Chapter 83

“If I’m dismissed, I have nothing to fall back on. The accident… it wiped out all my savings in court fees and fines. I need this job. It pays the rent and buys our food.”

“You still have me!” he shouted.

Grace gasped. Jay never yelled. He was always calm, even in horrible, violent situations. His volatility was unexpected.

“I’ll earn money to take care of you,” he said more quietly, as if the outburst never happened. “Don’t give it another thought.”

Grace stared dazedly at him. She believed him. Even though he didn’t have a steady job or a home of his own, she trusted his word. His words had given her an unprecedented sense of security. Maybe she didn’t have to go it alone. Maybe she did have someone she could rely on.

“Make the call.” He held out the phone.

She hesitated, then called her manager on-call at the Sanitation Center. As the phone rang, her blood pressure rose. She didn’t love the job, but she desperately wanted to keep it. She trusted Jay could provide for them, but didn’t want that responsibility to fall solely on him.

“Hello, Mrs. Jacobson,” she said politely. She summarized the accident, omitting the details about Zoe Stevens and Lily Atkinson.

She expected Mrs. Jacobson to refuse her request or impose additional hurdles, but she was surprised. Mrs. Jacobson inquired about her health, suggested she take more than a week off if needed, and assured her that her minimum wage salary would remain unaffected.

Grace couldn’t believe it.

“What happened?” Jay asked.

“She said yes.”

He continued washing her foot, his hand moving to massage her ankle, then her calf.

She gasped.

His dark gaze met hers.

“She, uh, told me to take more time,” Grace said, feeling her face heat up. “That manager has never been very warm toward me…”

“Don’t overthink it. You’re injured. It’s the right thing to do.”

His fingers gently caressed her ankle, sending tingles through her. Had anyone ever touched her like this? Sean never had. Even during intimacy, he wasn't one for foreplay.

As the tingling intensified, Grace’s face flushed. She imagined his hands tracing higher up her legs. Once her thoughts took that turn, she couldn't look at him without imagining more.

“All… all right. Thank you. I’m, uh, all clean!” she said hurriedly. Ankles… who knew she had such sensitive ankles?

His fingers still held her leg. “Let me dry you.”

“It’s okay. I’m not that wet.” At least her legs and feet weren't.

“Don’t move, Sister,” he ordered.

She felt awkward and frozen, her senses heightened with anticipation. Maybe it was the hospital medication. Maybe it was his touch, his scent, his vow to care for her. Whatever the reason…

She wanted him.

Jay carefully dried her with the towel, then swept her into his arms. This time, she angled her head toward his.

His neck craned towards hers. His eyelids lowered. When his lips were inches from hers, she sputtered, “J-Jay?”

He froze slightly, then lifted his head, his usual expression returning. “Sister, what’s wrong?”

“It’s… it’s nothing.” She bit her lip. Had she imagined that moment? Was she so starved for intimacy that his kindness led to the wrong conclusions?

He placed her on the bed. “You should sleep early today.”

“Yes,” she mumbled.

He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Jay stared at his reflection, wondering how he’d ended up here. In a cramped bathroom, in a small apartment in a bad part of town, with the woman who’d killed his fiancée sleeping nearby.

It wasn’t just the physical proximity; it was the emotional entanglement. Touching Grace, feeling her muscles beneath his fingertips, the softness of her skin, seeing her blush and her pupils dilate at his touch…

He was drawn to her. He analyzed his feelings: attraction, respect, trust, desire.

As long as she didn't reciprocate his deeper emotions, they would be okay.