Collared

“I’m here to help. That’s all,” Torrin tells her.

When she looks between the two of us, she doesn’t try to hide what she’s thinking. Her gaze flickers to Torrin as she moves toward the door. “Just make sure you don’t confuse helping her with hurting her.” She peaks her eyebrow at him. “Father.” When she passes me, she holds out her business card. She waits until I take it. “If you ever want to talk, I’m a phone call away. My cell number’s on the back.”

I take the card, but I don’t have any plans of using it. What happened happened. I’m not about to spend two hours every week dissecting it into tiny, ugly bits. The key to fixing myself is moving on.

“Good luck, Jade,” she says before leaving the room.

The room’s silent now that she’s gone. Until Torrin’s footsteps puncture the quiet. “Where are we going?”

I haven’t really thought about that. All I know is that I need to leave the hospital. My forehead creases as I consider my options. There aren’t many. “My parents’, I guess.”

Torrin nods and turns around, inspecting the room. “Do you have any bags?” he asks as I move toward the door.

“No. I only came in with what I’ve got on.” I pinch at the faded cardigan that’s a couple sizes too big.

Torrin glances at the dark stain ringing around the collar again. His hands go to his hips, and he has to look away. “Sorry. Dumb question.” His voice is light, but his expression doesn’t match. “There’ll probably be a lot of those, and you have my permission to just punch me in the nose when I ask too many, okay?”

As we leave the room, I drop Dr. Argent’s card in the garbage. I have enough baggage already. “You’ve played soccer since you were three and never managed to break your nose.” Or at least he hadn’t until he was seventeen. I’m not sure what’s happened during the last ten years to him. Going to school and becoming a priest is the extent of what I know Torrin has been up to. “I wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for finally breaking it.”

He holds the door open and lets me pass through it first. “A person can fix a broken nose, no problem.”

As we pass the nurses’ station, Torrin waves at them. Everyone’s already looking at us though. Not quite with morbid curiosity but something that comes close.

“Yeah?” I say, moving toward the elevators a little quicker. I don’t like being stared at. I don’t like it because most people can keep their dirty secrets from the rest of the world—mine are on display for the whole entire world to learn about.

“Yep. Some breaks are easier to fix than others.” He punches the down button when we stop in front of the elevator, and he glances up and down the halls. Kind of like he’s looking for someone. Or expecting someone.

I scan the hall with him. Nothing but a couple more nurses pretending they aren’t watching me. “Some breaks can’t be fixed at all.”

Torrin doesn’t reply, because I know he’s on a first-name basis with breaks that can’t be fixed. He learned about those after his dad died. I learned about them after I died to myself.

He holds the elevator door when it opens and motions me inside. I go in easily enough; it isn’t until the doors slide closed that I feel panic start to claw at my stomach. Small, confined places. Doors that can’t be opened easily. My breathing’s picking up, and I feel my hands get clammy. An elevator. I’ve ridden in a thousand of them, but now I can’t travel down five floors without feeling like I’m going to hyperventilate.

From the corner of my eye, I see Torrin glance at me. “Are you okay?”

I nod and grip the railing behind me a little harder. He watches me for another second then slides a little closer. We aren’t quite touching, but the warmth of his body breaks across mine. I feel the energy he’s emitting. It doesn’t put me out of the panic zone, but it gets me through the rest of the ride until the doors whoosh open on the first floor.

I nearly crash out of the elevator.

“Jade?” Torrin comes up behind me, lowering his face to mine.

“I’m okay. Just give me a second.” I lean over a little to catch my breath, wiping my hands on my jeans.

It takes a minute, and I know people are watching me again, but I don’t care. They’re just watching me because I look like I’m about to have a baby, not because I’m the girl who’s just been rescued after being kidnapped ten years ago.

“Good?” Torrin’s hand grazes my lower back.

I squeeze my eyes together tightly before opening them. “Good.”

I straighten up and give him a smile, but I’m shaken. An elevator just made me lose my shit. What else would be responsible for doing the same? An alarm clock? Rush-hour traffic? A woman tapping my shoulder at the grocery store?

Everything seems scary, which is ironic since I just did a ten-year stint in the mecca of scary. An elevator should feel like a relaxing massage in comparison.

Beside me, Torrin goes rigid, his forearms flexing like he’s bracing for something.

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