Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,74
the muscles of his jaw bunch and I’m pretty sure I know what he’s thinking.
It’s impressive how he’s holding his tongue. At any moment, I expect the ‘I told you so’ to come spilling out of his mouth, but he grits his teeth and lets me continue. He’s listening to my account as the lawyer who will defend me in court. He’s not taking notes, but I’m sure every word I say is being indelibly stored in that impressive mind of his.
“Well, that is a terrifying story.” Gracie pats my knee. “I’m glad everything turned out all right.”
It’s not all right. I’m facing felony arson charges which can put me away for up to twenty years. Or more.
I’ve seen that look in Prescott’s face before. The challenge of a particularly difficult case. My life is literally in his hands.
“How about we put your things up, get you moved in?” Gracie grabs one of the many bags full of our shopping spree. I wanted simple, she shopped like she always did. Half the things inside these bags will never get worn. This town simply doesn’t cater to that echelon of society.
I did manage to get in some sensible clothes, jeans, shorts, cotton panties instead of silk and lace, and an assortment of cotton tee-shirts instead of the designer blouses she insisted I buy. I grab several bags and join Gracie in the larger of the two bedrooms.
“We can move the bed out.” She points to the smaller bedroom. “And set it up as an office.”
“An office?”
“I know this place isn’t what you’re used to, but we can make it work. If there’s not a gym nearby, we can set it up with what you need.”
Yes, I forgot Gracie’s life revolves around keeping her model perfect figure.
“I saw several day spas we can check out.” She gives another pat to my arm. “We’ll find you something suitable.”
How do I tell her I don’t need a workout room in my home because I get more than enough exercise on the trails? My worry isn’t if I’m getting enough exercise, but whether I can consume enough calories not to lose precious muscle mass.
I’ve always been thin, but now I’m thin and lean. Strong. Self-sufficient. I don’t need a day spa home or a fitness center with a coach.
That’s not my life anymore.
It is for the foreseeable future, however. Prescott says no more disappearing for weeks at a time. I process what that means as Gracie and I pack the drawers of the dresser with things I don’t need and hang all the fancy dresses I’ll never wear in the closet.
When we’re done, we rejoin Prescott and head out for dinner where our conversation is stunted and filled with awkward pauses. I get it. We’ve all been through shit and no one is dealing with any of it particularly well. Fortunately, dinner is a quick affair and I’m home before I know it.
They leave me in my new home with no television, no WiFi, and nothing in the fridge. I’ll get groceries in the morning when my car arrives. Prescott thought of everything, even down to delivering a car.
For the rest of the night, it’s me and my garish little home. I’m so damn bored I could cry.
Spending the day with Prescott and Gracie emotionally drains me. It’s been a long, lonely day without Asher. Odd how much I miss him, but I refuse to be clingy. I could call, but I don’t.
I don’t want him to know how much I’m thinking about him. Or admit it to myself. There must be something I can do to entertain myself.
Not a book in the house?
How is that possible? I’ve got the most hideous country cute decor and not a single book or magazine? If I had my old phone, I’d read on it, but my new phone is a virgin piece of technology, completely unlinked to my previous phone.
I would download my old phone from the cloud, except after a year of barely looking at my phone, I remember none of the passwords to any of my previous accounts. So, I can’t even download the extensive library I’d built up over the years and I’m too damn lazy to start new accounts.
This means asking Prescott for another favor. Hopefully he can restore my phone from wherever its backup is stored. Until then, it’s just me, my empty home, and the walls which feel as if they’re closing in on me.
Funny to think I feel more comfortable