man is okay. If he is, enjoy the night and be as loud as you want without little ears around. If he isn’t, well … I know my girl’s got this covered, and the last thing I would want you to do is cut some of that healing love you’re so good at giving short. I’ll take care of bean and get her off to school in the morning.”

“I’m lucky to have you.”

“Yeah, you totally are,” she jests. “Now go. Check in, though, okay?”

I give her a hug and promise to let her know what’s going on. Knowing Riley is in good hands is one less stress on my shoulders, but the concern for the man who is quickly starting to own my heart isn’t doused in the slightest.





I climb out of the Uber and close the door, stepping up on the curb to look up at the building where his place is. Even though I can’t see anything—the windows are designed to keep people from seeing in—I can sense him. He’s up there, I know it.

My sweaty palms remind me to get it together, and I wipe them on my pants before reaching out and pulling the door open. I smile when I see Stanley, the night guard, behind the desk. Thankfully, I shouldn’t have any trouble getting up.

“Hello, Stanley,” I call out, walking across the expanse of the lobby to stand in front of his desk. I notice his book and ignore all the security monitors. “Looks like a real steamy one you have today.”

His laughter is immediate. “Wife has them all over the place. Never thought I would get into this chick stuff, but damn if they can’t write a catchy little story. Would you believe that this one even has some mystery in it, too. They’re not all throbbing members these days.”

I laugh at his joke. “You don’t have to tell me twice. I love a good hot romance read.”

“Now don’t go letting my secret out, you hear?”

“Secret is safe with me,” I vow, bringing my hand up to mock lock my lips sealed. “As long as you tell me which book you’re reading.”

He winks, his mocha skin without any wrinkles despite him being close to seventy, and turns the book so I can read the cover.

“What can I do for you, sweet girl?” he asks a moment later.

“I’m just here to see my man. I have a night without the little one and figured I would surprise him.” I point at his book. “You know what I mean. Spicy romance and all.”

This time, he leans his stocky body back in the chair and laughs. “You go on up. You know the code for his floor, right?”

“I do. Thank you, Stan.”

I start walking, but turn back to him when he calls my name.

“Known Drew for close to fifteen years. Since the day I started working here. Not once has he added someone to his guest list. Not until you. It’s really good to see him like this. Happy, I mean. Whatever you’re doing, you keep doing it.”

“That’s my plan, Stan.” I wink and turn to walk over to the elevators. His words warm my soul.

The doors close almost the second I enter the elevator, and not for the first time, I marvel at the security of his building. Each floor has two apartments except for the top two, and you need a code to get the elevator moving for those. I press the six digits quickly, and the door slides open before I have time to wipe my hands again. I walk the small space between the elevator and his doorway and punch in the code to unlock his door, walking into the foyer of his place.

Not a single light on.

All the windows covered with the thick panels that come down from the ceiling to keep the sun out. The only light that is on is the one that lights up the bookshelf in his living area. It’s enough light, though. The glow from them has my feet rushing forward the second I see his still form across the couch in what looks like the most uncomfortable position I have ever seen. That’s saying something since the little girl who I left sleeping to come here can fold herself up in all sorts of ways when she’s tired enough.

This, though … this is more than just tired.

This is something much worse.

I step over the beer cans, moving silently through the reminders of how he came to rest like that scattered all around him. An empty liquor bottle is still in his hand as it dangles from the couch. His hair a tangled mess around his face. One leg hanging off the couch and the other hooked over the back. His clothes from the other day when I left his place not changed.

He looks terrible.

I want to wake him and demand answers to what is wrong. I know he needs something different right now, though. I don’t know how I know that. Maybe it’s because there is some kind of sadness hanging thick in the air that tells me I’m right. One thing I know with complete certainty though is that I need to be his support and not judge whatever state he has gotten himself into.