But the pain glinting behind his dark eyes was too obvious for her to ignore. Fisting her hands, she tried to resist the urge to look at him with the longing she felt. He rose to his feet and slogged forward, his hair hanging down limply. There was nothing okay with him right now. No way did he want her there.
But at least he didn’t toss her out when he discovered she dumped all of his alcohol down the sink drain. It was silly because he only had to take the elevator to the ground floor and walk two blocks to the corner convenience store. Kayla only did it to prove a point. She knew better than to expect to alter his behavior in the long-term. That change had to come from him.
She went to the coffee maker, glad to see a cheap brand of ground coffee. She started measuring it out and added water to the tank.
“What did you do out here?”
“Cleaned it.” She glared at him sharply. “I had nothing else to do while you were blacked out or passed out or whatever. What’s the difference?”
He didn’t answer and his gaze avoided her anger. Turning, he flopped onto the couch. His body seemed a bowl of jelly. He slipped forward into a hunch as he had done on the floor. The coffee smelled so good that it perked her senses. Dropping two slices of bread into the toaster, she found some butter while she waited but that was all there was to spread on the toast. All at once, she left the kitchen and disappeared into his bathroom. When she came back out, she handed him two pain killers and a glass of water. “Take these. Drink it.”
He took the pills and glared at the water.
“Do it.” She had no time for extra care.
Sipping the water as if it were some kind of newly discovered healing elixir, he finished it and handed the glass back to her. She took the glass and filled it again. Tipping her head, she all but tapped her foot, impatiently waiting. The toast popped up and she buttered it generously, setting the two slices on a paper towel and pushing them to him. “Eat this.”
“I’m too queasy.”
“Duh. You need to eat and drink lots of water. You’re dehydrated.”
He glared again in reply but finally bit into the toast. Kayla made some more toast for herself and waited for it to heat in complete silence. The quiet created a discomfort that was sensed by all until she heard him chewing and she smiled with a modicum of satisfaction.
Once her toast was ready, she poured two cups of coffee and sat, putting as much space between them as she could. She stared straight ahead as she ate her meager breakfast. Her stomach was hurting but the toast soaked up the excess acid rumbling in her gut.
Staring vacantly with an aching heart, she balled up her empty paper towel. “I want to know what happened. The aliases and the Zavarians and how you got here. I assume it all ties into what I learned about you last night. Right?”
He nodded. His eyeballs were ping-ponging around.
She held in a breath and slowly let it out as she decided to jump in and ask exactly what she had to know. “Then answer one thing first and we can work backwards. Are you an alcoholic?”
Chapter 13
HE LIFTED THE GLASS of water to his lips, drank all of it and set it down. “I don’t know.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know.”
“Jim… freaking talk to me. Be honest. Be open. Acknowledge this was fucked up. I opened your bedroom door and thought you were dead. It took a moment to see you breathing. Never mind how bad this place looked and smelled. I could have choked on all the disgusting crap I found, Pastor Jim.” Oh, the sarcasm and anger. It was growing, percolating and would soon bubble over. How dare he do that, look like that, and let her worry about him by not contacting her and when she asks him why, he said he didn’t know and stopped talking.
“But you drank alcohol all alone for days straight in this apartment? I’m not misinterpreting that?”
“Yes.”
“The night of the shooting when I came over, you were doing this. You were also drunk when you had sex with me and I guess I didn’t fully realize how drunk you really were?”
“Yes.”
“Do you drink every night?”
“No.”
“Every weekend? Certain days?”
His hands streaked