Then I took Mike’s beer from him and downed a gulp as I leaned into his side.
Mike wrapped an arm around my shoulders and shouted, “No! When you get your hands cleaned of that meat, bring Dusty a beer, yeah?”
“Yeah Dad!” No shouted back.
“I’ll get it!” Rees shouted from what sounded like the hall.
I grinned at the TV.
Mike quit rubbing Layla, took the beer I confiscated then took a pull.
Then he handed it back to me and went back to rubbing Layla who, throughout his movements, followed them with blinking eyes but she didn’t lift her jaw from his thigh.
I trained my eyes back to the TV and didn’t move them even when I heard Mike mutter, “Thank you, Angel,” with an accompanying arm squeeze.
“No problem,” I muttered back.
“Here’s your beer, Dusty,” Rees said, I turned to her and saw her extending a bottle to me.
“Thanks, Reesee,” I replied, handed Mike’s off to him and took it.
Her eyes went to Fin and they were hesitant but she was determined.
I knew this when she gamely powered through her embarrassment, decided to pretend the whole incident didn’t happen and announced, “Fin, I’ll go grab my books after I help out No.”
Fin grinned at her and muttered, “Whatever, babe.”
She grinned back.
Then she turned on her foot, her thick, shining hair flying and walk-skipped down the hall.
All was well in teenage world.
I looked to Fin to see him gazing down the hall, his lips twitching. Then his eyes went back to the coffee table.
God, I loved my nephew.
Mike’s arm gave me another squeeze.
Layla groaned and settled on her belly on the floor.
I tucked my feet under me, leaned deeper into my man, took a pull off my fresh one and zoned out with my eyes on the TV while I waited for hamburgers.
*
I jerked awake with a start as I felt Mike’s body leave the curve of mine. With more opportunities, we were experimenting with new sleeping positions and we’d been spooning. Personally, I didn’t care how we slept just as long as we cuddled while doing it. Since every position we’d come up with involved cuddling, it was obvious Mike felt the same.
I often sensed Mike wake in the night and it woke me because his body was always pressed to mine or mine to his in one way or another. And, in addition to the first time he did it, Mike had left me in the night once to do a walkthrough of the house. This had been Sunday night, the first night I slept under his roof when his kids were doing the same. Understandable seeing as he loved us all and our change in circumstances would put him on edge.
But now I sensed something was wrong.
I would know I was right when Mike rolled back into me, grabbed my hand and pressed my fingers around what felt like his phone.
“Call nine-one-one, now,” he whispered in my ear, his quiet voice urgent and I felt my body go tight but Mike was out of bed like a shot.
I rolled, looking at his shadow in the dark and feeling the bed move as Layla shifted up and jumped off.
Then I heard the sounds a gun made on TV or in the movies when someone was fiddling with it.
Oh God.
“Mike?” I whispered.
“Nine-one-one,” he returned quietly. “Now, Dusty.”
I randomly hit a button on his phone and the keypad fortunately lit up. Then with a trembling hand, my thumb moved over it, doing as Mike asked.
“You stay in here, girl.” I heard Mike whisper and my eyes went to the doors to see the shadow of one open and close and I knew Mike left Layla behind.
I put the phone to my ear and heard, “…one, what’s your emergency?”
“This is Dusty Holliday. I’m at three-three-two-one-seven Crescent at The Creekview. My boyfriend told me to call you. He’s Lieutenant Mike Haines of the Brownsburg Police Department. He just left the room with his weapon. He didn’t explain why but I think you should send someone.”
“Repeat your name and address please,” she requested.
“Dusty Holliday. I’m at the home of Lieutenant Mike Haines, three-three-two-one-seven Crescent.”
“Please stay on the line with me, Dusty. I’m sending a unit. Do you hear anything?”
I sat in bed trembling and the only thing I heard was Layla’s dog tags jingling. I could see her shadow pacing to Mike’s side of the bed and back to the door then again and again. She wanted out. She was worried. She wanted me to get off my ass and open the door so she could have her Dad’s back.
Shit!
“No,” I answered the operator. “But I’m not the only one in the house. Mike’s two kids are here.”
“Right. Stay on the line, Dusty. The call has gone to dispatch. They’ll send a unit.”
“Okay.”
“Where are you?”
“In the bedroom.”
“Stay there, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered, staring at the door, wanting to go to the kids, listening hard, breathing harder.
I must have done this a long time because the operator called, “You with me, Dusty?”
“Yes.”
“I have confirmation a unit is en route.”
“How long?” I asked.