Page 52 of Protect Me
Not of anyone.
“Dammit,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.
The thought ofanyidiot getting their hands on Katelyn. Sweet Katelyn, who had never hurt a single spider or . . .
I shoved back to my feet, ignoring the twinge of pain in my knee.
“Get it together, Vik,” I sang. “Get. It. Together.”
The creak of the bathroom door brought me out of a livid spiral and back into the moment. Though Kate insisted she could drive home, neither Dahlia nor I thought it was a good idea. Her shift was over anyway, so I brought her back. Kate beelined for the shower and had been in there for the last fifteen minutes.
I sucked in a sharp breath and let it out in one long blow. The sound of her padding down the hall, toward her bedroom, bought me a few moments to get my coiled tension back under control.
I stood in the kitchen, gripped the counter, and closed my eyes.
Vini.
I needed Vini.
Time passed, but I wasn’t sure how long. Too lost in my thoughts to make sense of it. Eventually, Katelyn’s quiet voice startled the creeping edge of darkness that threatened to drown me.
“Vik?”
I straightened with a little smile. “Hey. Feel better?”
My heart knotted in my chest. Her wet hair lay on her shoulders, darker from the moisture. All evidence of makeup had been scrubbed off her face, but her eyes were still red and swollen from crying. I recalled the shape of her in my arms when she pressed herself into my chest and wanted to kill something all over again.
She managed a smile. “Yeah, thanks. I—“
“Don’t apologize.” I held up a hand, affecting a casual shrug. “We all have bad days.”
Her face twisted, as if she were trying to decide something. Her mouth parted, lips frozen, before she finally nodded. Relief filled her features.
“Thanks.”
More hung behind the word than the obvious. I reached for the handle to the microwave.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Dal? With yogurt afterward, of course.”
She laughed a little. “Dal heals all wounds.”
I almost winced, but acted as if I hadn’t heard the lingering history in her words. The thinly-veiled pain. Kate’s presence loosened the building fire inside me. At this rate, I’d at least make it through the next hour before exploding.
Relief replaced her uncertainty. She advanced farther into the room, dressed in a casual pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. No glasses interrupted her expression, leaving it clear as crystal.
“Can I help?”
I set her plate on the table. “Go for it, lady.”
Her breath hitched slightly, and I realized too late that Appa’s favorite nickname for Amma had just slipped out. To smooth the moment over, I rummaged through the fridge as if I hadn’t said anything out of the normal.
In fact, I’d shocked myself.
Where the hell had that come from?
