Page 18 of Trustfall
“Would you have left on your own volition?”
“No.” She sneered.
“Exactly. You were dead on your feet.”
“That still doesn’t give you the right.”
“No, it doesn’t, but then, what you needed was solidified when I found you sleeping propped up against a storage rack in a goddamn linen closet.” I knew my tone was harsh, but I wanted her to understand that my intentions were genuine, even if my words carried an edge.
“And you didn’t think to simply just let me be, or gosh, I don’t know, maybe mind your own damn business?”
“Well, excuse me for caring about your well-being.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” She scoffed. “As if you’ve ever once cared about my ‘well-being,’” she said, making air quotes.
“That’s not true. I?—”
“Stop with the lies, Jameson. I don’t have time for this.”
“I only did what I thought was best.”
“Best for whom?”
“You, of course.”
“And what about my dad? I’m all he has and vice versa.” She stifled a sob yet remained steadfast, with irritation pulsating off her in unforgiving waves. “You had no right to bring me here.”
“Lily was worried about you, and I just wanted to help. The hospital has my number should anything change.”
“You don’t understand. It doesn’t matter how long they keep him sedated. I know it’s to help him heal, but I need to be there for him. I have to be. He needs to know I’m there by his side. He’s my everything, Jameson; he’s all I have.” Her voice cracked with each word; her emotions were raw and unfiltered, spilling out in disjointed fragments.
I pulled her into my arms, one hand gently cradling the back of her head while the other swept over her back, and her fingers clutched my T-shirt in a desperate grip.
“You’re not alone,” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You’ve got me.”
Her shift in stance wasn’t immediate; however, once my words fully registered, she leaned back and looked at me curiously before she loosened her grip on my T-shirt. For a brief minute, I allowed myself to think her feelings for me were beginning to thaw. Yet, like most storms, they were often unpredictable and chartered off course in the blink of an eye because the next time her hazel-hued eyes met mine, I knew the wedge between us had grown significantly.
“Go to hell!” she whisper-shouted.
I looked down and caught sight of Lily’s number smudged on my arm.
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath to an otherwise empty space as Ari blew through the door faster than I could react, and if I were being honest with myself, I knew better than to follow.
Chapter Eight
Arizona
“Dad, you haven’t even been home from the hospital for a full day. You need to slow down,” I pleaded.
“The Christmas tree won’t decorate itself.”
“And I don’t want you to land back in the hospital.”
He had spent over a week there, and while his recovery improved daily—partly due to the sessions in the compression chamber to help his lungs—taking it slow wasn’t in the man’s nature, even when the team of doctors advised him that his body needed rest.
But I knew why decorating was so important.
It was the elephant in the room.
