They gave Destiny something in the ER that seemed to calm her down and her moaning stopped. I don’t even want to know what horrific thing she was reliving. It took them most of the night, but eventually they found her a bed in the psych ward. I guess by law, they can’t turn away a psych case, even if there’s no insurance.
I’m still not exactly sure what happened. It’s a little bit blurry in my head. She kept screaming that Bran had raped me, then all of a sudden, she’s punching me, like something just snapped and she went into self-defense mode.
There have been a series of people that have come in to look over Destiny’s file. A few of them asked me questions about whether Destiny has any allergies, whether she uses recreational drugs or alcohol, whether she’s had any psychiatric treatment in the past, what our current living situation is, if we have other family, and one woman who introduced herself as Destiny’s therapist wanted to know about our childhood and our parents. I told her everything I could think of. They let me stay with Destiny all day and brought me a tray at lunch and dinner. The cop from the house came and asked some questions a little while ago. Finally, as it starts getting dark outside Destiny’s window, the nurse tells me I have to go.
I call Jon and wait at the main entrance for him to come for me.
“Hey,” he says when I slide into the passenger seat of the Mustang. So much has happened in the last twenty-four hours, it feels like a year since I’ve been here.
“Hey,” I parrot, my mind too numb to come up with anything else.
“Mom wants you to stay with us for a while,” he says. “You good with that?”
I slump into the seat and nod.
He leaves me alone for the short ride to his house and when we get there, Bethany goes into super-mom mode when she sees the bruise on my face.
“Oh you poor dear,” she says. “You’re safe now. I’ve got the guest room made up and you’ll stay with us until your sister recovers.”
I nod, because I don’t have the energy to think right now.
Jon comes with me to my room and we sprawl across the double bed. “You didn’t miss much in algebra,” he says, “but I’ll let you copy my homework.”
“Thanks.”
“We got knocked out of the playoffs last night, so football’s officially over.”
I roll my head to look at him. “Good thing, or bad thing?”
“Good, I think,” he says with a nod. “I’m ready for a break.”
“Okay. Great.” I turn my face back to the ceiling and hook an elbow over my eyes. My lids are all of a sudden too heavy to hold up.
Until Jon says, “And I kissed Troy.”
I spring to a sit and look down at him. “Redwood linebacker Troy?”
He smiles and nods.
“And?” I wave to his privates. “Zing or no zing?”
That goofy grin pulls at his mouth. “Definite zing.”
I hold up a hand and he high fives me. “You slut.”
He sits up and windshield wipers a finger at me. “Hey, hey, hey…none of that. It was just a kiss.”
“For now,” I say.
“What about you?” he asks. “What’s going on with Cradle Robber?”
Bran.
I’ve tried to keep my mind where it belongs right now, on my sister, but all day it’s crept to him. I left him standing in the apartment with a cop last night. I don’t know what happened after that. He texted this morning to say he’d boarded up our door. He wants me to let him know when I need to get in. I texted back “Thanks,” and that was it.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
?
It’s been four days. I’ve gone to school and work, and visited Destiny when I can. Bethany is insisting I stay with them until Destiny’s home, but the truth is, I’ll go out of my fucking mind and end up in the hospital bed next to my sister if I have to be there one more day. It’s unnatural for any group of people to be this happy.
So, I text Bran from work, tell him I’m ready for him to let me into the apartment.
I expect him to go over and open it up for me. What I don’t expect is to walk out of the market and find his car on the curb outside and him leaning against the door. There’s a definite December chill in the air, and he’s wearing a well worn black leather jacket over a blue hoodie and jeans.
And, God, he’s incredible.
It’s easy to forget when I’m away from him, but the sight of him steals my breath.
“You ready?” he asks, shoving off his car.
No. There’s no way to be ready for the wave of desire that overwhelms me every time I’m near him. “Yeah.”
He opens the door for me and I slide in. He climbs in his side and watches the road ahead as we pass Sam Hill on the way to our apartment. When I see our door, I bust out laughing. I expected a few two by four scraps nailed over the opening, but he’s replaced the outer door with a steel security door.
“Wanted to be sure no one messed with your stuff. Especially since you were nice enough to pack it all up for them.”
“We don’t have anything but a busted TV. They could have it.”
He looks at me for a second before swinging open his door. He produces a key from his pocket and turns it in the locks, then hands it to me and stands back.
“After you.”