Fight or Flight (12 page)

“I’m so sorry I scared you. I just wanted to hold you. I wasn’t thinking. I know you don’t like to be touched and—”

“No. It’s okay.”

Jay watched her face closely for a moment. “Is it?”

Was it? Could it be?

Hope flashed in his eyes and the last thing she wanted to do was crush it, but she wouldn’t lie to him or herself. She gave him the only honest answer she could. “I don’t know. But I want it to be.”

“We could try. I promise not to sneak up on ya this time.”
Jay lips quirked into a slight grin that eased some of her tension.

Slowly, he inched back toward her makeshift bed.
Oh, God. Okay.
She could do this.
Heart kicking back into overdrive—but for an entirely different reason now—she shifted cautiously back onto the pile of papers.

Jay was already stretched out on them. He’d removed all but his undershirt and sweats to sleep in and she got a better view of his body than she’d ever had before, hidden under all of those layers. He was thin—like anyone living out of dumpsters would be—but he still managed to look . . . sturdy.

Muscles flexed in his bare arms as he pillowed his hands behind his head and stared up at her. Those eyes. They were so dark they looked nearly black in the dimly lit room. His hard jaw added to the whole powerful aura he gave off. Square and rough with dark day old fuzz, her fingers itched to touch it. Just like his hair, the way it flowed around his face and down to his collar. The way it flopped into his eyes. She had to fight the urge to brush it away.

He waited patiently as she worked up the nerve to move forward. This was Jay. It wasn’t
him
. She could do this. She
wanted
to do this. Very slowly, she lowered herself down beside him and for a few minutes they just stayed like that—side by side, barely touching. Barely
breathing
. Then Jay sighed.

“I’m going to move, okay? Get us a little more comfortable? If you don’t like it, just tell me to stop.”

He waited for her answer before doing anything.

“Okay.”

Em’s heart pounded as Jay’s arm weaseled its way underneath her. Using it to tilt her body, he rolled her until she was facing him with her head on his shoulder. When her breath faltered, he froze.

Jay filled her world.
The up-close and personal view, his scent which smelled vaguely of mint and cold wind and something uniquely Jay, the feel of his chest rising and falling beneath her. It was all so painfully familiar and yet . . . completely different.

This wasn’t the same at all. He wasn’t trapping her, he was holding her. He wasn’t hurting her, he was comforting her. This was something entirely new and . . . sort of wonderful. When she relaxed into his body, Jay moved again, pulling the blankets around them and tucking them in. Wrapped up and snuggled into Jay’s side like that, Em felt warm for the first time in weeks. And, above her, she could have sworn she heard Jay sigh.

***

When Em woke again, the room was flooded with sunlight. Not the dim glow of the dawn hours they’d been waking to, lately. And no wonder, the sun was already beginning to show in their window. It must have been nearly eight o’clock. She’d slept in. Stranger still, Jay had slept in. And he was still asleep.

She could see why. Wrapped up in his arms, her arm draped loosely over his stomach and her head pillowed on his hard chest, she’d never felt more comfortable in her life. Warm, cozy . . . safe. Em couldn’t believe she’d managed it. To not only sleep with someone, but to feel safe doing it. She felt almost normal, and Jay had given that to her. Now, she wanted to give something back to him.

She didn’t have much time. It may have already been too late, but if she hurried, she just might make it to Sam’s in time to get them both something for breakfast. He could be the one to wake up to breakfast in bed for a change.

Leaving Jay’s embrace was one of the hardest things she’d had to do in a while, but her determination to do this for him eased the way. He was out cold. Didn’t even stir as she squirmed out of his arms. Throwing on an extra layer and her favorite pair of jeans, Em headed down to the street.

***

“Hey . . . you! What’s up?” Em was waiting for the light to change at the corner when Ace strolled up behind her. She’d told him her name endless times, but he just couldn’t seem to remember it. Actually, he couldn’t seem to remember much. Ace was like a walking talking anti-drug campaign.

“Hey.
Just going to get some breakfast. You wanna come?”

“Nah.
I’m just headed back. Late night. There was this awesome new band playing downtown at one of the clubs. They were awesome. You and Jay should totally come next time. They were . . . awesome.” Uh-huh. Too many fried brain cells on that one. “Where’s Jay anyway? You two are like, joined at the hip or some shit.”

Oh, yeah sure, he can remember Jay’s name no problem. “He slept in, so I’m going to get him something to eat.”

“Oh. That’s . . .” Ace’s ‘thinking face’ almost looked painful.

“Awesome?”

“Yeah.” Ace nodded at her, eyes huge like she’s just said the most insightful thing he’d ever heard and she couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer.

“Hey. You have a really pretty laugh . . . umm . . .”

“Em.”

“Yeah, right.
Em. Hey! You and Jay should totally come and check out this new band I saw downtown last night. They were awe-some!”

Having reached her daily limit of talking in circles, Em agreed and then excused herself as the light changed and the tiny white walking man lit up the sign on the opposite side of the street announcing she was clear to cross. Three steps into the crosswalk she heard the sound of a horn, the squeal of tires, the scent of burning rubber, and then . . . nothing.

***

Beeping, and bright lights, and what was that god-awful smell? It smelled like sickness and disinfectant with a slightly lemony overtone.
Oh, no. Oh, crap.

Em peeled her eyes to open despite the fact that they felt glued shut and blinked against the harsh light. She was lying on a long thin bed, staring up into a ceiling light, and she hurt.
Everywhere
. Her head throbbed, her throat ached, her left arm and leg burned like they were on fire, and her entire right side made the rest of it feel like nothing more than a paper cut.

