Abraham pushes up from his chair with a huff and steps until he’s hovering over me. “Why don’t you find us something to watch, and I’ll bring up lunch and snacks.”
I swallow loudly and nod, not trusting myself with words. And also, just really hoping to get him out of my space. But as he grabs the tray of stuff, he brushes against me, though I’m quite certain it isn’t an accident.
It’s not until he descends the stairs that I feel I can breathe again. With the remote in hand, I find a fantasy adventure movie I’ve seen a dozen times, so I know there’s zero romance in it.
When Abraham returns, he lays out the sandwiches, fruit, and fresh tomatoes on the table and plops down on the couch next to me. He’s so close his thigh presses against mine. I want to slide away from him, but also don’t want to draw attention to it and make this worse.
I manage to finish lunch and only part of the movie before my eyes grow too heavy and I’m out like a light. I dream of Adriel hunkering down for the storm, hoping he’s safe. Also, knowing he’s somewhere in the aether since it’s daytime.
A click and silence falls over the apartment, and I shoot awake, realizing I fell asleep on Abraham’s shoulder. Blinking rapidly, I look around to see the TV off and turn to find Abraham placing his book down on his lap.
“Power went off,” I say, as if he’s blind and hasn’t realized it.
“How did you realize so quickly?” he asks, chuckling lightly.
“I heard the fan stop.” One brow quirks up high on his forehead. “I thought that was routine for all Southerners.”
Abraham shrugs lightly. “Perhaps I’m not as accustomed to them as you.”
My eyes narrow in on him; he’s not old enough to be implying living without a fan. It’s summer.
Grabbing one of the books from the table that Abraham picked out, I move to the chair near the window as if to watch the wind and rain. Honestly, I’m putting space between us. I don’t even realize how engrossed in the story I become before Abraham is standing over me.
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
“I asked if you wanted something to drink.” He holds out a bottle of water, and I take it gratefully. But his hold lingers, forcing our hands to touch. And then his presence stays nearby until I drink it and thank him.
By dinnertime the power is back on, and he’s downstairs making food. I glance outside to see that the worst of the weatherhas passed. I have to get the fuck out of here and back to Adriel. But mostly I just need to get the fuck out of here.
Chapter 29
Rami's POV
Iwait until nightfall to slip out of Abraham’s backdoor after a quick, “Thanks for everything.” My visit was already awkward as fuck, so there’s no point in lingering with a painful goodbye. Plus, I must appease the insatiable urge to return to Adriel.
Cinching down on the straps of my backpack, I hoist my knapsack over my shoulder and stick to the back roads and alleys through town. Based on the downed trees and many branches littering downtown, I can’t even imagine how bad Adriel’s territory looks.
It’s only three more blocks and I’ll be able to duck into the woods. Almost to Adriel.
A siren precedes flashing red and blue lights, forcing me to halt in my tracks.
Shit.
I could run, but I’m not guilty of anything aside from demanding my freedom. They can’t actually do anything to me.
“Rami Lawrence,” a deep voice calls out. I turn slowly to see the behemoth of a cop dressed in shades of brown stepping out of his cruiser. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”
“Am I under arrest?” I sass, refusing to soften my stance. One can never be too cautious.
“No, but the sheriff insists on having a word with you.”
“I know my rights,” I snap. There was no way I was going to end up in this mess again. I learned the hard way what questions to ask and demands to make sure my rights weren’t stripped.
“Then you also know that if I use excessive force to bring you in, no one will doubt my claim that you attempted to fight back.”
My jaw drops and I want to test that claim, but know he’s right. No one has believed anything I’ve said thus far. Why would they believe me over this meathead?
“Fine,” I grumble. “But you get to carry my shit like a good little chauffeur.” I toss my knapsack and bookbag at him just before I slide into the open back door.
