Page 35 of Crossroads of Betrayal
“How can you be a friend to them if you don’t open up? Damnit, Grace, why shut yourself off to good people who obviously care about you? Why shut yourself off to me? Then treat me like a dirty little secret you’ve shoved and locked in a closet?”
Exhaustion weighed her down and a sharp ache pulsed against her forehead. She had so much to say—to explain—but with zero ambition to actually say it. At least not now, laying in a hospital bed.
A knock sounded at the door, and Cruz stepped in the room. “Sorry to interrupt. How are you feeling?”
Talk about a loaded question. She’d pushed every emotion down for so long that now an explosion of feelings left her shaky and unsteady in the world she’d built for herself. But that’s not what Cruz had meant, and definitely not what she wanted to focus on right now. “I’m fine.”
“You up for giving your statement?”
She nodded, grateful for the interruption from Zeke and his sad eyes.
Zeke cleared his throat. “I’ll wait in the hall while you two talk.” Without another word, he walked away.
She watched him go and her heart lurched. Their conversation was far from over, and when they finally hashed everything out, the outcome might hurt even worse than being hit by a truck.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Zeke struggled to unlock Grace’s front door as he carried her personal belongings that Brooke had brought to the hospital.
Grace stood on the small porch with crutches propped under her armpits and fatigue weighing down every line of her face. “You’ve got to jiggle the key a little bit.”
He did as instructed and the lock clicked before he pushed open the door. Flipping on the light, he placed her belongings on a narrow table in the entryway.
Grace hopped in behind him. The bottom of her crutch snagged against the lip of the doorway, and she stumbled forward.
With arms outstretched, he caught her before she spilled onto the floor. He secured one arm around her waist and gently gripped the crook of her arm. “I’ve got you.”
Her arms circled his neck, and she yelped before gritting her teeth. “Darn crutches.”
He righted her on her feet before closing the door. “Why don’t you lean on me instead. At least for right now. I’ll get you to the couch so you can catch your breath, then you can work on mastering the crutches a little later.”
She scrunched her nose but kept one arm looped around his neck as she accepted his assistance and walked slowly over the wood floors to the living room.
The feel of her body against his spiked his blood pressure. He kept his focus on their slow progress across the room, not needing the extra burden of sexual tension vibrating through his limbs. He took in the cluster of discarded shoes by the sliding door that led to the back deck and the smattering of dirty dishes left in the sink.
“I shouldn’t be surprised your place is a mess,” he teased as he helped lower her to the couch, trying to lighten the heavy energy in the room.
She rolled her eyes. “People are who they are.”
“Not always. Sometimes they can change, while other times they refuse to let people see who they really are.” He suspected it was a combination of the two that had brought Grace to where she was today, but they’d get to that later.
Once she was settled, he grabbed a blue and white striped throw pillow. “The doctor said to keep your leg propped to help the bruising on your hip heal. Do you want this on the coffee table or the other end of the couch?”
“Coffee table is fine.”
He placed the pillow on the table then waited for her to shift around and get comfortable before taking a seat beside her. “Are you hungry? Is there anything I can get you?”
A loud howl drew his attention to the attached kitchen. A tan and black striped tiger cat sat beside an empty bowl of food.
“No way I could eat a thing, but Annie sounds like she’s hungry. Do you mind feeding her?”
He wiped his palms on his thighs then stood. First, he’d planned to take care of a dog during his time here, and now a cat. Maybe his stay at the retreat was just to show him he needed a damn pet. “Sure.”
“There’s a little container of food in the cabinet next to her dishes.”
He ignored the clutter of mail and papers on the island that separated the living room from the kitchen.
The cat—Annie—rushed toward him, rubbing against his legs. A loud purr echoed from her furry little body.
