I started the car and shifted it into gear, taking off down the street without looking back at Sax. If I looked back, I’d want to stay, and if I stayed…there were so many things I was hiding from him that I could not let him find out about.
***
I called in sick the next day—partly because I couldn’t face Sax, and I also just felt like a day in bed. I snuggled under my covers listening to the sound of Nelson getting ready for work and then leaving. I reached over and switched on the TV, unable to stand the silence.
My phone buzzed for the fourth time in ten minutes. I picked it up and checked the screen. Sax again.
I’m worried about you. Please let me come over.
Oh God. The last thing I needed was him here. I texted a response.
I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just got the flu or something. I’ll call you later.
I let the phone fall out of my hands and onto the floor. Rolling over, I turned over my pillow, which was soaked with tears. I’ll be fine. I just need some space to get through this.
Closing my eyes, I hoped like hell that was true.
***
“Mom,” I sob.
She looks at me. Even through the tears, there was no mistaking the coldness of her expression. Her steely gaze held mine as she pushed a loose strand of rusty blonde hair from her face.
Three weeks had passed since Pete had died. Social services had finally decided it was safe for me to return home. I don’t kn
ow how they came to that decision—and I wished they had kept me in the group home—but apparently I didn’t get any say.
Mom blamed me for his death. I blamed myself too. If only I’d gotten off my ass and taken him to the shop. I’d have done anything to be able to go back and change things. I was having nightmares every night. I kept seeing him everywhere.
“What?” Her voice holds no emotion. “What do you want me to say, Mikayla? Do you want me to pretend this wasn’t your fault so you can feel better?”
“My fault?” I snarked. “How about you take some responsibility, Mom? It was your fault we were in that stupid group home in the first place. And you haven’t changed at all. How long will it be till I’m shipped off again?” I asked, motioning toward the half empty bottle of gin that sat next to her.
My heart thumping out a frantic beat like it was trying to leave my chest. God, I hadn’t had a nightmare in a couple years. Shaking and trying to calm my breathing, I reached for my phone. It was just after three, but not only that, the message I had typed to Sax was still sitting there, unsent.
“Shit,” I muttered as someone pounded on the front door. That must’ve been what woke me. Grabbing my robe I threw it on and headed for the door and wrenched it open, squinting against the intrusion of daylight.
Sax.
“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly.
“You missed rehearsal.” He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, a concerned look on his face. “You told me once if you don’t show up for rehearsal I should come looking for your roomie, Nelson.”
“No, you said that to me,” I grumbled. “Do you want to come in?” I stood back and let him through the door. His hand brushed past my bare leg, making me shiver.
“You’ll catch a cold,” he murmured softly.
“I was in bed with the electric blanket on,” I replied, a small smile playing on my lips.
“Then let’s go back there.”
I took his hand and led him into my room. Shutting the door behind him, I moved around the bed and shrugged off my robe, climbing under the covers. He unzipped his jacket and laid it over my dresser.
“What’s going on? Are you sick?” he asked. He pulled back the covers and climbed in next to me, pulling me into his arms.
I closed my eyes and focused on his fingers as they drew circles on my back. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. I wasn’t. But I would be. Eventually.
“No you’re not. Talk to me, M.”