20 Rich
The rest of the weekend is calmer than the night at Sins. Kim sleeps a lot into the following day, missing when Vinny calls and asks what I’ll be doing about a membership since I decided to participate, and I’m signed up before she even awakes. It’ll be a nice surprise next time we go.
Halloween passes and November arrives with a cold rush, blanketing Denver in an early snow that takes the last of autumn with it. She conveniently has work off that day, and I don’t have any deliveries for a few more days, so we get to spend the time together and enjoy each other’s company.
When Kim finally has work again that following Sunday when the weather is iffy again, one glaringly obvious problem comes up both on the way there and hours later when I pick her up. “You should get a car.”
She glares at me as we drive back to my house.
I kept myself busy prepping online orders and deliveries while she was gone, adamant that she needed to keep going to her job.
It doesn’t matter that I have money that could support her; she doesn’t want that.
And I’m not about to suggest she quit her job and sound in any way like I might be trying to control her.
“I don’t need a car,” Kimber says, looking anywhere but me. It’s late now, so I can’t really see the expression on her face, but I can definitely hear the annoyance in her voice. “I’ve gotten around just fine without one for almost a year.”
I frown as we stop at a light, side eyeing her. “A year? That’s really annoying to deal with in Denver.”
She shrugs, and doesn’t say anything else until after the light changes. “It was a beater anyway and I can just as easily take a rideshare when I need to. It’s not a big deal. If driving me around bothers me-”
“It’s not a bother,” I say automatically, hating that her brain went there. “It just seems inconvenient for you. You decided to keep working at Sins?”
She hesitates. “For now.”
“So two jobs and no ride,” I say, trying to work it out in my head. “I mean, I’m sure it's doable, but seems like extra work for you.”
“I don’t need a car,” she snaps again, her voice sharper. I turn onto my street and I can almost feel the air shift, like all she wants to do is jump out. “I haven’t for a year. Jonah didn’t have any control over me about my car. You can’t either.”
I shoot her a glare as I hit the garage door button, and I don’t care if she can see it or not. “Do not compare the two of us.”
Kimber doesn’t respond, getting out to slam the door and hurry inside. I blink and take a few deep breaths, wondering how asking her about a car set her off this much.
Once I’m in the house, the garage door closing behind me, I find her in the kitchen. She’s opening various cabinets and leaving the doors open as she looks around, and seems to be in the process of kicking a chair over to my fridge to look in the cabinet above.
My mood sours, and I lean against the counter as I watch her look. She’s not going to find what she wants. “I don’t have any alcohol.”
Her head snaps around, and she’s glaring at me. Considering how much alcohol I saw in her house when I visited, I’m surprised it took this long for her to search my house for it. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Not everyone finds comfort in a bottle,” I tell her, holding her gaze as she climbs down. She’s flushed from flying around the kitchen, her cheeks red enough they almost match her hair. “I don’t keep anything in stock unless I have a need for it.”
Her fists open and close, and she’s taking shallow breaths. She doesn’t speak out loud, but I hear the words like she has: I need it.
Sighing, I circle around and move to sit at the table. It’s tucked against a bay window that looks out over the backyard. There’s not much to see in the dark. “I won’t buy any alcohol to stock. If you do, I’m just going to throw it out.”
She sneers. “Don’t police me. I can make my own decisions about this.”
My gaze drops to her hands, watching the way they shake. “Alcohol is a vice when you’re uncomfortable. It’s not something you need.” I hesitate, feeling an argument brewing between us. “There’s classes-”
“No,” she says immediately, crossing her arms tight over her chest. “First the car, now this?”
“You’re the one that came in here and started looking.
” I sweep my hand around the room, indicating to all the cabinets.
Every single one is open, even the drawers.
“I’m not trying to judge you, Kim. I’m asking questions to understand you.
Choosing to not have a car just feels like something that adds an extra hardship. ”
“It’s not a money thing,” she snaps, and I hadn’t even brought that up. “That’s not an issue.”
I nod slowly, waiting to see if she’ll open up or continue to snap. “Okay.”
She twists, rotating her hips so she’s no longer facing me.
