Now or Never(49)
Grabbing the first pair of pants and shirt she laid her hands on, Em flew across the hall and burst into the bathroom without bothering to knock. Ashlyn was on her knees, curled over the toilet bowl, but Em’s sudden appearance landed her flat on her ass.
“Whoa.”
“Sorry. So sorry, Ash. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Ashlyn got to her feet, flushing the toilet in the process and turned on the sink. “Where’s the fire?”
“I’m so late for work. I have to—”
“No, you’re not.” Ash snapped off the faucet and snagged the towel off the wall.
“What? I was supposed to be there—”
“I know. I heard your alarm go off.”
“Really? I didn’t.” Em hugged the clothes to her chest and shifted toward the shower, hoping Ash would take the hint. She didn’t.
“I shut it off for you.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
After rehanging the hand towel, Ashlyn folded her arms and adopted her I-mean-business-face. “Em. You’re exhausted. Emotionally and physically. You need a break.”
“I need to work. I need the money.” Even if Jay refused to take another cent, she had her own expenses to cover, and she’d just spent her entire paycheck.
“Don’t worry about it. My parents pay the rent on this place, and I make more than enough to keep us both drowning in ice cream and chick flicks for as long as it takes. I called Bart this morning, told him you were taking a few mental health days.”
It was a fact, kindness could break a heart just as effectively as pain.
“Ash . . .”
“Don’t start. And you are not getting in that shower before me. I do have to work because if I lose this job my dad will totally kill me. I still owe him for the repairs on Harrison.”
Em eyed the toilet, cautiously. “Are you sure you should be working today?”
“It’s just a mild case of food poisoning. I have a sensitive stomach. Not contagious and I’m already starting to feel better, so no worries.” Ashlyn shooed Em from the bathroom and shut the door.
Heading back into her room, she dumped the haphazard outfit she’d collected on top of the dresser and crawled back into bed. It was nearly lunch time and she still felt completely drained. Maybe a mental health day was just what she needed. Or two. Or twenty.
Despite how exhausted she felt, though, dread kept her from falling back to sleep. Images of Jay—vacant and bleeding—were permanently seared into her brain. Fear eclipsed every other emotion vying for the spotlight. She couldn’t lose him. Not like that. But what could she do? Give him a little money for food? Pay the heating bill? She’d done everything she could. That just left everything she couldn’t.
She couldn’t make his father go away. She couldn’t make him see what she saw in him. Make him understand how much she needed him. How he was nothing like that monster at all. That the only time she ever felt safe was with him. She couldn’t make him feel safe, though. Couldn’t protect him the way he protected her. She couldn’t even be there for him when he needed her.
Em’s eyes roamed the ceiling above her, searching for flaws. Cracks in the smooth white surface like the ones that ran through her. She didn’t find any. That little voice found her, though. It was always with her. Haunting her thoughts. Dancing around her mind, taunting her, berating her, condemning her. Making sure she knew exactly where each and every one of her cracks laid.
You’re useless.
A coward.
Why would anyone ever want you?
You’re no good to anyone.
You can’t even take care of yourself, how do you expect to take care of someone else?
More trouble than your worth.
Pathetic.
Worthless.
Damaged.
Broken.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Jay
“Where the fuck is she?” Days without Em were like days without sunlight. They made Jay irritable and cranky, something Sahara hadn’t failed to point out more than once. “It’s been three damn days. I get that she’s pissed, but—”
“She’s taking a break.” Ashlyn set down the pile of menus she was carrying and collected four plastic cups.
“A break?” Jay relieved her of two of them and followed her over to the soda fountain.
“Some mental health days.”
Mental health days. Evidently, Jay made her crazy. Not unreasonable since he made himself that way half the time.
“But she’s okay? She’s not sick or anything?” As long as she hadn’t caught some version of the plague—because little else could keep Em from showing up for work, besides Ashlyn, apparently—he could suck it up and deal with the fallout of his decisions.