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I look at my feet. “Sorry. I was—I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Gram hesitates for only a second before her hand cups my cheek. Her skin is like paper crumpled too many times, soft and dry. I lean into the familiarity.
“No, I suppose you weren’t,” she says softly. “Are you okay, dear?”
I curl my hand over hers and squeeze. “I am now.”
A moment of understanding passes between us.
Gram was there the first time I experienced claustrophobia after I came to live with her, the first time I had a panic attack when I wasn’t in any immediate danger. We didn’t have money for a therapist, but she did her best to talk me through it. To help me avoid my triggers. She’s the reason I can stand being in a small shower or an elevator. Her patience and understanding made all the difference for me.
We never could tackle my fear of being in a car, though. For good reason.
That’s where it all began.
“So, Timofey called you?” I ask. “Or did Ashley?”
I hope it’s Ashley. I want Ashley to have been the one to call Gram. If she called, it means Timofey might not know where Gram lives. It means she might still be outside his range of influence. It gives me time to figure out how to protect her from—
“Is that your boss’s name?” Gram asks. “Timothy? Yes, he’s the one who called.”
Shit.I do my best to hide the dread pooling in my stomach.
Ashley leans against the counter. I see her sneaking glances at Akim as he cleans the kitchen like we don’t exist. “The reason we showed up together is because your grandma called me. She took the taxi to my place and then picked me up and brought me here. I would have driven, but—”
“Gas is too expensive right now for all that,” Gram offers kindly so Ashley doesn’t have to think up an excuse.
I squeeze Gram’s hand again. A silent thank you. She’s one of the few people I’ve confided in about Ashley’s issues and how much I want to help her. It’s not like Gram can really afford to be here, either, but she still tried to take care of Ashley on her way to take care of me.
That matters.
Overcome with gratitude that she’s standing in front of me, I pull Gram into another hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” Ashley clears her throat, and I smile back at her. “Bothof you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s nice your boss called us since you clearly weren’t going to.” Ashley picks up my fork and takes a bite of my leftover lunch. “Holy shit. This is incredible.”
Akim doesn’t say anything, but I see him smile as he loads the dishwasher.
God, how do I tell Ashley to stay far, far away from anyone inside the walls of this house without her doing the exact opposite?
I file that worry away for later perusal. One issue at a time.
“I can’t believe Timofey called you. I was going to, but—”
But my life is spiraling out of control and I’m trying to get my bearings and figure out if my new boss is going to kill me.
Can Timofey be so bad if he’s bringing my friends and family here to comfort me after a panic attack, though?
I’m hesitant to be grateful towards him, especially after I thanked him for freeing me from the jail cell he placed me in earlier. But I can’t help it. My heart has long since stopped listening to reason.
“Whatever. I’m just glad you’re both here.” I lead Gram to a barstool and wrap an arm around each of them. “Can I get you anything? A drink, or something?”
Ashley opens her mouth to respond, but instead of forming words, her jaw just hangs there. Her thin brows arch and a cross between a shocked exhale and a dreamy sigh wheezes out of her lungs. Her eyes are locked over my shoulder, and I know exactly what she is looking at.
Correction: I knowwhoshe is looking at.
Sure enough, when I turn around, I see Timofey sauntering into the kitchen. He’s undone the top two buttons of his shirt, giving the barest peek of his collarbone and dark chest hair. His hair is tousled from the motorcycle ride.
But that’s par for the course at this point. What’s weird is that, instead of his characteristic scowl, he’s smiling.
