If No One Else

ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ⁶

6. s t r a w b e r r y  &  s e a t b e l t s
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"—not able to take your call right now. I'll call back at the soonest convenience—"

I pull the phone away from my ear and hang up, having heard my mother's voicemail so many times, I know every word by heart.

How sad.

I sigh and toss the phone onto the couch, about to join it when muffled voices start moving toward me.

Gael finally steps into view, a faint glint in his eyes. "We're nearly done, Chandler. We accessed the footage, just need to review it. We should be able to ID the suspect soon."

I fold my arms across my chest and stare back at him, unimpressed. "Does that mean everyone's finally getting out of my house, or are we having another slumber party?"

Yeah, I'd been scared last night—but now? I was just over it. Strangers searching through my house, officers everywhere. Too many footsteps, too many voices. Too many men.

It felt like my worst nightmare had been turned into a daylong performance, and I'd been forced into the lead role.

"Chandler—" He exhales, taking a step closer. "Yeah, we're about to leave. Most of the guys have already packed up and left. I was just checking on you before I head out."

I fall onto the couch with a breath of my own, wiping at my forehead like I'd actually been sweating.

"But you need to make some changes," he continues, falling into lecture mode. "Especially if you're going to keep living here by yourself. This house is huge, secluded—you need more security. Cameras, better locks—hell, just lock the damn doors, period. Last night, I found a few unlocked."

His voice sharpens, that worried glint turning to full-on pity.

And there it is.

The charity-case look.

Like I was some helpless little girl playing adult in her Barbie Dream House.

"I'm fine, Officer. I can take care of myself," I snap, unable to mask how disgusting that expression makes me feel.

He doesn't flinch. "You can think that all you want, but this world is crazy. You're a young woman living alone in a place like this. You need all the protection you can get. That's just facts."

He folds his arms like he expects me to suddenly agree with him. Not gonna happen. Not right now.

I roll my eyes and grab my phone again, turning the screen on—still no missed calls from my parents.

Figures.

"You sure you'll be okay?" He asks. "Do you want me to have someone patrol the house tonight?"

His concern flickers real this time—less officer, more human—and a strange heaviness settles in my chest. I have to drop my gaze.

"I'll be fine. Seriously. Go do... whatever it is you guys do. Don't waste your time on me."

It comes out softer than I intended. A truth I don't want to admit out loud.

Because accepting help means accepting that I might actually need it—and I don't know how to be that kind of person.

"You sure?" he asks, voice low.

"Never been more sure, Officer." I force a grin and flash a thumbs-up. "I'll order the security stuff, double-lock the doors, call the station if a leaf twitches the wrong way. You can go now!"