Middle of Knight (Jack & Jill 2)

“Just like that? Whatever it is that has you so ‘fucked up’ is just going to disappear in two weeks?”

Jackson stared at her with determination etched along his tensed brows, eyes narrowed as he nodded.

She turned, waiting for him to release her from his prison. Jackson let his hands drop to his sides. Ryn opened the door and climbed in the driver’s seat.

“Two weeks,” she said and shut the door.

*

Denial comforted Jillian on the days that AJ slept eighteen to twenty hours. She convinced herself the body heals while sleeping and AJ’s had a lot of healing to do.

“I’m tired.” He yawned as she made him breakfast at eleven thirty.

“You just woke up twenty minutes ago.” She slid him a plate with toast and butter. That was her specialty as long as the settings didn’t get bumped on the toaster.

AJ looked down at the table and slowly moved his hands toward the plate.

“Can you see it?”

He blinked several times. “Yes, I can fucking see it!” AJ clenched his fists at the sides of his head.

Jillian took a step back. Her heart pounded against her chest. The rage hadn’t reared its face for quite some time. The personality changes seemed to be non-existent since the radiation.

“AJ—”

“SHUT. UP!” He hammered his fist into the plate, cracking it into several large pieces.

Jillian flinched. His behavior frightened her the most because she knew no matter what he did, she wouldn’t fight back.

He slammed his fist down again sending toast and pieces of plate flying.

“WHY…” BANG “…CAN’T…” BANG “…YOU…” BANG BANG BANG “…LEAVE ME THE FUCK…” BANG “…ALONE?”

The next bang came from the front door slamming against the wall like it had been knocked off its hinges.

Silent tears rolled down her face as Jackson stormed around the corner.

“Go home, Jill,” he said, narrowing his eyes at AJ who stared at his bloodied fist covered in toast and embedded with bits of ceramic from the shattered plate.

The vacant look in AJ’s eyes would haunt her, maybe forever.

“I’m not—”

“Jillian, I swear … I will physically remove you from this house if you don’t leave right now.”

The need to wrap her arms around him and promise that everything would be okay remained locked inside the walls of fear. Fear that it wouldn’t ever. Be. Okay. Again. Instead, she walked away.

*

That stranger had taken a vacation. AJ had hoped for good. But there he sat at the table, sweaty and bloodied with rage. His head jackhammered with pain as waves of nausea grew with intensity. He scooted his chair out, but before he could stand, his body buckled over his legs. He vomited the pills and water Jillian gave him when he woke up. The next round consisted of bile until all that remained were dry heaves, aching stomach muscles, and a burning throat.

A hand rested on his shoulder as his eyes watered with more pain. “What can I do for you, Sarge?”

AJ had an answer to that question, but he couldn’t speak.

“Water?”

AJ nodded as Jackson handed him a towel.

The man who, by all rights, hated him, cleaned up his vomit and helped him to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to have Jillian come back over to help you shower?”

AJ shook his head.

“Okay. I’ll be out here.”

AJ nodded as Jackson shut the door. By the time he undressed and stepped into the hot shower, he could barely stand. Choosing to find the floor of the shower before it found him, he slid down the tile wall. Resting his head on his bent knees, he let the water wash away everything. He chased away the loneliness by feeling Jillian’s hands on his head like a ghost. There would never be the right words to describe that touch. It brought him back from the deepest depths of pain and darkness. Would she ever know that? Would she ever know she loved him at his very worst? There was so much to say, but not enough time; there was never enough time.

By the time he toweled off and dressed, he needed another shower. Busting up his breakfast and blowing up at Jillian for absolutely no reason, expended his allotment of energy for the day.

“Do you need anything?” Jackson asked as AJ lumbered to his bed, collapsing into a partial sitting position at the head of it.

“Wwaor …” AJ closed his eyes. Anger. Humiliation. Rock bottom.

“I’ll get it.”

Jackson returned with more water.

AJ wrapped both hands around the glass. He didn’t trust his body. It seemed to be failing him.

“It’s affecting your speech?”

AJ nodded.

“Did it just start?”

AJ nodded. “Y-es.” He felt like a child trying to say his first word. And if life weren’t already cruel enough, tears pricked his eyes because even his emotions were out of his control.

Jackson narrowed his eyes a bit. “Are you done?”

AJ stared at the glass of water still half-full.