Bittersweet (Ocean View #3)

by Morgan Elizabeth

“Well, that too. I can’t stand him. But he can’t even be in the same room as me without arguing with me.” “You never lock your doors.” “What?” “Drives him nuts. Hear him grumbling about it. You never lock your door.” He’s not wrong. And the few times he’s barged in, he’s mentioned that. But what does that have to do with fucking anything? “What does it matter to him? The back door to the street locks automatically. It’s not like I’m leaving his business or apartment at risk.” “It’s not safe.” I stare at her. “He . . . He has a thing about safety. Especially safety for women.” As I’m looking at her, there’s a flash, a memory surfacing. “His hometown. A buddy of his, his girlfriend, was kidnapped. Crazy stalker, obsessed with her. Anyway, she got away, but before that, she was taken to his family’s work site. The girl was kidnapped from her own business, her cop boyfriend sitting right outside. You just . . . You never know.” Her eyes move to my wrist, bruises having long healed, and I wonder if he talked to her about the mark or if she’s remembering when the dark mark caught her own eye. “His brother’s girl? She was in an abusive relationship for years. Things with safety just . . . hit too close to home for him.” I swallow, not knowing what to say. I can’t deny the bruise, but I also can’t tell anyone the real source. Hattie continues talking. “He doesn’t hate you. He . . . doesn’t feel things. Locks himself away. Stays in his art, his business. He’s separated himself from...