Page 62 of Never Forget

Most of the room is cracking up, laughing so hard they wouldn’t be able to talk even if they wanted to. Even Naz has his head thrown back, eyes closed, shoulders shaking. I can’t help but smile. Seeing him happy and carefree, even if only for a few minutes, almost makes me forget where I am. A brief reprieve where we can drop some of the weight we’ve been carrying and just be in the moment.

That moment, unfortunately, is cut short when the door opens and Emmy sticks his head in. “Cory, Scott? Mr. Holland would like to see you in his office if you don’t mind.”

However cheery and natural his voice sounds, I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Cory walks ahead of us, purpose in his steps as he makes a beeline for Blake’s office.

“Hey,” Emmy says, pushing his shoulder against my arm as we walk. “You’ve got this.”

“What if I just make things worse? What if I’ve unintentionally made things worse and put Naz and the others in danger?”

It feels like I’m being marched to my execution. My legs falter, a slight wobble in my gait. I’m sweating profusely. My breath feels short. I’ve never had a panic attack before. Is this how they start?

“Hold up.” Emmy stops, wrapping his hand around the crook of my elbow to keep me back. Cory turns to spare us a look just as he reaches the door. “Mr. Holland would like to speak to you alone first. Scott will be right in.”

Once the door shuts behind Cory, Emmy takes me by the shoulders and faces me directly. “I know this is stressful," he says quietly. “But what’s done is done. All we can do is do better from this moment forward.”

“I can’t lose this job, Emmy.”

He sighs, and my shoulders stiffen at the defeat I hear in his exhale, like he knows something I don’t. This is no regular meeting. This is make or break. I’ll either walk out of here with a warning and a mission, or I’ll walk out without a job.

What will I do if they fire me? Especially with Naz not speaking to me, how can I keep him safe if I’m not by his side?

“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him, Emmy.”

Whatever it takes.

SIXTEEN

NAZ

By the time Emmy returns to give us the signal that it’s safe to leave, I have a pounding headache radiating from the back of my neck to my temples. It feels like my eyeballs might pop out of their sockets, which at this point might actually be a relief if it releases some of the pressure.

I can’t decide what’s worse, overthinking what’s happening with Scott, or stressing over my grandparents being in the same space as the guys without me there as a buffer.

My grandparents were not happy about the change of plans when I called this morning. That I wasn’t there today after insisting so hard that they move in was bad enough. They were even less impressed to hear they’d be sharing space with those friends of mine they find so unsavory.

Since I couldn’t tell them everything that has been happening, I just had to take the judgement and let them think my grandfather’s recovery wasn’t my priority. I put the band first, just like always.

After trying several times to reach them to check in, I finally gave up and called Simon. He assured me everyone was settling in, but when I asked to speak to either of my grandparents, they weren’t available. Grandfather was too tired to speak, and my grandmother was busy ordering Zane around, having him move the furniture around to her liking.

Zane, at least, is the milder of all our expected houseguests. He’s not particularly talkative, doesn’t have any visible tattoos, and is generally very polite. He arrived this morning shortly after we departed. Eric, Will, and Ari are supposed to be there sometime late tonight, and then Jesse, Luc, and Tad are due to arrive in the early hours of the morning. I’m sure my grandparents will just love that. Jesse is their favorite.

Trying to shake off my worries about what’s happening at home, I get up from the conference table and follow as the guys file out, remembering to keep their heads down. I’m last to exit the conference room, but instead of following them straight to the elevator, I hold back. My gaze strays to the small reception area where Emmy’s desk and a seating area set up outside Blake’s office.

Is Scott still in there?

Cory told me they would be hard pressed to take Scott off my personal security detail because we aren’t sure who else we could trust, but he trusted Charles and Lawrence enough to be part of this farce. Will one of them end up replacing Scott?

I try to imagine having anyone else by my side, shadowing me everywhere, watching my every move. It’s hard to fathom feeling comfortable with anyone other than Scott. Even when he first started and I was being pissy about it, I wasn’t as uncomfortable with him as I put on. At first I was angry because I’d been put in close proximity with someone who’d seen me more vulnerable than I’d ever let myself be. Knowing he’d seen me like that made me feel exposed and weak.

But Scott saw me. Really saw me. Saw through the walls I keep up, the roles I play in all aspects of my life. He gave me a new role, one that allowed me to peel off all the layers I hide behind. He stripped me down to my basest layers, to the animal need I always knew lived in my bones. He turned off all the noise and let me be… nothing.

Even between sessions, I felt more able to be myself with Scott than I have in a very long time.

I don’t think I could ever get used to having a different shadow, and there’s no chance in hell I’ll ever find another person who I could trust to give me what Scott does.

More than that… I’d miss him.