Page 66 of Hold Him Like Gravity

So I did just that.

Then I put myself back together as best I could—ignoring the ache in my chest that said one part of me might be too shattered to be whole again—and went back to work.

Rico was called off to some other business later that evening, leaving me free to follow through with my plans to go check out the areas I had on my map. Though I had to admit that there was some small part of me that was disappointed not to have Rico show up when I was leaving, ready to walk me home, to spend more time with me.

Luckily for me, hanging out on the streets in the freezing cold was miserable enough to chase away the other kinds of pain I might have been feeling if I’d been obsessing about the situation with Rico.

I stayed out late enough to be reasonably sure that the two convenience stores weren’t ones that Kyle was frequenting. I’d even flashed a picture around at the employees to double-check.

As much as it would have been nice to find him on the first night looking, I’d known going in that it wasn’t realistic to believe that would happen.

So I made my way home, telling myself that any progress was something to be happy about. Eventually, I would have hit all of the bodegas in that area. I’d see Kyle. I’d follow him at a safe distance. See where he went. Then, when there was no activity there, go snooping around.

A week or two, that was all I needed.

Even if my stomach twisted at the idea of my brother being in that basement for that long.

That amount of time would also make it so that Kyle started to trust me, to believe I was just going along with the plan, that I wasn’t trying to fight back against him.

After all, Kyle was used to me doing that.

Submitting.

Obeying.

It would be natural for him to think I’d fallen into old patterns.

But I wasn’t the woman I’d been when I was living under his thumb. Everything about me screamed to rebel, to fight. To the death, if necessary. I’d done it before—or so I thought—and I could do it again.

Everything about my new life was fighting against who I used to be. Wearing the things I liked, not what Kyle approved of. Putting on makeup. Dyeing my hair an unnatural color. Standing up for myself. Even just with handsy customers at work.

The trick was retaining my new strength while outwardly appearing like my old, more timid, self.

I was two feet inside my apartment when there was a knock.

My heartbeat punched against my ribcage and my stomach turned upside down as I walked silently over to the door to look out of the peephole.

Then there he was.

Not Kyle, like I was dreading.

Rico.

I should have pretended like I wasn’t home, gone into my bedroom and fought the urge to invite him in.

But before I could even finish that thought, let alone find the resolve to carry through with it, my hand was lifting and I was sliding the chain, then the lock, and opening the door.

“Did I catch you before you made another of those god-awful frozen pizzas?” he asked as he stepped into my apartment, seeming comfortable inviting himself inside, being in my world.

“Ah, yeah, I, er, just got in from… running some errands. I haven’t even fed Evander yet,” I added.

As if on cue, something from the counter in the kitchen smashed onto the floor.

“Yeah, he’s got feelings about that,” Rico said, a little smirk toying with his lips as he walked over to greet the cat. “Let’s get you squared away so we can eat,” he told the cat as he went about getting his food and milk. “So,” he continued, looking over at where I was still kind of frozen a foot inside of the door. “Food?”

“I could eat,” I agreed, even if I knew I needed to keep my distance. I didn’t seem to have any defenses when it came to Rico.

“You feeling like going out or staying in?”

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