“Let me.” He takes my plate, leaving me sitting there alone. A weird ball of emotion starts to rise up in my throat. I stand, fleeing the dining room. I race up the stairs, almost running into one of the men in all black that are always lingering around.
I don’t want to cry in front of anyone. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m going to cry at all. I go straight for my bathroom, pulling off the stupid black pants and shirt I’d put on to make Griff happy. I change back into my other clothes before I grab the blanket and a pillow from the bed. I pull it over to the gated off area where the kittens are and set up a makeshift bed on the floor next to them before I let my tears escape.
“At least I have you guys now.” I pet mama, who purrs loudly, loving my attention. At least someone does.
9
GRIFFIN
When I get back to the dining room, she’s gone.
“You already ran her off?” Mrs. Putnam walks in and grabs the serving dishes from the table. “Can’t say I’m surprised given the way you stared at her and barely ate.”
“I didn’t stare.”
She gives me an irritated glance. “You stared. You’re going to scare her off, and then you’ll regret it. Loosen up, Griff. She’s a keeper.”
“I’m her guardian,” I remind her. Or am I reminding myself? Because when Vivian let me feed her, when she moaned, hell when she just fucking existed in the same space as me–I couldn’t look away. I can’t seem to think straight when she’s near.
My phone buzzes. I pull it out and scroll through several emails concerning one of the big deals I’m working on. Nothing pressing. Not yet, anyway. The landscape has changed now that David and Laverne are gone. It’s going to be tricky to reassure certain partners that their business is safe in my hands.
I switch my phone to silent and pocket it.
Mrs. Putnam notices, but she doesn’t say anything. I can already hear her thinking He never turns his ringer off. Ever.
“I’m just going to go–”
“Go upstairs and apologize for being a stuffy weirdo.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“I wasn’t being a stuffy weirdo,” I grumble as I climb the stairs. But it’s not like I’m taking advice from Mrs. Putnam. I was going to follow Vivian anyway. I can’t seem to help myself. Wherever she is, I suddenly want to be. I’m not a stuffy weirdo, I’m an obsessed stalker.
I pause in front of her door and lift my hand to knock, but then I hear a sniffle inside. Is she … crying? Not on my goddamn watch! I open the door and find her in the kitten enclosure.
“Griff?” She sits up, and that’s when I see the tears running down her cheeks. I’ve always hated when people try to shorten my name to Griff. With her, I enjoy it.
“No.” I go to her and lift her from the pen, then put her on my lap as I sit on her bed.
“No what?”
“No tears, Viv.” I wipe her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs. “Everything. I don’t know.”
“Is it because of your parents?”
“I think it’s just a lot. My parents. Moving here.” She sighs.
I realize she’s exhausted. She has to be. And she has a point–maybe she didn’t particularly enjoy boarding school, but being ripped away from the only home you ever knew can’t be easy.
“I’m sorry.” I kiss her forehead.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I know that.” I kiss her again, loving the feel of her soft skin. “And I generally never say those words, but with you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it better.”
“I’m already better.” She snuggles against my chest.
“Did you get enough to eat? I can bring a plate up here for–”