Page 13 of Protect Me
This Katelyn had more of a spine.
Still a ghost, though.
“Besides,” Vini continued, “you’re practically her brother. And,” she tacked on quietly, “it’s good for her, too.”
Whatever that meant. The shower and this call had already worn me out. Time for nap number 4,567. My body trembled a little—chills—as I leaned forward to rest my left elbow on my good knee. Grief, but I was weak as a baby. Could barely hold my phone.
“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” I said. “Thanks for sending her.”
“Be nice,” she growled.
“I am.”
“Love you, Vik.”
“You, too.”
My phone turned dark as I set it down. If it wouldn’t have hurt so much, I would have laid my head down on the table and fallen right to sleep. Instead, I slowly made my way back into the living room.
After taking my next round of antibiotics, avoiding the narcotics and going for the anti-inflammatories, I had a cracker, lowered onto the couch, chugged a water bottle, and fell back into a deep sleep with Vinita’s words ringing restlessly through my mind.
You’re practically her brother.
Darkness woke me.
My eyes flew open and I sucked in a sharp breath, startled by the drastic change in scenery. I’d fallen asleep in the middle of the day. A blanket of black lay on the apartment, punctuated only by the gentle illumination of a few kitchen appliances. The clock on the wall betrayed the hour.
3:30 am.
Startled, I straightened. The fever I’d fallen asleep with had subsided, leaving me clammy. Some of the throbbing pain in my knee left mild irritation behind. Twinges of pain moved through my hips, sore from so little activity. By no means comfortable, but not so damn intense.
What daywas it?
Memory served. Katelyn. Vinita. Had that been sometime around three in the afternoon? I couldn’t remember.
A gentle breath, and a stir of sound, whipped my head to the right.
Through the shadows, I could just make out a lithe feminine form on the couch across from me. Blonde hair brightened the arm rest, draped over the edge and trailing down. Katelyn. She’d curled around a pillow, face slack in sleep. A blanket covered her shoulder, her wide, black glasses askew on her face.
I ran a hand over my cheek, recalling most of yesterday through a haze. A blanket dropped onto my lap when I moved. She must have covered me up. Was she worried? Guilt rushed through me as I remembered.
I’d sort of been a jerk.
A rummy, hopped-up-on-meds-and-fever jerk.
Slowly, I stood. The rush of dizziness didn’t come, only a mild twinge of pain. I straightened, grateful to move. Katelyn didn’t stir as I slipped by to relieve my aching bladder. By the time I came out of the bathroom, she hadn’t moved.
The thought of her being in my apartment for twelve hours while I slept, totally unaware, should have disturbed me. Had it been anyone but Katelyn, I would have been royally pissed, but Katelyn was too unobtrusive.
I grabbed another water bottle from the fridge. Light cut into the darkness, brightening the kitchen. My hand paused halfway there.
She’d restocked everything.
Milk. Eggs. Veggies. All the ingredients for pulav. Next to the fridge lay a package—dosa mix. She must keep it stocked at her place, because Pineville didn’t have any here. In a glass bowl on the top shelf waited cut up fruit with all my favorite melons. Honeydew, cantaloupe, watermelon. My mouth watered. Appetite returned for the first time.
Not a ghost, I realized.
An angel.
