Don’t look.
Don’t look his way, Lottie.
I still glanced at where I’d left Reid. He was gone.
Bram picked up the glass of water he’d brought to the bedside table and a small pill bottle without a label. Bram held out the glass to me. “I recommend small sips.”
It didn’t look like he was going to bring up what had just happened. That was a relief.
Even though I was dying to chug down the whole glass, I did as he said.
Bram opened the small pill bottle. “Bobby left these for you.” He held out two round pills to me in the palm of his hand. “They’re for pain.”
I took them and washed them down with a little bit of water.
Bram sat back in the armchair and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He watched me as I continued to sip on my water. “Do you want to talk about what just happened?”
My relief at him not bringing it up had been short-lived. I shook my head.
He nodded. “Just so you know, you’re not a burden.”
It didn’t make me feel better to hear that; it just felt like words. “Has anyone asked if you’re okay with any of this? I can see how you would feel obligated to help when they brought me to your door—” I had to wince again. I hated that it was so hard to talk. For so long, I’d tried to avoid talking—it was safer that way—but right now, my words couldn’t be contained. “I’m not your responsibility.”
He didn’t respond right away. For a while, he just stared at me. As time ticked by, that stare began to feel heavy. “No one asked,” he said.
I knew it. Prue and Reid were wrong. No one would or could help me. Bringing me here had been a mistake. Reid should have just left me where he’d found me. Now I was left with a mess to figure out. I didn’t have money or clothes of my own. I wouldn’t get far before Mother hunted me down. She didn’t want me dead—not yet, at least. I needed to be alive so she could sell me to the Carmichaels.
I should have just kept walking. I should have made it out Bram’s front door.
“But they didn’t have to,” Bram added, pulling me from my internal spiral. “I don’t feel like helping you is an obligation. When your friends showed up with you, I…” He trailed off, looking like he was pondering what to say. “I may not have raised you, but you’re still my kid. I never stopped thinking about you.”
Maybe if I had been ten years old, desperate for a parent like other children had, I would’ve been blindly moved and reassured by his words. But it was too late. He was too late.
“There’s doubt in your eyes that tells me you’ve been let down a lot in your life.” He stared at the floor. “I don’t know where to begin to tell you how sorry?—”
“I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.” If anything, it was upsetting me.
He looked back up at me. “I think you do, but you’re not ready to hear it and that’s fine.”
I wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Maybe actions might be a better way to prove to you that it’s okay that you’re here and you’re safe.I’mgoing to keep you safe. I won’t let your mother or anyone else hurt you again. And Iwillbe dealing with your mother.” He sounded angry just mentioning her.
The idea of him confronting Mother made my stomach churn and my chest feel heavy. “If she figures out where I am—” My raspy voice broke from pain I couldn’t ignore anymore.
He cupped the backs of my hands, which still held my almost empty glass. “It’s okay.”
He didn’t know her like I did.
“Right now, you’re my priority,” he said. “I know it’s hard to do, but I don’t want you worrying about anything other than healing. I’m taking time off from work and club duties so I can be here.”
I didn’t have the voice to argue anymore. I had nowhere to go. No way to run. I had to brace for the worst.
“I’m tired,” I whispered.
Bram took the glass from me and set it on the bedside table. Slowly, I scooted back and lifted my legs one by one onto the bed. You really don’t realize how much you use your core muscles until you hurt them.
Bram helped cover me with the blankets. “Do you want me to turn off the light?”
