25. Amorette
AMORETTE
D ays I’d been inside this apartment with Lafe.
Most of the time, he avoided talking to me.
I also contributed because I did my best to stick to this bedroom except for when I was hungry.
Then, seeing him in the kitchen was unavoidable.
He was always in the main living space. Typing on his phone, working on a laptop, or watching me behind a blank mask as I got what I needed and went back to the bedroom.
I’d only seen him sleeping twice, and both times didn’t seem to last long.
He didn’t cook for me like he had in the other apartment, and I hadn’t seen him eat. More than once, that first day passed through my mind.
Not sleeping, barely eating. Those were signs of drug use.
Even though he seemed so healthy before, at least from a weight perspective.
Now, I was tired.
Tired of sitting in this bedroom with nothing to do. Tired of thinking and picking over every single one of Grey’s actions and potential motives behind them. So tired of replaying the death scene over and over every time I shut my eyes. Beyond tired of crying.
This whole surreal experience was a test of my character. It also broke open my perspective and rearranged my worldview into something very different.
I rolled to a sitting position and swung my legs over the side of the bed. A light groan escaped my lips as I stretched and twisted. There was still some lingering soreness, but days of doing nothing helped. I wasn’t one hundred percent better, but I was on my way.
Outside of when the brothers had jerked me around or slammed me into something, usually when I was trying to get away, they’d left me alone.
Padding quietly to the door, I opened it and headed toward the living room. I didn’t necessarily want to talk to Lafe, but an uncomfortable conversation had to be better than being alone with my thoughts. I’d had too much of that lately. He couldn’t be as hard on me as I was on myself.
I couldn’t take another hour of wondering if I had almost put myself right back in a bad or worse situation.
Grey was still a bad man. That was unquestionable.
But did saving me lessen his thirst for blood? Did it color his crime in a brighter, more understanding light?
I wasn’t sure, and my brain hurt from picking it apart.
I rubbed at the side of my forehead where a stress headache had gathered, then stopped in my tracks.
Lafe sat on the couch with his hand resting on his stomach. His other held the remote on the arm of the couch.
He looked worse today.
Much worse.
Dark purple bruises were stamped under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken in. Even when he looked at me, his dull eyes seemed not to really see me. I could have confused him for a statue if it wasn’t for the constant trembling encasing his entire body.
We went on like that for a few minutes. Me waiting to see if he would say anything, him seeming not to realize I was even there. Not really.
Shaking myself mentally, I bypassed him and went into the kitchen looking for medicine. I didn’t want to feel bad for him. Or to understand him at all, but as I searched the cabinets, guilt settled on my chest.
What was I going to do? I didn’t have a phone. I was locked in by an alarm. I could talk with him. Try and feed him. Get some water in him in case he was dehydrated.
That was all I could do.
I found the medicine in the far corner cabinet. If it was supposed to hold medicines, then Lafe did a poor job of stocking it. The headache medicine was the only bottle. There were still a few shelves lying at the bottom like he couldn’t be bothered to put them up.
The stark difference between his place and Grey’s was eye-opening. Maybe troubling.
Grey was a health nut. His cabinets were stocked with spices and food. Dishes. The fridge was stuffed with lean meats with an assortment of fresh veggies and fruits.
Then there was Lafe’s.
The cabinets were mostly bare, with the exception of some mismatched items. The fridge had an expired jug of milk for the box of some kind of kid’s cereal. The wording reminded me of Froot Loops, but the picture was more of a Captain Crunch cereal.
I was probably lucky there were a couple of cases of bottled water in the corner. Grey had had a filtration water thing on his counter, but Lafe didn’t have that. Did that mean the water here wasn’t safe to drink? I didn't want to chance it.
After I swallowed a couple of pills and ate a few spoonfuls of peanut butter, I paced around the small space.
Lafe couldn’t see me from where he was sitting. If he could, he was so zoned out. I didn’t think he would think anything of it.
Shit. I should at least feed him. Maybe convince him to call someone for groceries.
If he called one of his brothers, they might drop off the groceries and see something was wrong.
Then I could stop the new guilt surging to the top of my tangled emotions.
I’d had enough of my own mess, thank you. I didn’t need to add this to it.
