My heart drops even deeper into my stomach when I see Dad walk in.
“Where is he?” His voice is deep, angered, and intimidating. “Where the hell is that boy?”
I struggle to comprehend who he’s talking about. Does he know about Mom and Jasper? He surely couldn’t be this upset while looking for Talon.
“Who?” I mutter.
“Your brother. Where the hell is he?” He storms past me in his black suit and shiny shoes and approaches the front desk.
“Talon Porter.” I hear him say.
The receptionist says something and he gives a nod and heads in the direction I came from. I step back inside. My heart punching my chest as I try to catch my breaths. That’s when it happens, again.
Everything goes black.
The next thing I know I’m waking up alone in a bed similar to Talon’s in a dark room. The only light coming from the cracked door to the hallway. I take a few deep breaths and scoot myself up into the bed. Only I’m not alone.
I open my mouth to speak, but it’s so sticky—dry but wet at the same time.
“Here, drink this.” Jasper hands me a glass of water.
I take it and drink until it’s gone. “Why are you here?”
“I told you, I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“I told you I was fine. Why are you still here?” I hand the glass back to him. My words are faint and muddled. As much as I want to yell, I can’t.
“You’re not fine, B.”
“Please leave.” I’m desperate now. I turn onto my side and face the wall opposite of him. I curl up into the fetal position as my body begins to shiver.
I can hear him stepping closer until he’s in my view. Knelt down at my bedside with his chin on the bed, right beside my face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Please. I’m begging you to just leave me alone.”
“I didn’t sleep with your mom.” He speaks so casually as he lies to my face. “I’m not sure where any of that came from, but I never touched her.”
I roll over and face the other direction. Not even humoring him with a response.
There he is again.
“Your mom offered me a place to stay after my fight with Knox. I didn’t have a choice, so I took her up on it. I slept in a bedroom at the guesthouse. I didn’t intend on her staying there but then I found her crying on the porch, drunk off her ass. I helped her inside, and she passed out on the couch.”
“Yeah, sure.” I choke.
“Why would I lie to you?”
“Why wouldn’t you? Everyone else does.” I close my eyes and fight the urge to breakdown. “Aren’t you even going to ask me what happened out there?”
“No. Because I don’t care. You’re still you. Still the same pain in the ass you were before.” He smiles. Halting my anger and allowing me to smile back.
“It takes one to know one.” I hold my smile briefly, but it quickly diminishes when I remember Dad’s grand entrance.
“Talon.” I gasp, trying to spring myself from the bed. I’m halted by the tube in my arm. I rustle around hoping I’ll free myself, knowing that I won’t. “I have to see him.”
“Woah, calm down, B. Your brother is fine.” Jasper guides me back into the bed. His touch calming me.
“But, my dad. He was angry…”
Jasper cuts me off, “Your dad left. Your aunt and uncle are with him now.”
Aunt Kelly. I never called her.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. He’s going to be ok, B. I promise.”
“Please, take me to him. I really need to see him.”
Jasper looks around the empty room, contemplating a plan of action. “Ok. I think this thing moves.” He grabs hold of the IV drip. “You sure do like to cause trouble, don’t you?” He grins.
“If it means making sure my brother is safe, yes.” I begin to stand but start feeling lightheaded.
“Slowly.” Jasper takes my hand and helps me to my feet.
“Wait.” I stop in front of him as he braces his arm around me. “I need to thank you.”
“For what?” He shrugs, as if he really has no idea why I’d be thankful.
“Being here when no one else is.” I lift my shoulder toward my cheek and give him a half-hearted smile.
“You don’t have to thank me, Queen B.”
“Yes, I do. I don’t know why you are so kind to me. I certainly don’t deserve it, but you are. and I’m…” I stutter as I search for the words, “grateful.”
“You deserve so much more than you think. I just hope one day you see it.” He pulls me into his chest, and I melt in his arms.
“What happened last night?’ I ask him. No expectations behind it, just wanting the truth.
“Nothing, I swear. I needed a place to stay and your mom let crash at the guesthouse. She was drinking heavily and passed out on the couch. B,” he pulls back and looks in my eyes, “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Jasper isn’t who I thought he was. He puts on this tough guy facade, but I see more, so much more. He’s got a huge heart, and he has the ability to love fiercely.
I don’t think he’d ever hurt me.
“I believe you.” I whisper, pulling away to look in his eyes. “About my mom. I believe you.”
He pulls me back and a switch goes off, or comes on rather. A light in my darkness.
If you’ve never tried to sneak through a hospital with an IV drip trailing behind you and a boy who thinks he can duck down and hide with the big pole sticking out like a sore thumb, then you haven’t lived. As we round the corner, Jasper pulls me down, trying to hide us, almost tipping the thing over. I’m laughing my ass off, and it feels good, it feels really good. I feel more alive in this moment than I have since I was a kid. It may be the mood stabilizer, but I think it contributes to the guy who walked into my life and never left. One who saw me at my worst and stayed by my side.
As we are slouched down behind a food cart, waiting for the nurses to walk by, I turn to Jasper. “What did they tell you about me?”
It’s taking Jasper far too long to respond, which gives me the inkling that he knows exactly what happened an hour ago.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head, avoiding eye contact.
“My dad was here, he had to have said something.” I turn his face with my leashed hand. “Look at me.”
Jasper turns his head, and I see it. I see myself. My reflection. Only this girl isn’t broken. She’s put back together.
“We can talk about it later.”
“I’m unstable. I’ll say it.”
He takes my head in his hands. My flawed face, my damaged interior, expelling out into his grasp. “You are perfect.” He presses his lips to mine. Calming my every anxiety.
For a moment, I believe him. For a split second, I’m not the girl who opens her eyes every morning to face anxiety in hopes of making it through each traumatic episode without losing consciousness. I’m not the girl harboring secrets with the knowledge that money does in fact fix everything—at least that's what I’ve learned. I’m also not the tortured twelve-year-old crying on the steps as she watches her parents battle it out over the most obsolete nonsense. I’m just me. Smart, intact, and beautiful—at least on the outside, that’s what he sees anyways. He doesn’t know what I pocket in my soul.