Page 80 of Protect Me
Talk about power.
Far too much power.
And strength.
Courage.
Power.
Whoops, back to that word again.
A basket of laundry spilled onto the couch when I dumped it out, my mind far from home. Wait, no. This wasn’t my home. This was Vik’s home. Yet, that didn’t feel right either. Somehow in the intervening months, it had begun to feel likemyhome. Which wasn’t far off, considering how much time I’d spent with his family over the years.
With a violent sigh, I snatched a towel off the top of the pile and folded it into half, then fourths. I eyed the clock. Vik would be home soon. Our shifts ended within thirty minutes of each other, so I’d come right home to wait for him. His concern for my life with Timothy on the loose had been so sweet. Reassuring.
With Vikram, I trulywasn’talone.
Frankly, I feared Timothy less than Vik these days. Vik tromped around with my heart and didn’t even realize it. I shook my head.
No, that wasn’t entirely true either.
After our surprise kiss, he must knowhe had it. The question was what he’d do with it by the end. He’d made no move, and neither had I. Either both of us held reservations we hadn’t settled, or neither of us wanted to move forward. He’d been unusually quiet—and touchy—after the BBQ, but I couldn’t peg why.
By the time I finished folding and replacing the laundry, the jittery feeling under my skin had subsided. I glanced out the back window, to the mountain vista’s beyond, and gave into a little smile.
The BBQ had been a riot. Not only were Dagny and Dahlia two of my favorite women in Pineville, but they’d made me feel so at home. Like I really did belong with them, though Vik wasn’t mine. He stood at my side often. His gaze found mine to check in with silent questions. Every now and then, he’d touch the small of my back, murmur something low. But I still held no official claim. He hedged his bets, drew closer, but said nothing concrete.
Watching Dagny and Hernandez dance around each other, eyes bright with affection, activated something scarred inside. A longing I hadn’t truly let myself acknowledge in years. No, I’d been so wrapped up in rules and fears and control that I hadn’t see how rigid the structure of my life had become.
I sank to the couch, phone in hand, but didn’t see the screen. My thoughts drifted back to when I first saw Vikram months ago. Those rules had formed rigid walls in my brain, creating safety. Now, I had to step back and ask if they reallydidcreate safety.
In some regard, yes.
In others . . . no.
Wasn’t it all just an illusion, anyway?
I set my phone aside, tilted my head back, and closed my eyes. Vikram gave me far too much introspection these days. The urge to call Vini and talk it out with her swept through me, but I shoved it aside. No, she didn’t need the drama of the back-and-forth between me and her brother. We walked precarious ledges. She’d be too tempted to call her brother and smack him upside the head.
She’d certainly done it before.
Sleep stole over me as I crept deeper into my thoughts. With a little breath, I curled into a ball to escape the air conditioning, tucked my head against the couch, and let it take me away.
A high-pitched sound woke me hours later.
I startled awake with a gasp. Night had fallen, coating the room in shadows. Outside, lights winked near the reservoir. Fires in campgrounds, mostly, though some ambient illumination from cabins dotted the far mountainscape.
I pushed up.
What was that noise?
The irritating sound came from near my left thigh. With a groan, I grabbed my ringing phone and answered.
“‘Lo?”
Vikram’s frantic voice issued next. “Kate?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I was . . . asleep.”
