She rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop. Something came up. I’m here to let you in.”
I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Her explanation didn’t make sense, but the knowledge that he had sent her to let me in the loft extinguished half of my fears.
“Is he okay?” I asked, following her down the alley.
“Uh…yeah. You worry too much,” she said, her annoyed expression obvious even in the dark.
She led me up the iron stairs of the entry way, and then opened the door to let me inside. I ran up the stairs to the loft and collapsed into the bed. An overwhelming feeling of relief tore through me, and I did my best to weep quietly to avoid further ridicule from Claire.
I dried my eyes as I heard her light footsteps climb the stairs and stop beside the bed.
“Wow,” she deadpanned, chomping on a wad of gum too big for her petite mouth. “Why don’t you take a shower?” she asked.
I ignored her.
Claire sighed and sat down on Jared’s side of the bed.
I froze for a moment, bracing for an obnoxious comment from her. She sat quietly.
I shot a confused glance her way. “W…What are you doing?” I asked, sniffing.
“I’m supposed to sit with you,” she said, sounding bored.
“Sit with me? Why?”
“I just am. Go take a shower, will you? You’re a mess.”
I sniffed again and ambled to the shower, too baffled to argue. Claire never missed an opportunity to make me feel like an idiot, but surely she could understand my tears. I hurried through my nightly routine, anxious that every noise outside the bathroom was Jared returning home.
When I finished, Claire was downstairs. I slipped on one of Jared’s t-shirts. It was a poor substitute, but it would have to do until he came home. With impeccable timing, she returned as I slipped under the covers.
She looked away from me, suddenly uncomfortable. “That’s Jared’s favorite shirt.”
I looked down and noticed the dead giveaway: It was ratty and worn. The dark grey heather cotton was thin, and I smiled as I made out the faded words across the front; it was from a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert four years ago. I looked up at Claire who showed signs of a slight grin.
“My dad took him to that concert,” she mused, sitting on the bed beside me.
“You look like him,” I said. Gabe had light blonde hair as well, and Claire had inherited his ice blue eyes.
Those eyes instantly glazed over with anger. “Don’t talk about him. You…,” she stopped herself, “just go to sleep, Nina.”
Falling asleep with Claire sitting over me like a prison guard wasn’t likely, so I turned my back to her, focusing on Jared. I wondered what it was that he was doing, and wondered why he hadn’t called. I opened my mouth to ask Claire, but given her mood I thought better of it.
The clock switched from P.M. to A.M. as the numbers changed to midnight. Jared still hadn’t called, and I was almost worried enough to ask Claire to call him. At that moment, Claire stood up and walked over to the railing. The outside door slammed, footsteps echoed up the iron steps, and then the front door opened and closed quietly. Claire’s eyes followed the footsteps up the stairs until Jared came into view.
The sight of him shocked me. His face was smudged with dirt and blood, along with his shirt, jacket and jeans. His knuckles were swollen and bloody. I noticed that on a few of them the hide had ripped away and hung by just a few centimeters of skin.
“Jared?” I said, ripping the covers off to run to him.
“I’m okay,” he said, holding me away. “I’m dirty. Let me jump in the shower.”
Without a word, Claire retreated downstairs.
I paced the room, chewing on my nails until he reappeared. He was dressed and clean shaven, the only remnants of his earlier disheveled appearance was his already healing knuckles.
“What happened?” I asked in firm tone.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Something came up,” he said, eyeing my bandage free hand.
“Obviously,” I said, crossing my arms. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Dawson stopped by The Rock to pay you a visit. I had to act quickly.” He walked by me to pull the first aid kit from under the bed.
“Mr. Dawson?” I asked, shocked.
“He was armed, and he also had…,” Jared’s jaw tensed, “he had paraphernalia.”
“What kind of paraphernalia?” I said, sitting on the bed.
“The kind you use to tie someone up and torture them. He was planning on getting that package tonight.”
I swallowed loudly. If Jared hadn’t been there to protect me, I didn’t want to think where I would be.
He didn’t look up when he spoke, “He won’t bother you again.”
“You….”