Mister Wrong

As he pressed it to my head, I sat still, watching him from the corner of my eye. He looked so worried, like I was droplets away from bleeding out or something. So guilty, like this was his fault.

“It’s not your fault, Jacob. I tripped. It’s okay—I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t say anything; he just stayed crouched beside me, pressing his shirtsleeve to my temple like he could do it all day without getting tired.

“I need to get you back down to the trailhead,” he said, his voice sounding far off. “Can you hold this against your head okay?” He gently lifted my hand and folded it over the shirtsleeve. He was waiting for my answer.

“Think I can muster up the strength somehow.” I managed a smile, but he didn’t see it. He was too busy snapping up my pack and scooping me into his arms. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you down the trail.” His arms curled around me, feeling as strong as they did careful, right before he hoisted me up from the ground.

“Jacob, put me down.”

“Not happening.” He was already moving down the trail, every step as sure as the one before.

“It’s my head that’s the problem. My legs are working just fine.” I lifted my eyebrows at him, but his focus was aimed on the trail he was moving down especially fast, given he was carrying a grown adult.

“I’m getting you down this thing. In one piece.” His hands formed deeper into me. “We can argue about it the whole way down if you want, but I’m not putting you down.”

I sighed. “Jacob.”

“Not letting go.” He glanced at me like he was challenging me to keep pushing him. “But please feel free to keep voicing your protests. You know I like it when you get all bossy on me.”

I fought my smile. “I have a serious head wound and you’re making jokes?”

He kept his eyes on the trail, but I didn’t miss the amusement that washed into them. “Oh, yeah, sure. Now that I’m making jokes, it’s a serious head wound. Back there when you were making your plea to walk down on your own, it was a microscopic scratch.”

I shook my head, giving a loud enough sigh that he knew I wasn’t happy about our present situation, but I was resigned to it. He just grinned at me, like we were playing one of the games we used to play as kids.

We didn’t say anything else the rest of the trek down. I hadn’t realized how far we’d made it or how long we’d been out, but when the parking lot came into view, the cab was just pulling back in.

“Thank god,” Jacob breathed when he saw it.

“Not excited about the idea of schlepping me all the way back to the hotel?” I asked, checking his face for signs of strain. There were none.

“If it meant getting to hold on to you, I’d carry you through the rest of our lives.” As soon as he looked down at me, he glanced away. “But I’d rather get you into a vehicle that can travel thirty miles per hour, or forty-five if I promise a really great tip.”

The cab driver saw us coming and already had the back door open when we emerged from the trailhead. When he noticed my head, his eyes went round.

“Hospital?” he guessed, already rushing around to the driver seat.

From the way the guy was moving, I guessed it looked like my skull had been split open.

Jacob bit his cheek, waiting for me to answer as he set me down and guided me into the backseat.

“Back to the hotel please,” I told the driver.

Jacob didn’t say anything; he just pulled his phone out as he slid into the seat beside me. “Give him a call so he’s waiting for us when we get there.” His eyes stayed forward as I took the phone, punching in Matt’s number.

It rang.

It kept ringing.

Then it went to voicemail.

“He didn’t answer. I’ll leave a message,” I whispered, but Jacob slid the phone from my hand.

“Call him on yours.”

“But I just tried. He’s not answering.”

He shifted in his seat as he handed me my daypack. “But he’ll answer yours.”

Pulling my phone out of the bag, I gave him a doubtful look as I hit the two button Matt’s number was saved under.

“My number still in the number one spot?” Jacob was peering at my phone.

“Of course it is,” I said as I lifted the phone to my ear.

“Matt’s number two?”

I shrugged, wondering why I needed to answer that when he’d just watched me hit two.

“Does that order still extend beyond your speed-dial line-up?” he asked, lifting his head so it was aligned with mine.

I was saved having to answer that loaded question when the phone started to ring. It didn’t have a chance to ring twice before the other end clicked.

“Cora?”

I didn’t know why, but hearing Matt’s voice made me kind of sink into the seat. It made me feel like no matter what was going on, everything was going to be all right in the end. Actually, he’d always made me feel that way. From the first week I’d moved into their house and accidentally broken a vase and he’d helped me clean it up, telling me it would be okay, to right now, years later, when I’d just smashed my head—and possibly my heart—and was calling him for help. Later, I’d found out he’d taken the blame for breaking the vase and been grounded for a week. I’d begged him to tell the truth, but he’d stood firm. So I’d sneaked him dinner every night that week, since grounding in the Adams’ house meant going to bed without dinner.

“Cora?” This time his voice was strained.

Beside me, Jacob nudged me, his gaze aimed out the front window.

“Matt, I fell. I think I need stitches—”

“What? Wait. Where are you?” In the background, I heard noise, like he was rushing around.

“I was hiking. I only need a few stitches, I think, and didn’t want to go to the hospital if you wouldn’t mind—”

“Of course I don’t mind. Where are you? I’ll meet you there.” More rustling around, followed by what sounded like a door slamming.

“We’re on our way back to the hotel. Could you meet us back at my hotel room?”

“You’re with Jacob?” It went quiet in the background, then Matt’s voice changed. “He was with you when you were hiking? When you fell?”

My eyes shifted toward Jacob. I wasn’t sure if he could hear what Matt was saying, and his expression gave nothing away. “Yeah, he was with me.”

A few beats of silence. “Cora . . .” He exhaled. “Did he—”

“Matt, please. Just meet us back at the hotel. We’ll probably be there in another ten minutes.”

On the other end, he was silent. I knew Matt so well I knew exactly what he was thinking. Now wasn’t the time to try to convince him I’d fallen all on my own.

“I’ll be there,” he said at last, but the line didn’t go dead.

Nicole Williams's books