Paper Dolls (23 page)

I knew that. He was sensitive to not going so fast physically because of his illness. But it was still frustrating. So very frustrating.

I buried my nose into his neck and sighed. He smelled so good. And felt so warm. “Can’t we stay right here and never leave?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered. “I want to. But I have work to do. And you have a sister to go make up with.”

I pouted. “She can wait a day or two.”

“Aria…”

I sighed. He was right. I had to face her soon.

I opened the door to my apartment with trepidation. The only sound I heard was the slight creaking of the old hinges as I stuck my head into an empty living room. “Salem?”

No one called back.

My body flooded with relief. She wasn’t home. I didn’t have to face her and deal with all this crap that was piling up between us. At least not yet, anyway.

Guilt flooded in over the relief like a wave cancelling out a footprint in the sand. What kind of sister was I that I was
glad
that she wasn’t home? What if something had happened to her? What if she needed my help and I had no idea where to look for her? Where did she disappear to all the time?

She’s with Clay. Watching him. Following him.

She wouldn’t dare. Would she? She couldn’t still be doing that, even after I told her to leave him alone. Right?

11

A siren clanged though my mind. I startled, instinctively grabbing my phone and shutting off the offending alarm before slumping back, blinking, still trying to get my bearings as my memories flicked into place.

I was on my couch, in my apartment.

I hadn’t been sleeping well lately so I must have dozed off.

Salem? Was she home? I called out her name but heard nothing in response. She still hadn’t returned. It was the next day and Salem still hadn’t returned. Where the hell was she?

Something else was nagging at my subconscious. My alarm. I knew I set my alarm for some reason…

What time was it? Crap, what time was it?

I stared at the clock on my phone. It was 6 p.m. Why had I set my alarm, again?

The therapy session. Clay would be here soon to pick me up for the next therapy session. I groaned. And I wasn’t even ready yet.

I ran around my bathroom and bedroom, brushing my teeth, washing my face, putting on deodorant, and slipping on ballet flats. All the while my eyes kept darting over to Salem’s corner of the room. Her bag was still on the chair on her side, clothes thrown all over it. She had never gotten round to unpacking properly and I had tired of asking her to. Did her side look different from earlier? Had she been home and I slept through it?

No time to analyse it now. I grabbed my bag and glanced at the clock at my bedside. It was already quarter past six.

Clay was late. He was never late. I checked my phone. There were no messages from him or missed calls. If he was going to be late then he would have let me know. Right? My stomach tensed. Something was wrong.

I called Clay’s number, chewing my lip as the ring tone sounded in my ear.
Come on, pick up. Pick up.

The phone clicked and I heard his voice. For a second relief flooded through me until I realised it was his pre-recorded message. I’d gone through to voicemail. Confusion gripped me as I hung up. Where was he?

Maybe he’s driving right now. He’d never pick up the phone while he was driving. I walked over to the curtains, peering out onto the street. The familiar red Mustang wasn’t there. Just my old Ford parked out front. Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe I was meant to meet Clay at Dr Bing’s office.

Yes, that’s it. God, Aria, get it together.

If I drove to Dr Bing’s office, then I’d only be five or so minutes late. But I didn’t know where my damn car keys were. I swear Salem had hidden them from me. It was something she used to do when we were kids; hide things like keys and books and homework.

Looks like I’d have to jog to her office. Then I’d be more like twenty minutes late. I’d leave a message on Clay’s phone letting him know I’d be there soon.

I walked back into the living room and stopped dead.

My car keys were right there in the middle of the kitchen bench. I swear they weren’t there before. Was Salem here?

Suddenly my neck prickled as if I was being watched. I glanced around me, expecting someone to be standing behind me. But there was no one there. I hurried over to the window and tugged the curtains closed. The feeling still wouldn’t go away.

I grabbed my car keys off the bench. “Salem?” I called out. But there was no answer.

