Page 8 of Within Shadows

“Try me,” Garrett whispers as I step past him while he opens the door for me.

I stick out my tongue through the window, and he throws his head back with a deep laugh.

A grin slips into place easily as he shuts the door and walks away.

It falls the moment I lock eyes with Oliver, and he’s glaring at me with a sadistic smirk on his lips.

Garrett climbs in the car and turns it on, his phone connecting to the speakers as he hands it to me.

“I’m giving you radio privileges. Don’t let me down now, baby.

” He smiles, and I feel my cheeks heat. We drive away as I pull up my favorite band, setting the phone in my lap as I watch the world pass by us.

“Your taste in music isn’t actually all that bad.

” He taps his thumbs on the wheel to the beat, and I roll my eyes.

My house comes into view, and I tense up, noticing the truck parked in front of the curb.

“They beat us here, and it looks like they’re already measuring and getting your new doors.

” Garrett sounds excited, and I nod, still nervously biting my lip.

Oliver isn’t going to just let me live my life, and I don’t see him challenging Garrett anytime soon.

“Great, I'm sure it’ll help as much as the last one did,” I mutter, and Garrett puts the car in park, reaching out to squeeze my thigh.

“I’ll deal with them while you get ready. Unless you want to come back to my place to get ready?” he offers, and I smile, shaking my head.

“If I bring any more of my stuff to your house, you’ll think I’m trying to move in,” I tease, climbing out of the front seat at the same time as Garrett.

He shrugs, “Your cat already made himself comfortable, and you should do the same. You’re welcome anytime, Maeve.

” I can see him holding back, his cheeks turning pink as he opens his mouth.

Before he can say anything else, we’re interrupted by an older man with a clipboard.

“You the guy who called for the doors?” the man asks. Garrett shoots me a look, one full of longing and hesitation, before he waves me off.

As I step through the house, the hair on my arm stands on end as if somebody is watching me.

I glance over my shoulder, but nobody stands out; only Garrett looks my way, and he gives me a smirk that could melt panties.

I scurry inside, biting my lip as I try to sort through the flurry of emotions that flood my mind.

I try to reason with myself, blaming some kind of trauma bond for the feelings that seem to grow towards him every day.

Stepping back into my bedroom causes me to hesitate as I stare at the window, then down at the bed.

If Garrett didn’t show up when he did, what was Oliver going to do?

A chill crawls down my spine and I wrap my arms around my ribs, hugging my body tight while my mind races.

The edges of my vision blur, darkening as a cold sweat breaks out across the back of my neck.

Memories of Oliver, standing over me, screaming as his fist cuts through the air.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump, and I instinctively turn my face away.

“It’s just me, Maeve,” Garrett says softly, wrapping his arm around me as I finally look up at his face.

He’s frowning, and concern draws his brows down as he slowly pulls me to his chest. I let him wrap his arms around me as I clutch his shirt, mentally begging my heart to slow and fighting to control my breathing.

“You’re safe,” he whispers. I want to believe those words so badly that it hurts. I want to wrap myself in them as if they’re a heavy blanket. Instead, I nod and pull back to give him a shaky smile that doesn’t relieve the concern in his expression.

Garrett keeps his arm around my shoulders as he steers me towards the bed with a determined look in his eye, and I drop down to the corner as he turns to my closet and pulls open the doors. “You own a lot of black.” He smirks at me over his shoulder and I shrug. “It’s my favorite color.”

He nods as if that makes perfect sense and begins pulling out different dresses, turning to hold out a few options for me.

I tap a finger on my chin as I pretend to contemplate both options.

One is a tight black dress that lands just at the tops of my thighs with thin straps, and the other is a simple black and gray striped sweater dress that reaches my knees and has long sleeves with a rolled down collar that drops off of one shoulder.

“I might need a little more visual help, can you try the black one on?” I ask.

Garrett stares at the dress, his wide eyes flicking back to mine as I bite my lip to hold back my laughter.

He makes a show of pulling the dress over his head but leaves it draped around his neck as he turns dramatically.

“This scarf is a solid ten, but the sweater will be so much warmer.” He winks, and I nearly fall off my bed with laughter as he holds the second dress to his body.

Garrett notices the man standing in the doorway soon after I do, giving him a smile and waving.

The black polo shirt has a tech company name displayed on the left side of his chest, and he’s staring between us with a look of confusion.

“What do you think—sweater dress for a night out, right?” Garrett asks, grinning when the guy looks over his shoulder, checking for any excuse to bolt.