Page 132 of Run to Me

The lamp on the nightstand illuminates my pit, and I drag the covers over my head. I’m comfortable hiding in the dark. Shame can’t find me here.

Javi’s tone is solemn, regretful, when he speaks again. “I should’ve paid closer attention. I’m sorry.”

He has nothing to apologize for. Nobody does. I’m the one who broke so many rules and lied to everyone I care about. I’m the disappointment. That reminder makes me think of…

“Maisy.” The blanket muffles my ragged whisper. Her name is the first word I’ve spoken since Jake confronted me in my secret room at Bruno’s.

“Let’s focus on you, man. Don’t worry about anyone else right now.”

“Please, Javi. I have to know.”

He hesitates, and I prepare myself for the worst. “She’ll be okay. Tatum and Pam are with her.”

Wait. Maisy should be in Jamaica right now. I told her to go. Surely, a week hasn’t passed already. I should feel a lot worse, physically, if I’ve gone seven days without food or water, which leaves only one explanation for her being in Walford.

I drag the blanket halfway down my face and squint against the harsh light. “She stayed?”

He nods, his gaze meaningful when he squeezes my leg. “She stayed.”

A choking noise catches in my throat, and my eyes sting with equal amounts of relief and guilt as I stare at the ceiling. “I messed up. I ruined everything. She⁠—”

“She needs you.”

Need.

The simple, four-letter word usually fills me with dread. However, when spoken in association with Maisy, I’m overcome with a profound sense of purpose. My stiff, unused joints ache when I push aside the covers and rise to a seated position, planting my feet on the floor.

With my elbows braced on my knees and hands buried in my greasy hair, I whisper, “What have I done?”

The shame overwhelms me. My heart races when I consider all the consequences of my actions. Layer upon layer of fear fills my head.

Sensing my increasing anxiety, Javi puts a hand on my shoulder. “Nothing that can’t be undone. Please, man, accept our help. You have more to lose than ever if you don’t.”

My birdie. She’ll fly away and never come back.

“I don’t want to be like this, Javi. My mind is…it’s broken.”

“You’re not broken,” Jake says from the doorway, his voice rough. Tired.

The sight of purple shadows beneath his eyes and his overgrown stubble elevates my level of guilt. He should be at home, living in newlywed bliss with his pregnant wife, but he’s losing sleep over me instead.

I track him with my gaze as he approaches and sits at my other side. “Jake, I⁠—”

“Don’t apologize.” He drapes an arm over my shoulders. “Don’t say anything yet. Take a shower, get some food in you, then we can figure everything out.”

I nod in response.

Javi says, “Help is on the way. A friend of mine from Austin agreed to come and talk to you. She’ll be here within the hour.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m forcing myself to eat a sandwich at the kitchen island when Javi walks in with an older woman. She has long silver hair, coke-bottle glasses, and a shitload of beaded necklaces. First impression? She’s a witch, and Javi hired her to cast a spell on me. I wouldn’t put it past him.

The woman approaches me with a hand extended. “Jensen, I’m Dr. Marjorie Sims, a psychologist and a friend of Javi’s.”

Shaking her bony hand, I say, “Nice to meet you.”

“No, it’s not. I’m the last person anyone wants to meet.” She chuckles to herself, and I relax. Her directness and sense of humor put me at ease. They remind me of Maisy.

Dr. Sims joins me at the island and encourages me to finish eating while we chat. I agree to let Javi and Jake stick around for this first meeting.