Stupid, Aria
. You just hadn’t noticed the keys before, that’s all. Salem must have come home sometime when you weren’t here. Stop freaking yourself out. Besides, you’re late.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” I said as I tumbled into Dr Bing’s office six minutes late.

Dr Bing stood up and held out her hand. “Aria, good to see you again.”

I shook her hand and glanced round her office. “Clay’s not here yet?”

“No. But he often comes from his mother’s and at this time of day the traffic can be unpredictable on the M1. Please, take a seat.”

I glanced back at the door again, willing Clay to come through the door now. But he didn’t. I felt uneasy being here alone with his shrink but it would be rude to leave.

I walked over to the couch and sat. I checked my phone again − no missed calls or messages − before slipping it on the side table.

“Do you want a drink of water? Coffee?”

“No, thanks.”

I thought Dr Bing may take the armchair as she did last time. Instead she strode over to the couch and seated herself right next to me. I gave her a tense smile as she arranged herself comfortably with one leg crossed over the other and her arm out along the back of the couch, facing towards me. “Clay tells me you have a twin sister.”

Clay had been talking about Salem? What had he told Dr Bing? I studied her but her face gave away nothing. “Yes.”

“Tell me about Salem.”

I flinched.
I
didn’t tell her Salem’s name. “What has Clay told you?”

“I’m more interested in hearing what
you
have to say about her.”

What was that supposed to mean? “I don’t see how this has anything to do with Clay.”

“I understand that she doesn’t like Clay. How does that make you feel?”

I felt my defences automatically coming up. Even though we had been fighting lately she was still my blood and I would defend her to the death. “She’s just trying to protect me. She’s just doing what she thinks is right. It can’t be easy for her coming back into my life and finding she’s been replaced.”

“Has she been replaced?”

“No one could ever replace Salem.”

“But you have Clay now.”

“What I have with Clay is…different.” But Salem didn’t know that. My heart began to soften. What a horrible sister I’ve been. I hadn’t even thought about what she may have been feeling to react so badly towards Clay. Everything she had been doing was a cry for my attention. The least I could do was to be more understanding. I had to find her. I had to make things right. “Oh, God…I’ve been so selfish.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I keep putting myself first when I should be putting her…” I trailed off. Oh, Dr Bing was good. She had me spilling my guts before I realised what I was saying. Well, I wasn’t saying any more. I crossed my arms over my chest.

“So you think that you should be putting her first?”

I remained silent, my eyes on the door. Come on, Clay. Where the hell are you?

“What if that’s not the choice you have to make?”

My gaze snapped back to Dr Bing. She was just sitting there watching me with an unreadable look on her face. Okay, Dr Bing, I’ll bite. “What do you mean?”

“What if you don’t have to choose between Clay and Salem?”

“Then what would I choose?”

“Choose you.”

This was why I didn’t like therapists. All this confusing Confucius babble. I narrowed my eyes at her. “I thought this session was for Clay?”

“It is.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m the one being analysed?”

She tilted her head, her almond-shaped eyes trained on me like lasers. “What are you afraid I might find?”

My skin broke out in goosebumps. What was I afraid of?

The shrill ring of my mobile made me jump. Thank God. Clay. Finally. “Excuse me,” I said as I grabbed the phone, clattering across the table as it vibrated.

It wasn’t Clay.

It was a private number.

I paused for a second for I answered it. “Hello?”

“Ms Aria Adams?” An unfamiliar voice came on the line.

“Yes,” I swallowed hard, a creeping feeling coming over me. “Who is this?”

“This is Nurse O’Shea from the Sunshine Coast Hospital. I’m sorry to tell you this. There’s been an accident.”

12

Please, God. Please. Let everything be okay.

I drove like a madwoman all the way to the hospital, speeding, which I never do. But at that moment, I didn’t care.

At the hospital I flung the car into the first parking spot I could find and raced inside, slamming into the front desk in my haste. The receptionist, a bespectacled woman with a pinched mouth, continued to type, the only other thing moving were her pupils, to focus on me. “I’m Aria Adams. Someone called me. My boyfriend Clay Jagger was admitted in here a few hours ago.”

