Page 26 of Protect Me
Vinita:Is it Tim? It’s Tim isn’t it. They called you to notify you.
With a ragged sigh, I wrote back.
Katelyn:He will be released next week.
A stream of curse words followed without spaces.
Vikram frowned, oblivious to our text message discussion. “That sucks you were evicted, and we’ll get back to that in just a moment, but there must be something else. Your panic attack was last week. Sounds like your landlord just dropped that bomb tonight. So what’s up? What are you hiding?”
Too late, I realized my mistake. Vikram’s tenacity was legendary. Fortunately, I wasn’t the wilting flower he grew up with anymore.
Still . . . did he have to comprehend things so quickly?
His question was a bold one considering we barely knew each other—at least as adults. I’d waltzed into his life a few weeks ago, and now he barged into mine like a beautiful, avenging god.
“I’m going to call Vinita.” I held up my phone. “First priority, always.”
He reached over, plucked the phone from my hand, and set it on the counter next to me. I could still reach it, but knowing he had the audacity to take it from me forced me to pause. My mouth dropped open.
He lay the full power of those dark eyes on me.
“Kate, do you need help?”
Grit carried me through years of mostly-unstable living with my mother, then my aunt. Aunt Trina’s rotating boyfriends, each more troublesome and drug-addled than the rest, wreaked havoc on my life and safety. Grit salvaged me back together when Trina kicked me out of the house at sixteen. Grit rushed me into the arms of Vinita’s family around the street, where I worked to pay for my own car, my own gas, but still lived on their hospitality and love.
The same grit escorted me through the worst experience of my life five years ago. It had never failed me, not once.
Said grit absolutely crumbled now.
With Vikram right in front of me, dreams from my youth weakened my resolve. On the scariest nights at Trina’s, with music thumping and druggies looking for a room to take another hit, and Trina’s screeching laughter above all of it, I’d hide in my closet, screw my eyes shut, and think of Vikram.
His arms around me.
His fingers patting down my hair, telling me everything was fine. I was safe, loved, and not alone. The daydreams distracted me then, little more than vague shadows. Tendrils of promises. Now, they served as a reminder to just how little Vik and I knew each other, despite spending much of my life near him.
The power of that history was the only thing that gave me the courage to whisper, “Yes. I need help.”
His expression relaxed.
“Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m here to give it.”
We sat at my table over cups of tea.
He chose a mellow chamomile.
I chose spicy, bold chai.
They both felt like a lie.
My fingers fidgeted with the tea bag, plunking it up and down, as I explained what Teddy said. Vikram leaned back in his chair, leg propped on another chair, with casual ease. A tendril of hair escaped his ponytail, near his temple. I watched it instead of his eyes to keep my courage.
“Not sure how much you know about the housing market here,” I murmured, “but there aren’t a lot of safe options for me to rent.”
He made a sound like a grunt, accompanied by a nod. I had a sip of the now-lukewarm tea—his was almost gone—and didn’t even taste the cinnamon as it rushed over my tongue.
When he said nothing, I babbled to fill the silence.
“I’m not sure if the Frolicking Moose is rented out, so I think I’ll try there first. It’ll buy me some time. Maybe.”