“Oh, there you are, sweetie. Welcome back. You took quite a hit. I’m glad to see you’re awake so soon.”

A hit? So soon? What the . . .? “What time is it?”

“A little after noon.
You’ve been out for about four hours, but the meds will do that to you. Just try to relax, Emerson. You have a badly sprained ankle, and some pretty nasty road rash. Like I said, you took quite a hit and your right side . . . It’s a miracle there isn’t more damage . . . No broken ribs . . . Called the police.”

The nurse kept talking but only bits and pieces were reaching Em. She was stuck on the part where the woman in the puppy dog scrubs had called her Emerson.
Had known her name.

“How?”
The nurse cut off and Em realized she’d just interrupted. “How did you know my name?”

“Oh, well it was on your ID. The doctors found it in your back pocket when they brought you in. It’s standard procedure to check an unconscious patient’s pockets for identification when they’re brought in. Don’t worry, sweetie,
your clothes were saved for you, though they’re pretty torn up. We’ve already contracted your father. He’s on his way. I’m sure he can bring you something else to wear when you’re ready to go home.”

Ready to go home?
Try
never.
And where the heck had they gotten her ID from? She’d thrown that away with her wallet as soon as she’d stepped off of the . . .
Oh no, the train. The ticket
. She’d needed her ID for the ticket and when her bag dumped all over the floor, she’d shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans. The jeans she’d put on that morning
. No. No. No! Not now. Not like this.
They hadn’t called her father. Her father was dead. They’d called
him
.

“When did you call him?”

“Well, right after you arrived, I assume. Around . . .” she flipped through the chart at the end of Em’s bed, “eight-thirty.”

Four hours.
He’d
known where she was for almost four hour already.
He
wouldn’t have waited, either. She knew for a fact that
he
was on his way there the minute he hung up the phone. Groaning, Em buried her face in the pillow.
He’d
be there any time now. Why couldn’t the car have just killed her? It would have been better that way. She couldn’t face
him
again. She couldn’t.

“Don’t worry, Emerson, I’ll bring in some more pain medicine soon. This batch is starting to wear off.”

Em didn’t listen. Didn’t care. Didn’t even notice when the nurse left the room. She was too busy trying to figure out how the heck she was going to get out of there. As soon as the door clicked shut, Em pushed herself up to sitting until a nausea inducing bout of pain lanced through her, forcing her back down on the bed.

She didn’t have time for this. She needed to stop being such a
coward,
and suck it up. Gritting her teeth, she tried again. This time she got halfway up before she was stopped. Not by pain, but by the slight creak of the door opening. Her heart stopped beating. Her lungs stopped breathing. Her entire body froze. Until Jay stepped into the room.  The relief crashing over her, drove her back down onto the mattress for a second time.

“Jesus, Em.” Jay was at her side in an instant. “Are you all right?”

She shook her head no, still shaking too hard to speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“My name.”

“What?”

“They know my name. They know who I am.” Hysterics were making her nearly indecipherable but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about.

“Okay. Calm down. Where are you hurt, Em?”

“It’s not okay! They know who I am, Jay.”

“I got that, but—”

“They called him.” She wanted to scream it so that Jay would understand just how bad the situation was, but she could barely manage more than a whisper.

“Called
who
, Em?”

She looked him right in the eye, so there would be no mistaking her answer.
“
Him
.”

Jay stood there shaking his head, looking like
she’d just punched a hole through his chest. He knew. She wasn’t sure exactly when he’d figured it out, just that he had somewhere along the way. All she’d just done was verify it.

“Shit, Em.” He obviously had more to say, but he swallowed it hard, understanding that it wasn’t the time.

“He’ll be here any minute. We have to go. I have to get out of here.”

“Em, just wait.”
She was already trying to crawl her way out of the bed, but Jay held her back. “Just wait a second, would you?”

“I can’t!”

“Em.” He inhaled deeply, pushing aside whatever else was running through his mind, and forced himself to focus. “How bad are you hurt? Maybe leaving the hospital right now isn’t the best idea.”

“He.
Will. Kill. Me.” That got his attention. “Jay, if he finds me, he’ll kill me. Or worse . . . he won’t.”

All of the color drained from Jay’s face and she knew she’d made her point.

“Okay. Let’s get you out of here. Where are your clothes?”

“She said they saved them for me.”

Jay rushed over to the small wooden closet in the corner and checked the shelves. He turned back to her, starting to shake his head and his eyes lit up.

“There.” He grabbed a plastic bag out from under her bed and handed it to her.

Getting out of the bed—even with Jay’s help—hurt like crazy. Hell, breathing hurt like crazy. Movement of any kind was
excruciating
.

“Are you going to be okay in there?” Jay kicked open the bathroom door, since his arms were occupied trying to keep Em on her feet.

“I’ll be fine.”

“All right.
I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

Em lean against the wall and dumped the contents of the bag on the floor. Her t-shirt, sweat shirt, jeans, and bra, all littered the small black and white tiles. They were a mess—torn
and bloody—but still better than the paper gown she was currently wearing.

In her struggle to change her clothes—easier said than done in her condition—Em caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror over the small sink that made her breath catch. It took her a moment to recognize herself. How long had it been since she’d left home? She’d lost track somewhere along the way, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple weeks. She was startled by how much her appearance had changed. She’d definitely lost weight. Her cheeks seemed almost hollow, like they were sinking in on
themselves, her hair was dull, limp, and tangled, and dark circles ringed her eyes. She tried in vain to remember the last time she’d gotten a decent night’s sleep.