Page 24 of Protect Me
A week ago, I’d drawn a fat black square around the day when Tim would be released. It loomed there, an ugly scar on white paper.
One week away.
Fan-freaking-tastic.
My heart nearly jumped out of her chest when a knock came on my door, followed by a tentative, “Katelyn?”
I sucked in a sharp breath.
Vikram?
I scrambled to my feet, shoved my hair out of my eyes, and jammed my glasses back on. I didn’t need them to see, I just loved to have them there. A barrier. Something to hide behind or have an excuse to get away from awkward situations. Like a superpower you used only when needed. I fumbled with the door knob as I pulled it open an inch and peered out.
My heart leapt in my throat.
Holy coconuts, itwasVikram.
The moment he saw me, his gaze tapered. “You all right?” he asked. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. His hair hung behind his back in a neat ponytail, out of the way. A hint of stubble graced his cheeks. I wanted to reach back, loosen the ponytail, and run my fingers through it.
Silk, I imagined.
“Hey,” I managed.
“Hey.” He frowned. “You don’t look so good.”
“Fine.” My attempt at a cheerful voice fell like a bomb. Why did this keep happening? Did he have radar for the worst moments of my life? “I’m good, thanks.”
His gaze darted around, then back to me.
“Can I come in?”
I hesitated. No, of course he couldn’t. The rules. They were there . . . no. They didn’t really apply to him, did they? The one man I felt safe with. That I would beg to stand closer simply because everything felt not so frightening with him at my side.
Hadn’t Vikram always been a rule bender? A rule breaker?
Yes. Always. Somehow, he’d also done it for me and my ironclad rules. With a reluctant nod, I opened the door. He didn’t take his studious gaze off of me as he stepped inside, crutches under his arm.
“Can you do stairs?”
He nodded. Silently, we ascended the stairs that led to my studio, which was even smaller than the loft above the Frolicking Moose. Definitely older. Shabby it might be, but that meant nothing against safety.
My mind raced in the short time that I had to figure out why he’d come. How did he know where I lived? Why was he here?
What was happening with the world’s juju these days?
As we stepped up the creaky old stairs—another perk because no one ever snuck up on me—the puzzle pieces came together. The only way Vikram could have known where to find me was his sister. No one at the Coffee Shop would give him my address, and I doubted Hernandez knew.
A flash of rage followed.
He must have called Vinita. Practically trembling with it, I pushed through the door at the top of the stairs. Light flooded the staircase behind me. I grabbed a jacket hanging off the back of a chair and wrapped it around me, stuffing my hands in the pockets.
When I spun around, Vik stood in the doorway. Instead of checking out the old room, he watched me.
Warily.
Heshouldbe on guard.
My jaw felt tight when I stopped and faced him fully. He closed the door behind him, eyes finally roving.