Her guards are going up again, and I can feel her beginning to shut down.
I didn’t think I was pushing that much asking about a car.
“I don’t like cars. Cars come with plates and tags and they show if you’re home or not and where you’re at and if you’re still someplace.
Cars show what you’re doing. It’s easy to follow them and you can track them and someone can just learn your routine from your car.
And - and show up at your house unexpectedly because they know you’re home and get in your face over it. ”
My eyes narrow. “And that’s what Jonah did to you?”
Her back stiffens, and she glares at me. Little pieces of red hair fall across her face, coming out of the lazy updo, but she doesn’t look away from my eyes. “Yes. B - before I killed him. He came over one day and…”
Her voice trails off, and one of my worst fears is coming true.
I assumed, and she’s sort of confirmed, that Jonah hurt her more than once.
There were moments that led to her decision to buy a gun and kill him when he threatened her.
I do the math in my head, from the time she stopped having a car to the time Jonah died.
“How long after you started seeing Jonah did you decide to get rid of your car?”
Kim steps back, and if I let her go she’ll shut me out and pretend this never happened. She’ll ignore everything. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“But you should, if not to me, to someone,” I say carefully, rising from the chair. She glares at me but doesn’t move away. “Because he’s still affecting you, dead or not.”
She tilts her chin. “He can’t hurt me anymore. I made sure of it.”
Cocking my head, I give her a few moments to stew over that. “He doesn’t have to be here to hurt you. He still controls parts of your mind because of the fear he instilled in you. So long as his memory can do that, he’s still hurting you.”
Kim picks up the mail sitting on the counter and throws it at me. It all falls short, landing in piles in the middle of the floor. “Shut up.”
“Look at you now,” I say carefully, stepping around the papers. “You don’t want to have a car because of something he did. He planted fear in your mind and stole your sense of security.”
“You don’t know anything,” she snaps, glaring at me as I get closer. If she wanted to, she could reach out and strike me, but all she does is ball up her hands and keep glaring. “Don’t push me, Rich.”
“Stop hiding,” I counter, cocking my head. “You don’t have to go buy a car tomorrow or join an AA group. I just need you to open your mind up to the idea that although he’s dead, you aren’t over him. He’s left an impression on you.”
Kimber looks away, shaking her head angrily. Her eyes drag to the windows at the back of my house and linger. “If you push, I’ll run away.”
I keep my eyes on her. “If you run, I’ll catch you.”
She snaps her head around to glare at me. “No.”
“No?”
“What if I don’t want you to?” she counters, and something flickers through her eyes. Fear? “What if I don’t want to play games?”
I shrug, stepping closer. She doesn’t push me back. “Then you have a safe word, and you can scream it to the heavens if you want to. It doesn’t mean I’ll step back and watch you self-destruct when things get hard.”
Her eyes glance past me, eyeing the kitchen. She drags her lip between her teeth, thinking.
“If you catch me,” she says carefully, moving towards the sliding glass door.
She shifts her eyes back to me, moving like she expects me to jump over the counter and tackle her to the floor.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know about Jonah.
If you can’t find me in one hour, you don’t ask me anything else about him again unless I bring it up. ”
I raise a brow, staring at her necklace. She’s consistently worn it since I gave it to her. “And the tracker?”
“You won’t cheat,” she says confidently. “I’ll hide and you hunt. If you find me, you can have the answers you want.”
My eyes drift across her face, and I’m not sure this is a good idea.
She looks distressed, and I’m positive she’s feeling the effects of alcohol withdrawal after struggling the past week.
Now her body craves it because I asked some questions and she thinks she needs it.
Letting her run off in the dark while she’s emotionally compromised could cause problems.
She’s already at the sliding glass door, waiting for my answer. I eye her, wondering if she’ll back down. “This is a bad idea.”
“You keep telling me that,” she replies dryly. “Do I get a head start or are you going to tackle me off the porch?”
I frown. The Halloween feel still lingers in the air each time the snow melts, and there’s more people outside, fucking around in the dark.
I don’t pay that much attention to what my neighbors are up to, but there’s a slim chance we might run into someone at this hour.
People love to mess around, especially between October and December.