He shadowed her as she moved into the living room, then the bathroom and finally her bedroom.

She was relieved to find that everything looked normal. There was no cryptic message on the walls, no surprise in her bed or whatever she would've found if she'd been the victim in one of those gruesome crime doc.u.mentaries Mariah loved.

After a split second, her relief began to turn to embarra.s.sment. Maybe she should've called the department's non-emergency number and had them send out an officer who was actually on the clock.

"I guess the flowers are it," she said. "Everything looks fine to me."

She gave her closet another once-over, running her fingers through sleeves, skirts and pant legs. It was all exactly as she'd left it the night before.

"Good," Elijah said.

"Sorry I made you come out here. I should've just called the department. I was creeped out when I realized someone had been in here."

"You should be. No more apologizing someone's been in here, and that's a real concern. You need to get in touch with your landlord and have your locks changed. Until then, you shouldn't be alone here."

"I was planning on going back to the hospital anyway I only came here to shower."

"I can hang out in your living room while you do that, if you want."

"That's really kind, but you don't have to do that. I can go to a friend's house."

He shrugged. "It's up to you, but it wouldn't take long and I'm already here. I know you're tired."

He was right. Sometime during the past half hour, her exhaustion had truly settled into her bones. She didn't feel like driving to Mariah's.

"Thanks so much. I'll only be ten minutes." She called her landlord and left a message before stepping into the shower.

She made good on her promise not to take long. After pulling on fresh jeans and a tank top, she ran a comb through her hair, added a little anti-humidity product and left it down to dry naturally.

When she stepped out into the main part of the house, the air was filled with the scent of brewing coffee and she had a voicemail from her landlord.

"Hope you don't mind," Elijah said, "but I figured you could use some coffee. I know I could."

"Mind? Are you crazy? It's like you're telepathic."

He shrugged. "Without coffee, the police department would fall apart within a week. It'd be pure anarchy on the island."

"Funny sometimes it feels the same way at the college, and we don't even have to work nightshifts. I don't know how you guys pull it off."

She brought up her voicemail inbox and listened to her landlord's message.

"Apparently my landlord is on the way over here already."

"That's cool. I'll hang around until then."

She pulled two mugs out of a cupboard. "Thanks again."

"No big deal. You're important to Jackson, so you're important to me. Least I can do is make sure you're safe while he's in the hospital."

"You two must be good friends."

He nodded. "We live together and we work together if you can stand the sight of someone after several years of that, you've got a friend for life."

She took a first sip of her coffee. It was practically scalding, but it was good.

It occurred to her, then, how well Elijah and Jackson must know each other.

"What do you think Jackson will do if he can't go back to work as a police officer?" she asked.

"You worried about that?"

"Yeah." She gripped her cup, and it all but burnt her hands. "I know the job means a lot to him, and I can't see him handling that well. But you know him better than I do."

He met her gaze. "You know him better than you think. I don't think it'd go over well, either. But I don't think that's going to happen."

"No?"

He shook his head. "He's resilient. He got hurt, but people have recovered from worse. It might take him a while, but if anyone has the will it takes to make it through recovery and rehabilitation, it's him."

Relief crept into Belle's veins, a sweet anesthetic. Elijah knew Jackson better than anybody, and he was a police officer too. His opinion went a long way.

"I hope you're right."

"Me too." Elijah's expression was sober. "Listen, I'm gonna get in touch with Charleston PD so I can get a copy of the report on the incident at your office. I think we need to consider the possibility that someone may've been targeting you specifically, and that this is an escalation of that."

"I have no idea how someone would get into the office and my apartment without breaking in, unless they have professional-level, lock-picking skills."

"You never know. Why don't you talk to your landlord about installing a security cam? If not for your unit specifically, then in the parking lot? If it doesn't deter trespa.s.sers, it'll at least catch an image."

"That's a good idea, but I don't know what she'll say. It sounds expensive."

"If she won't go for it, you can always buy a camera and place it inside by the entryway. You know the kind people use to monitor their babysitters or pets while they're at work? You can get one for around a hundred bucks and watch the feed on your phone."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Just make sure you have a strong pa.s.sword and a secure network, because the feeds can be hacked. You wouldn't want someone else seeing inside your home."

The thought made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. "Thanks for the warning."

A knock came at the door and she jumped. The little bit of coffee left in her cup sloshed, nearly spilling.

"I'll get it," Elijah said.

"It's probably my landlord."

It was. Belle introduced her and Elijah, making it clear that he was a police officer and a friend. Then they changed the locks.

Of course, unless the intruder somehow had a key to her apartment, she didn't see how new locks would help.

Elijah had an on-duty officer come by and write a report on the intrusion, and then she was finally able to return to where she really wanted to be: the hospital.

CHAPTER 30.

"Why didn't you tell me?" For the first time in five days, Jackson sat on his own couch. He was propped up with pillows like an invalid, but it was better than being stuck in the hospital.

Belle sat beside him on the edge of a cushion. She wore a calm expression, as if she hadn't just dropped a bomb on him.

