Page 25 of Protect Me
“Vinita,” I said, and couldn’t help the way it sounded like an accusation. “She’s worried. You told her that I had a panic attack so she sent you over here with my address to check on me.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“Uh, yeah.”
His gaze dropped and he cleared his throat. He could swim in that guilt until his toes looked like prunes for all I cared.
He called Vinita!
I ran a hand over my face, grateful for the surge of annoyance. Like a rising tide, it carried me past the trepidation over Timothy and needing to find a new place and . . .
“Okay,” I finally said when I couldn’t take the unapologetic quiet any further. His eternally brown eyes had a touch of guilt to them. “So we’re going to have to deal with Vinita first. I’m assuming she’s waiting for me to call back.”
I began to pace, shaking my head as I mentally sifted through my options. Words were important here. Vinita read into every tone and nuance. Now that she was pregnant and not working in the office as much, she had the time to dissect each stinking syllable—and she would.
“That’s not first,” Vikram countered. “First: are you okay?”
His voice rolled all the way through me with a shiver. I turned away.
No.
Definitely not okay.
But notnotokay, even though that didn’t make sense.
I forced myself to meet his gaze.
“Just a run of a few bad days. I’ll figure it out. It’ll . . . it’ll pass. Andyes,” I snapped, “that is the first step. My house, my rules.”
Except it wasn’t my house. Not anymore.
“What are you figuring out?”
I acted like I hadn’t heard the question as I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket. A new text message waited from Kinoshi, my local attorney. My stomach clenched. What impeccable timing. I ignored it for later.
No doubt it was a response to my panicked email about placing a restraining order against Timothy, and Kinoshi’s opinion on whether I had time to legally change my name. Hair color was easy enough, though I loved being blonde . . .
I’d do it in a heartbeat.
Anything for safety.
“Kate,” he drawled. “Are you okay?”
I realized too late that I’d fallen into thought. I shook myself out of it.
Vikram cocked an eyebrow to punctuate the question, then tilted his head. His deeper perusal made my shoulders clench. I knew what that ticking jaw meant. The brewing trouble in his gaze, hidden behind what looked like amusement, but was actually calculation.
For a moment, I wondered if Icouldtell Vikram the whole, hideous truth, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.
No.
Fortunately, I had a new problem.
“My landlord just delivered some unexpected news. I have seven days to get my stuff and find a new place. He only gave me a week's notice.”
A frustrated raspberry escaped me. Vinita had texted me thirteen times. Thirteen. Her record was thirty-four, but that happened a few months after the assault when my phone had accidentally been turned off. I hadn’t seen them, so I didn’t respond. She panicked for hours.
The very last text sent a shot of weariness through me.
