The tension in the small space eased, but Hoyt didn't move. He stayed right where he was, a solid, warm presence blocking her path to the door.
"Can we go now?" Jordyn asked, her voice still a little shaky. She was eager to escape the confines of the closet, the overwhelming proximity to him.
Hoyt shook his head slowly, his expression cautious. "Not yet. Gus isn't the type to give up easily. He might be waiting just out of sight."
I'm not letting you go that easily, he thought, his gaze sweeping over her face. Not when I finally have you exactly where I want you.
He softened his voice, letting a hint of warmth creep in. "Don't worry. You're safe here."
His voice was like a balm, smoothing over the raw edges of her panic. Jordyn felt herself nodding, her body unconsciously leaning a little closer to him.
Safe. It was a word she rarely felt. In the Shepard house, safety was an illusion, a thin veneer over a cauldron of criticism and control. But here, in this dark, dusty closet, with this man standing guard, she felt it.
She let out a shaky breath, her shoulders dropping. The rigid fear that had been holding her upright melted away, leaving her feeling soft and pliable.
Hoyt watched the transformation with a hungry satisfaction. She was relaxing. She was letting him in. She was becoming his.
That's it, he thought, a dark thrill curling in his chest. Get used to me. Depend on me. Learn that you can't breathe without me.
He decided to push a little further. "How is Carleigh?" he asked, his tone conversational. "Is she still stressing over her senior showcase?"
The question caught Jordyn off guard. It was so normal, so mundane, compared to the life-or-death situation they had just been in. But it worked. It grounded her.
"She is," Jordyn said, a small smile touching her lips despite herself. "She changed her theme three times last week."
Hoyt listened as she talked about her best friend. He nodded at the right moments, asked the right questions, his eyes never leaving her face. He gave her his complete, undivided attention.
It was a heady feeling. Jordyn wasn't used to being listened to. She was used to being talked at, lectured, dismissed. But Hoyt made her feel like her words mattered. Like she mattered.
The minutes slipped by. The fear faded, replaced by a strange, comfortable intimacy. Jordyn forgot about the guards outside. She forgot about the cold wall at her back. She was lost in the sound of his voice, the warmth of his presence.
Seven years I watched you from a distance, Hoyt thought, his gaze tracing the curve of her cheek. Seven years I waited. And now you're finally here, talking to me like I'm the only man in the world.
He let the silence stretch for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of her dependence. Then he glanced at his watch, a subtle movement that broke the spell.
"I think the coast is clear," he said, his voice regretful. "They've probably moved on to the other terminals."
Jordyn blinked, startled. She looked around, as if she had forgotten where they were. A flush crept up her neck as she realized how long they had been standing there, how close they still were.
"I'm so sorry," she stammered, pushing herself away from the wall. "I didn't mean to keep you. I'm sure you have important things to do."
"Mr. Dav-" she caught herself, the old habit dying hard. "Hoyt. I'm sorry."
He smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Don't apologize."
He took a step back, finally giving her the space she had been craving. But as the cool air rushed in between them, Jordyn felt a sudden, sharp pang of disappointment. A foolish, irrational wish that he hadn't moved at all.
