Barely Breathing(39)

“What have you been using?”

His eyes flicked to mine and then back to the floor and he shook his head. “You know . . . coke, mostly.”

“That’s an expensive habit, Gray.”

His laughter held no humor. “Don’t I know it. Cleaned me out. I will pay you back that five hundred bucks, Viv. I just need to get back on my feet.”

“I’m not worried about the money. Do you still have your job?”

“Ah . . . technically. But I think I’ll get fired any moment now.”

“Go on a medical leave. Stay with Mom and Dad for a few weeks or go to rehab in Indy.”

He recoiled. “Rehab? I’m not a junkie or anything.”

“Rehab is for kicking addiction. And you’re addicted.”

“I don’t know. I’m just staying home and away from the bad influences for now.”

I patted his thigh. “I guess that’s a start. You’ve taken the first step.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey,” I said, glancing at my watch, “I’m sorry, but I have to get to work. I’ve got a twelve-fifteen meeting.”

Grayson nodded and stood up. “I’m just gonna use your bathroom and I’ll take off after that.”

“We can share a cab. I’ll pay.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I think walking’s good for me right now. Gives me time to think.”

“Okay.”

I went into the kitchen and packed my water bottle and some fruit into my bag. Kane’s water glass sat on my counter. He liked my oldest, heaviest glass and I always washed it and returned it to its spot on the counter for him. Looking at it right now brought me down. I opened the counter and set it inside.

“Hey, thanks for the talk,” Grayson said, sticking his head around the corner to look at me. “I’m out.”

“Be careful. And safe. Call me if you need to talk, okay? Or come back over. I’m here for you.”

He nodded and zipped up his coat. “Thanks, Vivi.”

He hadn’t called me that since we were kids. Hearing it made me smile.

Grayson left and I grabbed my phone to check my email. I had to return one and call the office about another one. When I got off the phone, I headed for the door with my stuff but stopped when I remembered I hadn’t finished my mascara or put on my jewelry because I’d stopped to answer the door.

I put my bags down and went to the bathroom to finish. Mascara applied, necklace fastened . . . but why couldn’t I find my watch? I always left it on the shelf near the sink with my other few pieces of jewelry.

After searching the floor, medicine cabinet and even taking a desperate peek inside the toilet, I panicked. That watch was precious to me. It was the last Christmas gift my grandma had given me before she passed away from cancer.

I was near tears when I felt a sick lurch in my stomach. I met my own gaze in the mirror.

Grayson. My brother had stolen my watch.



I was a mess when I got to work. I’d cried on the subway ride here. The loss of the watch cut deep, but knowing Grayson would lie to my face about wanting to get better and then steal from me was worse.

After this, I couldn’t even let him into my apartment anymore. I felt a crushing sadness. My instinct was to call Kane and talk to him about it. He wouldn’t talk much, he rarely did, but just having him listen would make me feel better.

But screw him. Grayson wasn’t the only one who’d let me down today.

I sat down at my desk and touched up the eye makeup I’d cried off. I was finishing it up when my phone dinged with a text. I picked it up and saw that Grayson had returned my text.

I’d sent a message on the subway that said ‘Bring back my watch or we’re done.’

His return message made my skin crawl.

Grayson: I can’t. You don’t understand. I’ll replace it Viv.

I typed a furious message back.

Me: Gram gave me that watch. You sell it for drug money and I’ll never forgive you.

Grayson: I’m sorry.

More angry tears were welling in my eyes. My office phone rang and I picked it up.

“Hey, Viv. You okay?”

It was Charlene, the secretary I shared with another attorney. She was always looking out for me.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

“Ben Broadwell just emailed me to say he can’t make the twelve-fifteen meeting.”

I sighed with relief. “Okay. Did he reschedule?”

“He’s getting in touch later about it. And Viv?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s someone on the way to your office. I didn’t catch his name. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and said—”

Kane came into view through the glass door to my office, his expression absent his trademark scowl.

“It’s okay, Charlene,” I said. “He’s here. I’ll see him.”

“Okay.” She hung up and Kane opened my office door.

“Hey. You busy?”

I crossed my arms across my chest. “No. Why?”

He walked in and closed the door behind him. I glanced at the big brown paper bag he carried.

“You were right.” He looked at me and waited.

“Yeah.” I was emotionally wiped out and didn’t have anything else to say.