“That could work…” I ponder, then check my watch again impatiently. “It isn’t up to me. I’m not her keeper, so you’ll have to ask her when she wakes up. Speaking of, I?
??m going to check on her. Something could have happened.”
“Owen, she’s fine,” Jaxon tells me again and all it does is piss me off.
“I know!” I snap, and everyone in the kitchen stares at me in shock. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry.” I try to relax by taking a few deep breaths. “I need to check on her.” I’m not going to give an explanation. I’m worried. I can be worried, can’t I? She’s only just escaped a horrible person, and she’s in a new place. She’s had to chop off her hair and meet new people. What if … I don’t know, what if she tries something?
Fuck.
I fly off the barstool and run down the hall, panicked. Why didn’t I think of that sooner? Goddamn it, Jolie. “Please, please, please,” I mumble under my breath as I run to her room. I can’t lose her too. She’s the one I can actually be there for. I can save her. I couldn’t save Annabeth, but I can save Jolie.
My feet slide against the floor as I try to stop. “Shit,” I mumble under my breath when my hand slips on the doorknob, and I start to fall. “Fuck,” I groan as my shoulder slams against the floor. I lay there for a minute, staring up at the vaulted ceiling and glittering chandelier. Damn, that hurt.
“I heard a crash. Is everything okay?” Heaven says, looking down at me with a teasing grin.
“Shut up.” I lift up my hand, and he helps me to my feet.
My back protests, my hip throbs, and my shoulder is on fire. I’ve never felt like I was in my forties until now.
“You good, old man?”
I place my hand on my lower back and stretch, moaning when something pops into place. “I’ll show you old. Get out of my face,” I say, unthankful for him helping me up.
“Grumpy,” Heaven says, narrowing his eyes before turning to walk away. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“I didn’t say thank you,” I say.
“You don’t have to,” Heaven huffs, tilting his chin in the air as he saunters down the hall toward the kitchen where the food is. Not surprised. All he does is eat and sleep.
Giving myself one last shake, I knock on Jolie’s door. I place my ear against the wall, waiting for her to answer me. “Jolie? It’s me. You okay?”
Silence.
“Jolie, I’m coming in, okay?” I warn her just in case she’s naked or something. I turn the handle and open the door slowly, careful so it doesn’t creak. The room is dark, the blinds are shut, and the fan is on the highest speed. It feels cooler in here than it does in the hallway. I can’t see much since the blinds blackout the entire room. I do my best to tiptoe to the bathroom to flip on the light.
I check the area to make sure she isn’t laying dead in the tub or the shower, then walk back to the bedroom and breathe a sigh of relief when I see her in the bed. She’s cuddled up in the middle of the mattress, comforter to her chin, and holding a pillow to her chest.
“Thank God,” I sigh, thankful she’s alive.
Jaxon is right. She’s okay. I was being paranoid. I take a seat in the chair in the corner and close my eyes by tilting my head back. I try to think about why I’m so protective of her, and there is a list of reasons, but the main one?
There’s something about her. She’s woken up my heart, my body, my mind. I know no longer feel dead inside. I’m not sure if it’s because she looks at me for guidance, and I feel like I finally have purpose, but to what extent? What’s this mean?
It can’t be her.
Not after all this time, not after what she’s been through, it can’t be her I choose to move on with.
I lean my elbows against my knees and fist my hands together, placing them against my mouth as I concentrate. I stare at her face, her features, how small and delicate she is, yet strong. She doesn’t think she is, but she’s a damn statue in a windstorm, and she’s standing tall.
She mumbles in her sleep, something inaudible that I can’t understand. I scoot forward, enthralled, worried, guilty for watching her sleep, but happy. She has no idea how nervous I was to come in here to find her dead.
Saddest part, I wouldn’t have been surprised. She’s been through too much not to contemplate suicide. I thought about it after Annabeth died. I lost so much at once, and it was more than fucking pain.
Living was torture, but no matter how much I thought about ending it all, I couldn’t because I deserved the agony.
I hope she’s stronger than me. I hope she doesn’t punish herself and instead decides to move on with her life. Seeing her survive, running from the man I killed, it’s inspirational. She makes me want things. Things I’ve blocked out of my life for far too long. Things that I told myself I’m never allowed to want again.
She makes me want.