Stay(82)

I paced around the basement for a few minutes wanting to stretch my tight muscles. Being curled up in bed feeling sick caused my legs and back to become quite sore.

Satisfied that I stretched enough, I went back to my cot and slid Gone with the Wind out from under my pillow. I read another ten pages before the basement door opened. I shoved the book under the pillow so fast it bent the pages.

“It’s me,” Jackson said.

“Good,” I breathed. A smile immediately pulled up my lips. My heart swelled, and I wanted to be close to him, feeling his heart beat next to mine. “Phoebe’s sick.”

“I noticed.” He hurried down the stairs. “When I picked her up I could tell. She’s not herself.”

“Will Nate let her go to a doctor?”

Jackson cast his eyes down. He knew something, and he didn’t want to tell me. He walked over and stopped by the cot, sitting next to me. I scooted over to him, my heart speeding up at the touch of his skin. He slipped his fingers through mine and gently tugged my arm in his direction. I let my body fall and rested my head on his shoulder.#p#分页标题#e#

“What aren’t you telling me?” He heavily sighed and let go of my hand to shyly wrap his arm around me. His fingers hovered above my waist, waiting to see if I’d object before he placed his hand on me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, not wanting Jackson to tell me bad news anymore. I just wanted to sit like this.

“I told Nate she was sick.” He shook his head.

“And?” I asked, apprehension growing.

“He said that she was easy to replace. H-he doesn’t care. I’m sorry, Addie.”

“It’s not your fault,” I reminded him. We sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to Phoebe’s ragged breathing. “Thanks for the blanket and the book.”

Jackson’s hold on me tightened. “You’re welcome.”

I twisted toward him, looping my arm around his. “Can you stay down here with me?”

“I can.” He moved my hair over my shoulder. “For just a few minutes though. Nate is in the shower.” He looked up at the pipes that snaked along the ceiling. “You can tell when the water shuts off.”

“I kinda picked up on that,” I said with a yawn.

“Tired?”

“A little. I still feel kinda sick,” I admitted.

“Do you want to lie down? I can leave.”

“No,” I blurted. “I don’t want you to go.”

Jackson smiled. “Then I’ll stay.” He lifted his hand, extended it towards me, pulled it back, and then reached out again. His fingers were shaking when he put his hand on my back. Fear jolted through me as I got a flash of a client shoving his hand down the back of my pants. I took a steadying breath, reminding myself I was with Jackson, not a client.

I closed my eyes and put my head against his chest, listening to his heart beat. I remembered what he had said about being too old for clients. Did that mean he had been raped too? I hooked my other hand on his shoulder, turning into him.

“You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” His breath was warm on the back of my neck.

“Yes,” I answered and opened my eyes to look at Phoebe. “And not being able to do anything just makes it worse.”

“It does,” he agreed and hugged me tighter. His lips brushed against my skin and it didn’t abhor me. I felt safe, like nothing bad could touch me when Jackson was holding me. “I wish I could make her better.” He sighed. “I wish I could make all of this better.” He cautiously tightened the hug. I got a flash of the day Rosie died, remembered the instant comfort his embrace brought me. I pulled him a little closer to me, feeling his pulse bound through is body.

My heart began to beat a little faster. I loosened my grip on Jackson and looked up, bringing my face to his. He bent his head down until our noses touched.

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispered.

I put my hand over the bullet wound. “I know.”

He rested his forehead against mine. One hand gently cupped my face while the other moved to the small of my back, bringing me closer. He paused, making sure it wasn’t too much for me.

I curled my fingers, balling his shirt in my hand. “Jackson,” I breathed. I felt so deeply for him right then. Everything he’d been through … we’d been through … everything he risked for me. Tears welled in my eyes and my face broke.

“Adeline,” he whispered back, wiping away a renegade tear with his thumb. “Don’t cry. I promise, somehow it’ll be okay. Somehow, some way I’ll get you out of here.”