The Suspect

chapter 24

After a few minutes of getting my heart rate back to normal, I quickly shower and slip into my pajamas. Grabbing my stuff, I walk towards the bathroom door, take a deep breath and walk out.

I don't look around for him but head straight to my bag, putting my stuff back in and taking out a muscle spray. There's a mirror right next to where our bags are so I slightly lift up my tank top and look over my shoulder and into the mirror. My eyes widen at the big purple bruise on the side of my hip, right next to my wound from a few weeks ago that, thankfully, has healed.

I extend my hand towards it, but I can't seem to find a proper angle to work. Just as I'm about to put it away, Tatum takes the spray from my hand.

"Here let me do it," he says softly, his jaw shut tight. He grits his teeth together, a grim expression forming on his face.

I turn around and lift my tank top up again, and jump when I feel his hands brush the side of my hip. One of his hands comes around my other bare hip and holds me there while he uses the other to put the spray on my bruise. As soon as the cool air of the spray hits me, I squirm and feel his hand tighten for the fourth time today. Once he's done, he caps the bottle and throws it into my bag before storming into the bathroom and slamming the door.

"Thanks...I guess," I say, perplexed at his behavior.

I sigh and carefully sit on the bed, my back resting against the headboard. My muscles immediately begin to loosen up and relax, and I exhale a breath of relief and comfort. I get my phone and send a text to my dad telling him everything went well.

His reply comes back in an instant.

Dad: Good. Any leads?

Me: Yes and no. The guy we caught and interrogated was speaking in broken English so we got a few things about the description of the man that must have sent the letter to Ty.

Dad: Oh, that's great. Keep me updated. Please.

Me: You know I will.

Dad: Okay, good night, Pumpkin.

I groan at that name again but also smile at it.

Me: Good night.

I place my phone on the nightstand and close my eyes for a few minutes. My breathing evens out, and my hip feels much more relaxed too. The click of a door wakes me up and I turn to see Tatum.

My eyes widen at the sight in front of me. He's just out of the shower, the droplets of water smoothly running down his hair and chest. The water goes through the ripples and dips of his muscles and his abs. My eyes follow the movements of water and dip down to his V line. His very prominent V line. Holy mother of god. His hair is messy and wet, and a towel is wrapped around his waist.

Without sparing me a glance, he heads to his bag and picks out his pajamas, while I get the perfect view of his ass. If I'm being honest; I could get used to this. But I shouldn't. He turns back around and I snap my eyes away, but he catches it. Silently, he walks back into the bathroom, but I don't miss the smirk on his face.

He walks back in a few minutes later and lays down on the bed beside me. He's shirtless and in his fleece pajamas. Again. All of a sudden it all starts to feel like deja vu. My eyes roam around the room, and that's when I realize something.

"Where are you going to sleep?" I ask, breaking the silence.

He turns towards me and gives me a look that says 'are you stupid?'

"On the bed, of course." he shrugs and I shake my head.

Nope. Absolutely not.

"No, I'm sleeping on the bed. Not you. You can take the couch," I mindlessly add and he scoffs.