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I hesitated at the open door, my chin dropping to my shoulder so I could look back at Brady. My gaze swept over the handsome man still standing right where I’d left him, his fists shoved deep into his pockets. “Thank you”—I swallowed hard, need and frustration battling in my gut—“…Brady.”
The smile he gave me right then was enough to light up my darkest worries for weeks. Tucking it in close to my heart, I fled Leden.
***
Chapter 7
Three weeks later
“Are you in here? Cici?” Ashlyn’s voice slipped through my mind as I curled up tighter in a ball on Dad’s old couch.
Clutching one of his infamous quilts tighter, I burrowed my face against the worn cushions.
“I’m here,” I said, but only a whisper came out. I was too afraid to raise my voice, or really do much of anything. I’d only moved a few inches since I’d arrived at Grove Communications, and I’d regretted every single one of them.
I closed my eyes, willing Ashlyn to come back here and find me without any further action on my part.
My wish must’ve come true, because my door was flung open wide and my niece came hurrying across the office. Her sensible black flats made sweet little pitter pats across my floor, halting near where I’d burrowed in. “Cici! What’s going on?”
“Karma.” I tried to sit up to talk to her but stopped halfway. My stomach lurched about dangerously. I moaned, covering my mouth again.
“What does that mean? Who’s Karma?” Ashlyn’s voice was confused.
“I stole his food.”
Ashlyn kneeled a few feet from me; I heard her shuffle closer. “Cici, you’re not making any sense.”
I groaned, tucking my arms tighter around my body. “I stole Peter’s food. From the fridge.”
Ashlyn’s jaw dropped. “Oh God, why would you do that? Who knows when he put that in there? It could’ve been weeks.”
“It smelled good.”
“Bet it doesn’t now.”
I glared at my niece. “Are you making fun of a sick person right now?”
Ashlyn’s face fell at my rough voice. “Wow, you really are sick, aren’t you? Do we need to take you to the ER or anything?”
“No, not unless they have a magical cure for food poisoning.” Nervously, I shifted a bit more onto my side.
“Not that I’ve heard of.”
“Well then, fuck that. I’m staying right here until this whole thing is over. Which will probably never be.”
Ashlyn bit her lip, watching me. I could feel the worry thickening the air between us.
“Ash, it’s just an ancient sandwich. I’ll be fine as soon as”—I gesture a little in the air—“everything, you know, passes.”
She grimaced. “That sounds awful.”
“Karma,” I said again, feeling my eyelids droop.
“Okay, you get some rest. I’ll chat with Peter and Luna about getting your appointments moved.”
I nodded. My stomach protested the movement with a nauseating clench that made me eye the distance between the small bathroom across the hall and me. I slapped my hand over my mouth, fighting bile and reflexes as I tried to calm down again.
Ashlyn covered me with one of the lightweight blankets from the basket near the end and then retreated to the door. As my stomach cramped again, I clenched my eyelids shut and prayed for sleep. Or for any kind of reprieve from the waves of pain rippling up my body.
