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The pain and despair in her voice breaks my heart. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. I promise.”
She laughs bitterly. “Sean was supposed to protect me, and look how that turned out.”
“I’m not Sean. And I won’t let you down. Sean was controlled by his drug habit, and he made bad decisions because of it. I assure you, that won’t happen with me.”
Gradually, her shaking stops.
I pull out my phone and check her blood sugar level. On impulse, I reach out to brush her hair back from her face. “Try to sleep, okay?”
She nods. “Goodnight.” When I return to my makeshift bed on the sofa, she says, “Thanks, Jason.”
It’s the first time she’s used my name. I think we’re making progress. “You’re welcome, Layla. Goodnight.”
Chapter 7
Layla Alexander
The next morning, when I come out of the bathroom, I find a breakfast tray waiting for me on the table beside my bed. Jason’s sitting on the sofa by the window, reading on his phone.
“Good morning,” he says with a sleepy smile.
While I was in the bathroom, he changed into a pair of blue jeans, a long-sleeved black T-shirt, and a pair of running shoes. I’m bummed because I can’t see his tattoos now.
I pick up the slice of wheat toast on the breakfast tray, take a bite, and make a face. It’s dry, but I force it down anyway, along with the rest of my breakfast—cold scrambled eggs, diced fruit, and a cup of black coffee. I mentally calculate how many grams of carbohydrates I’m about to eat and enter the number into my pod. Over the years, I’ve gotten really good at counting carbs, and I do a pretty decent job of regulating my blood sugar.
I glance around this dreary hospital room and sigh. I miss my own bed, my TV, and my computer. I should be at home doing schoolwork. I’ve already missed over a week of the semester. “I really want to go home.”
Jason lays his phone down. “My understanding is you can go home as soon as your psychiatrist gives the okay.”
I nod. “I have an appointment with Dr. Hartigan this morning. If I can convince her I’m doing okay, she’ll release me. I just want to get back to normal—well, as normal as I can be.” I laugh. “That’s not saying much.”
There’s a knock on my door, and Jason rises from the sofa and heads toward the door. “We all have our own version of normal, Layla. And we all have struggles. You’re no different.” He opens the door and steps aside to let my parents enter. I realize it’s Saturday, and they don’t have to work today.
“Hello, darling,” Mom says as she comes over to hug me. “Did you sleep well?” She gently brushes my cheek. “You look rested.”
“I did,” I say, lying through my teeth. I give her a well-practiced smile. “I slept great.”
I meet Jason’s eyes, but he says nothing to contradict me in front of my parents. I had two more nightmares last night, and with each one I woke up frantic and agitated. And each time, he talked me off the ledge. I don’t think either one of us got more than a few hours of sleep last night.
“Good morning, Jason,” Mom says to him. “I talked to Ian, and he told me you stayed with Layla last night.” She smiles, clearly pleased by the news. “I’m so glad.”
“Hello, sweetheart,” my dad says as he leans down and kisses my forehead. “Are you ready for your appointment with Dr. Hartigan this morning?”
I suspect they’re both anxious to find out what my shrink thinks about how I’m coping. “Yes. It’s at ten.” But I have a suspicion my parents already knew that.
“How lucky,” Mom says as she checks the clock. “We’re here just in time.”
My parents never leave anything to chance. I know they timed their arrival with my psych evaluation. I’m sure they want to speak to Dr. Hartigan after she sees me.
I sit on the side of my bed. Mom joins me, leaning close so that our shoulders are touching. “How’s it working out with Jason?” she asks quietly.
My dad is across the room having a conversation with my new bodyguard.
“He seems nice.”
Mom frowns. “If you don’t like him, honey, we’ll—”
“No. That’s not necessary. I like him just fine.”
