Page 12 of Three More Shots
“Thank you.”
I stroke down her hair and kiss the top of her head, holding her tight while she trembles. “You’re welcome. Who was that asshole?”
“Our neighbor. He’s gotten angry at her before for being too loud, but I’ve never seen him this mad. I didn’t know what to do. If you hadn’t thrown him out…”
Her whisper dissolves into a shuddered breath. Both of us fucked up by what could have happened if I hadn’t shown up. Good thing we don’t have to worry about that anymore. Although, her definition ofthrown outprobably doesn’t match mine. “Is Ainsley okay?”
“Yes, I think so. The water calms her down. She might get upset later because it’s too much for her to process all at once, but for now, she’s okay.”
“What about you? Are you all right?”
In lieu of a real answer, she steps backward out of my embrace. Swiping at the tears on her cheeks with shaking hands, she gives me a phony smile when she looks up at me.
“Yes, of course. I’m fine. Can I offer you something? A drink?”
Ironic how she responds to worry over Ainsley, but when it comes to her — her safety, her feelings, her needs — she brushes me off as easily as the droplets on her scarlet skin.
“Sure, thanks.”
Relief appeases some of her worry, grateful to have something to do, something to keep her busy. She races to the sink and washes her hands like she’s prepping for surgery before she takes down a glass. Using a stainless steel scoop, she shovels ice cubes out of a white refrigerator with more rust than paint, and returns to the faucet to fill the cup. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen anyone drink tap water. But even an asshole likes me knows better than comment or I would crush her. “Thank you.”
I take a long swallow, and she seems satisfied that she’s a good hostess. That I’m happy. Which I am, being with her. Very much. But not here in this hell hole. I need to get her out of this dump.
When I step closer, she steps back. Fuck me. I just held her and soothed her, and now she’s skittish again. “Why are you so nervous? Do I still frighten you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what? And the truth this time. Don’t try to be polite about it.”
She looks around the space, her gaze lingering on the curtains I closed. Probably wondering why they’re shut now.
“I’m embarrassed for you to see where I live. I mean the neighborhood isn’t very nice, and Tank…” She shakes her head, pushing out the memory of the bastard. “I try very hard to keep it clean, but the place has seen better days, so it’s difficult…”
Shame steals her words, and somehow, her resiliency makes me admire her even more. I take the opportunity to delve into my plans for her—for them—since she’s brought up the subject. “Then let’s get you into a place you don’t have to be embarrassed about.”
Her shrug is pitiful yet also accepting of her fate. “This is all I can afford.”
Because she’s doing it all by her fucking self. Not anymore. “I want to help you. I want to keep you and Ainsley safe.”
Her arms squeeze tighter around her gaunt body, and she looks to the side at the holes in the baseboard from who the hell knows what caused them. Unwilling to meet my gaze.
“Thank you, but I can’t let you do that. Anyway, it’s fine.”
There’s a firmness to her voice that I respect but don’t like. “It’s not fucking fine. What would have happened if I hadn’t gotten here when I did?”
She shudders from the reminder. Now I’m the one being an asshole for upsetting her again, but I don’t care, not when she has to hear this. She needs to understand I can help her and I will. I step closer and rub my hands down her freezing arms, consoling her while simultaneously antagonizing her. “What would have happened?”
“He would’ve hurt us.” Only a whisper aimed toward my shoes. “But that doesn’t change that I can’t leave.”
“Stop being so stubborn. Accepting help doesn’t make you weak or a bad mom.”
“It’s more than that.” She sounds angry, but there’s no heat behind her words. It’s not in her to really get mad. She’s incapable of that kind of fury – too patient and kind to lose her temper completely. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
A long breath precedes her nod. “This is all she knows. She’s on a schedule. She has a routine. Any deviation, any change will freak her out, and she’ll have a meltdown. I can’t just up and move her to a new home.”
I’m way out of my element here, but I can learn. “Okay, she has a meltdown. We can deal with it.”
