Page 59 of Jameson’s Salvation

“Oh, good you’re awake,” a woman’s voice filled the room. “I’m McKenna.”

My eyes went to the open door and there McKenna stood. My height, but that’s where the similarities ended. We were opposites, she had long wavy brown hair to my blonde. Light brown eyes that sparkled to my plain green, and she had flawless skin. She fit Nixon perfectly.

Sweet Jesus, someone kill me now.

“Hey.”

I tried to sit up but she stopped me.

“Please don’t get up.” Her hands were waving in front of her and she added, “Jameson will kill me.”

“Really, I’m fine. And if I’m honest, I’m kinda tired of lying down.”

McKenna smiled and the subtle movement made her even more beautiful.

Forget sitting up. I wanted to lie back down and pull the covers over my head so she wouldn’t see what a mess I was. I didn’t need a mirror to know I looked like a wet cat that had been dragged through the mud before it was plunged into a pit of horse shit.

Could my life get worse?

“I’m running to Procolinos to get dinner. Jameson asked me to pick you up some shampoo and stuff while I was out. I thought I’d check and see if you were awake before I left.”

My stomach took the opportunity to grumble at the mention of food and why not? Nothing like weird stomach noises when meeting your friend’s very pretty girlfriend for the first time while you’re sitting in rumpled clothes looking like a hot mess.

“I would appreciate it. I think a shower is not only much needed but it would make me feel better. Any brand would be fine, I’m not picky.” My new financial situation rushed back and slapped me in the face and I quickly rushed out. “Whatever’s cheapest will work.”

McKenna tilted her head and squinted before she recovered and smiled. But I didn’t miss the look.

Great. Not only did I look homeless, but she probably thought I was, too.

Which sadly was the truth. As soon as I signed the papers Reggie would own my home and I’d be out on my ass with nowhere to live. Well, I could live with my mom. Just what every thirty-one-year-old woman wants. Yippy.

“I was going to pick up a few large pizzas. Anything else you’d like?”

I would have killed for a cheesesteak, but considering I no longer had the money for it, I wouldn’t ask.

“No. I’m not that hungry. A slice will be more than enough.”

McKenna sighed and much to my dismay stepped farther into the room. I smelled like hospital antiseptic and God knows what else. I’m sure the combination’s attractive—not.

“I hope you don’t think I’m out of bounds saying this, but it’s gonna get better. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but it will.”

I bit my tongue instead of lashing out. McKenna was Nixon’s girlfriend and Jameson’s friend but she had no idea what she was talking about.

“You don’t believe me,” she murmured. “I don’t blame you. Before I met Nixon, if someone had told me my life would get better, that things would get easier, that if I had patience everything would work out, I would’ve call them a liar, too. I didn’t want to admit I was drowning, that I had no idea how to handle my brother and sister and guide them through their grief of losing our family while not dealing with mine. I was so determined to do it on my own to prove I could, I forgot I didn’t have to. That when Nixon offered his help, it was okay to take it.

“I’m going to tell you something I’m sure you already know. Those men downstairs, they live and breathe to protect the people they care about. I can’t say I know Jameson as well as you do even though I work with him fifty hours a week. That’s because he doesn’t let anyone see the real him. But I have a feeling, he’s shown you. So, I don’t need to know you, to know there’s something special about you and you’re someone I want to call my friend. That is, when you’re ready.

“But in the meantime, don’t turn down their help. It will be a useless battle you’ll lose anyway. They won’t stop fightin’ in your corner. They won’t let anyone bully you or hurt you. They’ll fight until the death for you and I know that as fact. Accepting their help, and Jameson’s in particular, doesn’t make you weak, it makes you smart. It means you’re self-aware and know when it’s time to call in the cavalry.”

McKenna gave me a lopsided smile and asked again, “Other than pizza what would you like from Procolinos?”

“A cheesesteak with grilled onions and ketchup.”

Her smile was beaming and genuine.

“And your shampoo?”

“I use Joico but I doubt the supermarket will have that brand, so really anything is fine. I wasn’t lying, I’m not picky.”