Page 28 of Before the Bond
The difference was this time, my jaw ached from how hard I'd been clenching it.
“Have you seen him lately?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice low, but it was impossible. “He can barely stand up.”
“Just do what you can.”
“I know there’s something,” I said. “And you’re hiding something, and it’s hurting him.”
Donovan shifted his weight from one foot to another. He dragged a hand through the back of his hair.
“We’ve all done it before,” Donovan said. “Do your job the best you can, and we’ll do ours.”
Jake had little in the way of answers, too. The few moments he was calm enough to talk, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about his condition.
Today, his body sank into his bed like it was made out of liquid. He angled his neck toward the window, but he couldn’t turn it fully.
“How are the flowers today?” he asked.
“Lovely,” I reassured him. “The fountain’s crap, though.”
Jake normally laughed, but this time he only faintly grinned.
“Olivia?”
“Yes, Jake?”
He parted his lips, paused, and thought carefully. He opened his mouth again.
“I’m going to be okay,” he said.
Something tightened in my chest. My body stiffened. I tried not to show it. I hated that I was out of options.
It’s not fair…
I noticed Jake staring at me in concern. I forced a smile.
“I know,” I said. “You’ve never been one to let this condition kick you down.”
Jake nodded. He then settled deeper into his pillow and fell back asleep.
One afternoon, I lingered outside Caleb Ashwood’s study.
I contemplated if I really wanted to do it. Donovan already disappointed me. Jake was too weak to push. Caleb was the outlier. The only one who might actually talk to me.
I steeled myself and knocked.
“Come in.” Caleb’s voice sounded absent.
The study was similar to the other rooms of the house: wooden accents, patterned carpets, warm-colored art.
A tapestry of a bird stared back at me, a little too unsettlingly. I turned away from it.
Caleb was at the desk when I knocked — business papers in front of him, something he appeared to be reading, though he looked up immediately, like part of him was always listening for the hallway.
“Olivia,” he said.
I stayed where I was.
“I need to talk to you about Jake,” I said.