Her eyes flicked to her computer and she continued typing. Did she even hear me? Did she even care? I was about to snap at her when she said, “Clay Jagger. Room 408.”

“Is he okay?”

“He was in a minor car accident but he’ll be fine. Room 408. Fourth floor.”

I almost leaned over the desk and hugged her. But I doubted very much that she would appreciate it so I just thanked her and sped to the elevators.

Room 408. Fourth floor.

I found his room easily enough. When I pushed through the door, Clay was sitting up in a hospital bed in a flimsy hospital gown. He had a bandage wrapped around his head and a few raw gashes and bruises on his arms, but other than that, he looked okay.

He frowned when he saw me. “Aria?”

“Oh my God. Clay.” I rushed to his side and gave him the most ginger hug I could, even though I wanted to squeeze the damn life out of him.

I heard him laugh. “Come on, angel. I’m not going to break.”

I held on to him tighter. He nestled his face in my neck and inhaled. “God, you smell good.”

I pulled back and he made some room for me on the edge of the bed. I traced his forehead alongside the bandage.

“I’m okay, angel.”

“They said you were in a car accident. What the hell happened?”

His mouth pinched for a mere second. Or was I imaging it? “I’m not too sure. Something went wrong with Sally and I just…lost control. Ended up in a ditch.”

“Jesus,” I breathed.

“I’m okay. Just some scrapes and bruises. And a concussion.” He indicated the bandage on his head.

My eyes almost bugged out of my head. “Oh my God.”

“They want to keep me in here for observation overnight. But I should be free to go tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay here with you. As long as they let me.”

“Actually, I was hoping you’d do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Could you stop by my apartment and grab a toothbrush and a few things?”

“Of course.”

I stepped inside Clay’s apartment and locked the door behind me with the spare key he had given me off his key ring. His dining table, which he said doubled as a work space, had papers and pens and pencils about the place. I knew I probably should just grab what he needed and get out but curiosity took hold of me. I walked over to the table, glancing around as I did in case I was being watched.

Silly, I know. I was there alone. But I still felt a little guilty thrill as I surveyed his papers. It looked like he was starting some sketches. One caught my eye, a half-finished drawing of a woman, thin and pale with long red hair and a blue mask across the upper part of her face showing just her grey eyes. Her features were pulled into grim determination, her palms out and some kind of blue magic was pouring from her hands. I guessed she was supposed to be some kind of superhero.

Maybe I was reading into it too much, but this cartoon looked…like me.

I read the title scrawled in the top right-hand corner.
Adventures of Aria: The Temple of Yesterdays.

This
was
me. Clay had made a character from me? He had made a comic from me?

I couldn’t help the grin that formed on my face. Clay was drawing a character based on
me
. I traced my image sake, my heart fluttering. He really cared about me, didn’t he? He even found a way to weave me into his work.

When was he going to tell me? Maybe this was supposed to be a surprise. Well, I wouldn’t say anything to him.

What if he actually got this comic published? I would be immortalised in ink. How fun. His love for me there on printed paper for the world to see. My smile slid off my face. What if someone recognised me? What if they came looking for me to find Salem?

I shook my head as I turned my back on the table. Don’t be silly, Aria. That was three years ago. And it’s just a cartoon, not a mugshot.

I tried the door to his bathroom but it was locked from this side. I’d have to go through his bedroom.

His bed was unmade. There were a few clothes about the place. I stopped in his bedroom, chewing my lip. The place was messier than the last time. Dr Bing said that keeping things tidy was an indicator of how
‘
okay’ he was. If things began to slip in his head then so would his environment.

I began to feel a little uneasy. Clay had said that his accident was an accident, but…what if he was beginning to relapse? What if he saw something on the road that wasn’t there? What if he heard something that wasn’t real that caused him to run off the road?