Page 6 of Drifting Hearts
“Don’t tempt me.”
The door opened, revealing a short, slender woman with her mostly gray hair neatly piled on top of her head. She had an apron tied around her waist and flour on her cheek.
“You’re early.” She swung the door open wider. “Don’t stand there all day, come inside. You must be Clayton.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“I’m Patricia, and this is my house. There are currently two girls staying with me, and they’ve generously agreed to let you stay. I don’t think you’ll be any trouble, but there are rules,” she warned. “We’ve made you a room on the ground floor, just off the living room. You’re not to go upstairs.”
Patricia gave me a onceover, her expression softening. “Not that you’re able to. There’s a landline you can call out from, but you’re not to answer the phone or the door. The door uses a code and I change it every week. Don’t give the code to anyone. I also ask that you don’t bring any guests over. It’s for the safety and comfort of these women, you understand.”
“I understand.”
“You’re probably tired from the drive. Do you need help settling in?”
“No, ma’am.” At least I remembered my manners. It might have been another lifetime since I needed them, but they were still there under the tattoos and casts. Somewhere deeper in my bones, leftovers from a life I no longer had.
“Patricia is fine, dear. I don’t stand on ceremony around here. There’s a bathroom across the hall from your room. Kieran will show you where everything is. I have to check on my cookies.”
Without another word, Kieran wheeled me to the right. We passed through a bright living room with a big comfortable-looking couch. A television hung on the wall over a fake fireplace and potted plants filled one window. Some kind of plant hung in the corner of the room, but its tendrils trailed down like Rapunzel’s hair with even more shoots along the wall.
The room I was given allowed a queen-size bed comfortably. The curtains were all closed, but I hadn’t missed the bars on the windows when we’d pulled up. It made sense, though, if this was a place for women fleeing violent partners. It probably wasn’t supposed to make me feel safe too, but maybe for the first time since Sam’s guys forced their way into my apartment, I was able to take a deep breath.
I turned to thank Kieran, but he was already leaving the room. I had one shoe on my good foot and that I kicked off before standing on my one good leg. I pulled the blankets back then sat on the bed.
I was attempting to get my heavy leg up and into bed when Kieran came storming back in, towing a wheeled suitcase behind him. Seeing my struggle, he rolled his eyes, but abandoned the suitcase and hefted my leg into bed for me.
“Thanks.”
“It’s fine.” Kieran sounded less hostile now. Maybe he’d realized how useless and broken I was and understood that I didn’t pose a threat to any one, let alone a woman who looked like she could swing a mean rolling pin.
It didn’t sound fine, though, but I was too weary to worry about it. Besides, I probably wouldn’t see him again after today. Maybe in passing if he came to see his mom a lot.
Speaking of, she knocked on the open door and invited herself in, stepping around Kieran, who lingered, hovering behind his mother like a tall, dark, and handsome bodyguard.
“Did you need anything?” Patricia asked me.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Holler if you do. I’ll bring you something to eat after you’ve had a rest.” She turned and nearly crashed into Kieran. “Stop lurking and come to the kitchen with me. You might as well be my guinea pig and try the new recipe I found.”
Patricia pulled the door shut behind her. Her friendly chatter faded and I found myself straining to hear it. Being here reminded me of spending weekends during the summer at my aunt’s house. It had smelled of sunshine and dust motes, but Patricia’s house surrounded me with the scent of fresh baked cookies. It was a comforting smell. Like equal parts hope and home. For a few minutes, I pretended I could have either one of those things and then sleep took me.
I didn’t dream of anything, but I still woke up in a cold sweat with an aching bladder and pain through my whole body. I eyed my wheelchair and wondered how the hell I was supposed to navigate life with one arm and one leg, but I couldn’t lie in bed and feel sorry for myself. First I had to piss, then I had to figure out what the hell I was going to do next.
Forgoing the wheelchair, I made the short journey across the hall by hopping on one foot. I wobbled unsteadily and then decided it might be best if I sat down to do my business until I was more stable on my feet. By the time I was finished and hopped back across the hallway to my room, Kieran was there waiting for me with his usual stormy expression.
“Are you going to stand there and scowl at me the whole time I’m here?” Lowering myself into the chair, I let out a pained grunt. “You could save yourself a lot of trouble and just get a portrait printed of your scowling face and put it by my bedside so you can scowl at me in my sleep too.”
“Shane told me he confiscated your computer. Mom has an office just off the kitchen. Your first therapy appointment is tomorrow at ten am. Don’t miss it.”
Knowing I was without it was one thing, but being reminded of it made my skin itch. I raked my fingers through my hair and tugged onthe strands. I needed a haircut, but every cent I’d had got blown on stupid decisions.
I knew the way Kieran treated me should rub me the wrong way, but it was a relief in a way to have one person on the planet treat me how I deserved. I certainly wasn’t worthy of Patricia’s hospitality, or Shane’s generosity, or even Archer’s reluctant kindness. Kieran thought I was less than nothing, and he let me know at every opportunity.
“I’ll be there with bells on,” I told him without a smile. I didn’t think I knew how to do that anymore.
Before he could say anything else, Patricia appeared. “Oh good, you’re awake. Just in time for dinner. Kieran, can you be a darling and help him to the table?”
