Page 27 of Wrecked By You

“Have a seat.”

She waved her hand at the table. I remained standing. She gave a half shrug almost as if to say, “Suit yourself.”

“Coffee?”

“I’ll pass.” I tracked her moving about the kitchen. “Care to explain yourself?”

Jesus, Johannes. Cut the woman some slack.

Even a jerk like me could tell she’d had a gut full of whatever shit life had thrown at her between leaving my club on Thursday night, less than thirty hours ago, and now.

Before she had a chance to answer, a child’s voice called out. “Mommy.”

Ella darted past me and into a room on the opposite side of the hallway. I trekked after her, pausing on the threshold.

The room was gloomy, the drapes still closed, and lying on the bed was a little girl, around five or six, maybe, with hair as dark as Ella’s. She was curled into Ella’s body, hacking up her lungs with a cough far too aggressive for someone her size.

Ella rocked her, kissed her hair, said soothing words in a tone too low for me to pick up. My ribs squeezed tight. On one level, I missed the intimacy of being in a relationship, of caring for someone and having them care for me. But the bigger part of me, the part Sadie had created, wouldn’t allow it. “Self-preservation above all” had become my motto, indelibly inked into my being from that night forward.

The little girl’s coughing fit abated, and Ella lay her back down on the bed. Innocent eyes reminiscent of Ella’s turned to me.

“Who are you?”

Ella glanced over her shoulder, then returned her attention to her daughter. “That’s Mommy’s boss.” Another glance in my direction accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “Right?”

Remorse hung over me, heavy as a thundercloud, and I nodded vigorously. “Absolutely.”

Her exhaustion and worry lifted for a moment. “Would you mind giving me a moment? I won’t be long.”

“Of course. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

Chapter11

Ella

Too many questions,

and answers I refuse to give.

I gaveChloe another dose of cough medicine, stroking her hair for a few moments until she fell back to sleep. The cough had started around two o’clock this morning, and she’d been up every hour since then. Poor little mite had to be exhausted. Her fever had reduced a little more, down to one hundred degrees now. With any luck, it would come down further still today, and I wouldn’t have to call for a doctor.

I hated being poor.Hated it. I couldn’t care less about the clothes and the cars and the fancy house. Since escaping Mateo and his poisonous world, I’d come to realize that what really mattered in life was a roof over your head, food on the table, and enough money to take care of those you loved.

I had the first two thanks to Ginny, but the third was where I fell far short of what was needed. A mother’s first job was to keep her baby safe, and, well, here I was making do with over-the-counter cough syrup and homemade remedies.

Johannes took up eighty percent of the space in Ginny’s tiny kitchen, or that was what it seemed like to me. Or maybe it was his presence that gave me a sense of claustrophobia. At least he’d confirmed I still had a job. That was something to cling to, a sliver of good news in a sea of disasters.

Okay, maybe I was slightly exaggerating, but sleep deprivation and worry did strange things to a person.

“Sure you don’t want that coffee?” I plucked a mug off the shelf and filled it to the brim with a pot Ginny had made thirty minutes earlier.

“I’m good.”

I added a dash of cream and pulled out a seat at the table, sinking into it with a heavy thump. My legs were barely holding me up, and my eyes could do with matchsticks to prop them open, hence the caffeine. I’d need a ton of the stuff just to get through today.

There was no chance I could work tonight. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off on that one right away.

“I won’t be able to work tonight either. If that changes your mind about firing me, then go right ahead. I’m too exhausted to care.”