"I didn't want to stress you out while you were in the hospital. I asked Elijah not to mention it to you until after you were discharged, too."

He frowned. He was going to have a f.u.c.king talk with Elijah.

"Jesus, Belle, you could've been murdered. And you're still sleeping there?" Someone had been in her apartment during his first night at the hospital. The fact sat in his gut like a heavy, jagged stone.

"The locks have been changed."

"That doesn't mean they can't be picked. Sounds like that's probably how the intruder got in in the first place."

She bit her lip he could tell by the dent that appeared in the pink swell of her lower one. Her brows drew closer, too she was worried.

"My landlord had a security camera installed in the parking lot, and I set one up inside my apartment, too."

"Great. In all my years on the police force, I've never heard of a crime being committed in the presence of a camera." He rolled his eyes, then squeezed them shut. Why did everything have to go to s.h.i.t all at once?

Belle was being watched, or stalked, or whatever, and he was a f.u.c.king cripple.

They'd made him stay longer than he'd wanted to at the hospital, giving him antibiotics to prevent infection. He'd heal faster for it in the long run, they'd said.

He already felt a h.e.l.l of a lot better than he had after the surgery, but he had to use crutches to get around and he moved at the speed of mola.s.ses. Navigating his apartment was a pain in the a.s.s, or rather, the thigh.

"What am I supposed to do," she asked, "a.s.sume a false ident.i.ty and flee the country?"

"For starters, you should've told me." He couldn't believe she and Elijah had conspired to keep what'd happened secret from him. Yeah, his leg was hurt, but did they think he was so mentally feeble that he couldn't handle knowing?

"What could you have done about it, Jackson?"

Her words. .h.i.t him like a punch to the gut, and he struggled not to let that show on his face.

He failed. He could feel his brows drawing together, carving lines across his forehead.

"I could've asked someone at the department to make sure your street was patrolled," he said, though it wasn't enough. He wanted to be the one to make sure she was safe it was too important to trust to someone else.

No matter how good a cop they might be, no one else cared as much about her safety as he did.

"Elijah did that."

A mixture of relief and agitation swept through him. The important thing was that it had been done. Still, he should've been the one to do it.

Best friends or not, he wished he had two good legs so he could kick Elijah's a.s.s. Keeping the secret had broken just about every unwritten rule there was between officers, and between friends.

"I'm sorry you're upset," she said, "but your wellbeing was my top priority. I wasn't going to do anything that might've jeopardized that."

"And you think your wellbeing isn't my top priority?" He held her gaze, searching for some sign that she realized how ridiculous her stance was.

"I think you need to focus on your recovery."

"Believe it or not, I can worry about two things at once."

That little dent reappeared in her bottom lip, and her eyes seemed to get a shade darker.

He took one of her hands in his. It felt good to be able to move without an IV tying him down.

"Don't keep any more secrets from me, Belle. I'm a grown man and a police officer, for f.u.c.k's sake. Having a couple holes in my leg doesn't make me a child or an idiot. If you're in danger, I need to know there's nothing more important to me."

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, and she held his hand a little tighter. "No more secrets. And you're important to me too I hope you realize that's why I waited until now to tell you what was going on."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. As long as she wasn't going to keep anything else like this hidden from him, they were good.

Not that it didn't grate that she hadn't told him in the first place. It was bad enough knowing that he couldn't protect her like he wanted to. Knowing that she felt the same way that she'd turned to someone else without even bothering to tell him what was going on dealt a wrecking-ball-sized blow to his pride.

Every time he looked at her, he got a tight feeling in his chest. Whatever kind of shape his heart was in, it was overflowing with what he felt for her.

And she thought he was too weak to even talk to.

Belle monitored the feed on her camera religiously, which was possibly the most boring task of all time. Unlike other people who used the technology to supervise babysitters or pets, she had nothing to look at but her empty entryway and locked front door. A week went by without incident.

Maybe the security camera outside really was deterring crime. She'd like to believe that, anyway. She constantly wondered who'd been in her apartment and why.

More than anything, though, she wondered about Jackson. There was no question that his injuries had him down, and she hated the thought of him sitting alone at home for hours while she and Elijah were both at work. She visited him every evening, her heart aching for the day he'd be able to get out and do things again without pain.

The doctors were optimistic about his long-term prognosis, and so was she. He was young, strong and otherwise healthy. There were no signs of infection, and he'd been shot with a .22 magnum a handgun on the shallower end of the power range.

Belle thanked whatever powers that were for that every day.

Still, she couldn't call Jackson lucky. Not when he'd come home from so many other shifts unscathed. Her heart ached every time she saw him frown as he popped a pain pill, swallowing it as if it were a.r.s.enic.

It was plain to see that his fierce independence made him loath to rely on the crutches and pills. He'd told her he felt like a human sloth, lying on the couch or in bed all day with his leg propped up to keep the swelling down.

The shining veneer of easygoing fun and sizzling s.e.x that'd coated the beginning of their relationship was gone. She didn't feel any differently about him, though.