Hell, I didn’t know. Maybe this was normal for him. He’d shown signs of addiction from the very beginning. But somehow, I couldn’t see those men just letting him destroy himself.
The man who gave me an ultimatum in the apartment was stronger than this. He wouldn’t have been on the verge of overdosing. Was he close to overdosing?
Stomping around the kitchen, I checked the bread. It was moldy. I did find a pack of saltines in the back of the pantry. I hastily made some peanut butter crackers, snatched a bottle of water from the case, and headed to the living room.
Calming the heat in my steps, I slowed down before he could see me. Good thing, too, because his gaze was already cast toward the kitchen when I appeared.
Was he just listening to me in there?
He didn’t say anything as I perched on the table in front of him and held out the paper plate and bottle of water.
“You look like you’re hungry. I would have made you a sandwich, but there’s pretty much no food.
” When he didn’t take them, I set the plate on his lap and the bottle next to me. Maybe the smell would tempt him.
Glancing down at the food then back up to me, he kept silent and simply ground his jaw. Because I wasn’t a complete ass and I did want to help, I continued.
“If you call the maid or someone, I can tell them what we need.” And maybe they’ll take a good look at you while they’re here.
“Why?” he croaked.
Why did I want to feed him? Why was I trying to help him at all? I wish I could be sure of my answers, but I wasn’t. Except, I might have viewed this as a little payback.
Over the last several days, I stopped viewing him as the monster. Now, I only saw him as a broken man.
“No,” he jerked to an upright position and recoiled away from me. “So you can try and escape again? Fucking, no.”
I flinched. Even though he was high on something, he meant the words. And I had earned them. It wasn’t wrong of me to try and escape when I could, and as much as I didn’t want to, I understood why there wasn’t even the possibility of trust.
Grey had tried to give it to me.
And I’d shit all over it for a sliver of a chance to return home.
With a death staining my soul, I could honestly say fleeing wasn’t my top priority. Not hating myself was now at the top of that list.
“I won’t try to leave. After Grey killed that man… I don’t want a repeat of that. Call someone. Have them bring some groceries. We still need to eat.”
“Fuck no. I’m not giving you a chance to stab me in the back. I should have never taken you from Maikel’s.” He shot to his feet and started pacing around the living room. His hands twitched, and his gaze shot to me every few seconds as if he expected me to attack him.
The sting of his words tried to bury its way into my chest, but I brushed it off as best as I could. It could be the drugs talking. That was the most likely answer. Otherwise, Lafe would have been hostile from the very beginning.
But the fact that he now didn’t see me as worth saving… It was stupid. If he felt that way, it was because I had been trouble for him. But they wouldn’t let me leave, and I had no reason to trust them.
Except the more I watched and studied them, the more suffocating guilt landed on my shoulders for making their lives harder.
“I’ve changed my mind. I won’t leave, I promise.” I twisted to the side of the table to face him. “Can I call Grey?”
He chucked out a harsh laugh. “Oh, hell to the fuck no. Grey’s the last person who wants to hear from you. After he took you out? And you fucked him over like that? Do you even have any idea how much hot water we’re in because of what Grey did?” He scoffed and clenched his jaw.
I was speechless.
Shocked.
Grey was in trouble for saving me? They all were?
Fuck! I didn’t understand enough about who they were or the lives they lived. Grey had shared a few things. Lafe too. But…
Could they really be in trouble because of me? If danger was anything like Grey’s outburst, that would mean possible death. Should I ask?
No. I couldn’t. Lafe wasn’t in the right frame of mind to give me truthful answers. And why should he? I hadn’t cooperated with them at all.
Sinking down into a vat of self-loathing, I tried to—shit. I pressed my palms against my eyes. I had no idea what I was thinking. My brain was on a hiatus while my heart beat painfully against my ribs.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” I stated quietly, but I was a broken record at this point. They didn’t give two fucks about what I meant to happen. Or why I chose to run.
Ha. The old saying about good intentions streamed through my fractured thoughts.
“So, you didn’t mean to slip away from Grey while he was with our insane father? You didn’t care what would happen when he came after you?” He stopped and faced me, his hands out to his sides. “Because you should have known he would go after you.”
Some of the fire was back in his eyes. I wanted to be thankful he wasn’t about to pass out on the floor, but the more riled he got, the worse he ripped into me.