She opened her eyes. “Touching me–wise? No.”
“You swear to me?”
“Yes. Although I wouldn’t put it past him, and I don’t know what he would do if he actually got through my locked door, but he hasn’t put a finger on me.” The emotion was thickening. “Mentally, every day, he crushes me a little bit more.”
I could see the toll this was taking on her. I could hear it in her voice.
I was going to fucking kill this man.
“He lives off disability,” she explained. “It doesn’t pay a lot, so he never has enough money. He drains me, Walker. That’s where the majority of my money goes. He charges me for rent and utilities, which I’m happy to pay—I don’t expect to live there for free—but it doesn’t stop there. Multiple times a day, he asks for more. He’s relentless about it, and the measures he takes … it’s awful.”
I could even see the pain when she swallowed.
“He won’t let me eat there—food that I pay for. He uses itas a punishment.” Her head fell toward her chest. “I can’t … I … just can’t.”
I was going to circle back to that topic, but there were other questions I needed to ask, like, “Have you found a place to move to?”
“I’ve found a few.” She looked at me. “What they’re requiring to move in, I don’t have.”
“I’ll give you whatever you need.” I tightened my grip on her knee. “Let me do that. Please.”
She sat up a little straighter. “I will absolutely not let you do that.” She offered a small, weak smile. “Besides, it wouldn’t even help. My income history isn’t stable enough. The landlords ask to see at least six months of a consistent income before they’ll even consider renting to me. I’ve been denied twice so far.”
“I’ll write a check to cover an entire year of your rent. Problem solved.”
“No.” She waved the air. “I love you for even saying that, but seriously, no.” She reached forward and rested her hand on my cheek. “I can put up with it for six more months. I’ve gone this long. And when those six months are up and I can finally get out and be in a place that isn’t theirs”—her eyes filled with tears—“it’s going to be the best feeling ever.”
She had such a fight in her. Such fucking strength and determination.
I’d never met a woman like Alivia Todd—a full name I’d only just learned from her employee file. I was sure she would have told me had I asked. I just never did because it didn’t matter to me.
I released a long, deep breath. “I need to bring up something about the food and Dean not allowing you to eat.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
I didn’t know how to address this. I didn’t want to upsether. I didn’t want to offend her. I didn’t want her to have to dig up even more baggage.
But I wanted more from her.
And if more came with darkness, then I needed to see just how deep those layers went.
“Have you always been this tiny?” My hand stilled. “And before you answer that, you need to know this isn’t something Iwantyou to talk about, but it’s something Ineedyou to talk about.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Weight is a sensitive thing—I get that. Once we discuss this, we never have to talk about it again. But I have noticed that since you started working at Charred, you’ve put on a few pounds—and, fuck, I hope my saying this doesn’t upset you, but those few pounds look fucking incredible on you.”
“It’s okay.” She grabbed my arm. “I appreciate you handling that delicately, but I know how thin I am—and I know I’m too thin, and I’m so happy I put on weight. I need to put on more, I know that too.” She stroked my arm while she blinked several times. “It’s amazing that you feed your employees for free. The assisted living facility doesn’t do that. They give us leftovers, but I can barely remember a time when there’s been any food left. They also offer food at a discount, so that was basically my only meal for the day until I started working at Charred.”
“Now you understand why I was ruthlessly trying to feed you, and that was before I knew anything.”
“I get it.” She took a deep breath, pushing the hair off her face before she clasped my arm again. “And to answer your question, yes, I’ve always been tiny-ish. That’s because Mom’s priority was alcohol, not food. From a young age, I learned to survive off very little. My body just got used to it. And then, when I started making my own money, I quickly gained weight, and that’s when Dean began to ask for morecash. If I had all this money for food, then I had more to give him.”
As she went quiet, the hate I had for that fucking man doubled.
“I told you, there were so many times that I thought a meal would make Mom and me feel better—the wholegoing to bed with a full stomach would be like a wool blanketthing, ya know? But it’s also something I never had. And when you don’t have it, you don’t realize how much you miss it or want it or even need it.” Her shoulders rounded forward. “I’m so used to feeling empty and achy, so when I do fill my stomach, I generally keep things pretty light. I’m afraid my body will reject it if I don’t.” When she exhaled, it was so loud. “I’m a mess.”
“No. I’m a fucking mess, Alivia. You’re a person who’s thrived in an environment that tried to destroy you.”
She loosened her fingers from around my arm and drew them over my skin. “Thank you for never looking at me like you feel bad for me. And thank you for looking like you want to strangle Dean.” She let out a small laugh. “Which you won’t—I won’t let you—but I really love that you look like you want to.”
“I want nothing more than to fucking shred that man.”
