Chapter7
Katelyn
Feeling light despite the exhaustion after my shift at the diner, pulling at my consciousness, I make my way into the front of the small apartment building.After checking the mail and seeing a couple of bills, I head for the stairs.
Movement in the corner of my eye stops me, though.
Panic shoots through me like a bolt of electricity, but it turns to concern when I realize it’s my neighbor leaning back against the wall, his chin tucked to his chest.
“Garrison?What’s wrong?What are you doing down here?”I shove the bills into my purse and shoulder it as I make my way over to him.
“Just taking a quick pause before getting on the elevator,” he replies.When he lifts his head to look at me, I note the paleness of his face and the heaviness of his eyes.His shoulders are slumped forward, his smile half-hearted.
Immediately, I move into what Thomas calls “Nurse-mom Mode.”Something he loves to tease me about whenever he gets the chance.It’s served me well, though, especially over these past few weeks.
Garrison doesn’t seem to be gasping for breath, so that’s one concern I can set aside.But his pallor is bothersome.Reaching forward, I touch a hand to his cheek, my thumb running over the clammy skin just above the coarse hair of his beard.He stills at the contact, his dark lashes fluttering closed.
The stirring in my gut is as unmistakable as it is unwanted.“How long have you been down here?”
“What time is it?”His voice is weak.Not quite a whisper, but not nearly as deep as it usually is.
“Eleven fifteen.”
He laughs softly, but it’s humorless.“A while, then.Sorry.”He pushes off the wall and starts toward the elevator but stumbles.
Rushing forward, I slip an arm around his waist to steady him.It’s not lost on me that touching him doesn’t make me want to hurl.Not like it does whenever any other man tries to touch me.It’s just because he needs help.
“Thanks,” he murmurs.“Sorry.Long day.”
“It shouldn’t have been,” I reply, tone sharp.“You were supposed to be taking it easy.”I make a mental note to let Anastasia know she needs to tell Sawyer he should check in on Garrison more often if he can.Will he even listen to his friend, though?
The elevator doors open, and a wave of panic hits me when Garrison moves forward and guides us both toward it.I start to fight, but I can’t carry him, and he’s in no shape to walk up the stairs.
Even knowing that, though, it takes every bit of willpower I have to force myself to step into the box.
The walls begin to close, and my own breathing turns ragged as the doors close in front of us.
No.No.
I’m safe.
He’s not here.
Nothing is going to happen.
“Are you okay?”Garrison’s deep voice roots me in the present.
“Not a fan of small spaces,” I reply.Because that’s an answer far easier than the truth.Explaining to people you nearly lost your life when your husband trapped you in an elevator with him and tried to beat you to death, all while your infant screamed in his stroller, tends to lead to more questions than I want to answer.
A shiver of relief runs through me when the doors open.I let Garrison set the pace as we move off the elevator and toward his door.
“Thanks.I’m okay now.”
“Good.I’ll make sure you get inside.”
“Don’t trust me not to make a run for it?”he asks.
The sideways grin he throws my way warms my insides, but the short trip down memory lane, thanks to that elevator, has given me the strength to beat that attraction back.I have no time for men and their broken promises.