More Than This: Contemporary Christian Romance Novel (11 page)

“What do you want?” She didn’t sound even as non-friendly as she looked.

He lifted the brown bag. “I brought some things for Liz. Orange juice. Cold medicine.”

The blonde girl didn’t so much a move. She just stared at him, arms crossed.

Jake had no clue what to do with that. “Um, can I see her? Is she still here? Is she asleep?”

One more second to scrutinize him and then she reached up and took the bag. “I’ll give it to her when she wakes up.”

So she was asleep. That was good. Jake nodded. “Thanks. Tell her I hope she gets better.”

“Yeah.” And with that, she shut the door.

Knowing nothing else to do, he turned down the hallway and headed out.

At midnight Liz rolled off the couch, still mostly asleep. She needed to go to bed, but first she needed something to eat. Her stomach was roiling around the emptiness like dice on a craps table. The lights were off, which most likely meant that Becca was either asleep or gone.

A raspy cough attacked Liz as she crossed into the kitchen, and she had to put her hand on the counter to stay vertical. Her lungs ached; her throat felt like sandpaper. Worse, it felt like she had either cracked a rib or hacked up an organ as the pain in her side with each cough doubled her over. She took two shaky steps, opened the refrigerator, and blinked back the light, choking on another cough. The swallow didn’t help at all. Tired hit with a one-two punch that nearly knocked her over; however, she knew she had to eat something. Toast sounded good.

At that moment she saw the six-pack of orange juice cans and stopped. Orange juice? They never had orange juice.

Then she remembered.
Jake
.

Too tired to be mad enough to make a difference, she reached in and grabbed one. It took less than ten seconds for it to be down her throat and she grabbed another for good measure. The sting of the tart liquid felt good to her throat. So good that her previously angry feelings toward him softened. Yes, she was still confused about his on-again, off-again style of life, but for this on-again moment, she was grateful.

Jake spent all day on Tuesday wondering about her. After work, he raced home, changed, and headed out. There would be no lurking in the shadows tonight. No watching to see if she was there. No. Tonight he was going to go into The Grind, make sure she didn’t do something stupid like go in to work and then run over to her place if necessary. It wasn’t a great plan, but he had no contact information for her, so it was the only one he had.

When he got to The Grind, he found Mia and someone who was decidedly not Liz manning the counter. However, it was only 6:30, and he didn’t know what time her shift started. Casually, he leaned against the counter. “Mia?”

She turned and her normally tough features dropped into a scowl. “What do you want?”

Apparently Liz wasn’t the only one who was upset with him. “Have you heard from Liz? Is she coming into work?”

Mia looked even more unpleasant. “Who wants to know?”

“Look, I kind of ran into her last night. I know she’s sick, and I just want to check on her to make sure she’s all right.”

Taking a rag, Mia wiped the counter in front of him, forcing him to move backward off of it. “I don’t think Liz wants to talk to you, and I don’t blame her. What you did…  Well, that was just uncalled for. That girl took a chance on you, and you smashed her heart. Now she didn’t deserve that, and I’m not going to stand here and help you do it again.”

Jake wished he could take it all back. He really had thought he was staying away because that was best for her. Besides, it wasn’t like she could have been in love with him or anything. They’d only met, gone out once, talked a couple of times, kissed once. He swallowed at that thought. Had she felt like he had— like the whole earth shifted and would never be the same again? The way Mia was acting, it was quite possible he had seriously misjudged the whole situation, and he felt horrible for that. Then again, horrible was bound to find him sooner or later. It always did.

“Listen, Mia.” He put up both hands as if in surrender. “I know I was a jerk.”

She snorted. “You can say that again. You come in here, take her out, and make her think there’s something to this thing and then you
leave
with no explanation, no see ya later, no nothing, and then you waltz back in here like you’re some kind of knight in shining armor come to rescue her? I don’t think so.” With a shake of her head, she stepped around the counter.

He was beginning to get it in a way he hadn’t before. Liz must’ve been even more hurt than he had realized. “Mia, wait.” He reached out and arrested her movement with a grasp of her elbow.

She looked down at his hand as if she might cut it off if he left it there any longer.

“Wait. Please.” He unhanded her, considering that the wiser move. “I get it. Okay?” Emotions clogged his throat. “I really thought I was doing her a favor by leaving her alone. I’m sorry for that. I never meant to hurt her.”

“Yeah? And how’s that working out for you?”

Sheepish. It was all he could feel. “Not so great.” He sighed, letting his shoulders drop. “I just… I wanted to check on her, to make sure she’s okay. Is she coming in to work or not?”

The pause told him that Mia’s indecision ran deep. She finally turned to him and crossed her arms. “You know, you don’t have a very good track record on the whole not hurting her thing.”

“I know.” He nodded to put a stamp on it. “But I swear, I won’t make that mistake this time.”

She let out another snort. “Well, I guess you are a man. You can’t help yourself being a class-A jerk.”

Was he supposed to agree with that? “Will you tell me if she’s coming in? Please.”

Mia shook her head. “She’s not. I think she even skipped school this morning.” Then she put up her index finger and waved it in his face. “But so help me, you hurt her again, and I’ll separate your head from your shoulders. Got it?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Got it. Loud and clear.”

When the knock sounded on the door, Liz hardly opened her eyes. She’d been on the couch most of the night and all of the day. She kept thinking she should go to bed or at least get up and shower, but every time she made it off the couch, in less than two minutes she was back down again. The knock sounded again, and she put her wrist over her head. “Becca.”

That pathetic effort produced a coughing fit that hurled her forward, doubled her over, and sent her senses scattering. The knock came again, and she really truly hated whoever was on the other side of that door.

“Ugh. I’m coming.” Her feet somehow found the floor, and she got the rest of herself up to nearly vertical. She was hardly the picture of beauty or health, but that was okay. Maybe her horrific appearance would scare whoever it was away for good. Holding furniture to keep herself upright, she wound her way to the door.

Before she got there, however, the knock sounded again. Her strength was gone by the time she got to the door, so she leaned on it, hoping it would hold her up.

“What?” she asked, trying to sound alive, alert, and menacing. It didn’t work.

“Liz? It’s Jake. I came to check on you.”

Ugh. Go away
beat through her. But she had no energy to even get the words out.

“Can you open up?”

“Jake, I’m…” But whatever followed that was drown out in a fit of coughing that yanked her lungs out of her chest. When the fit passed, she could hardly catch her breath, and she fought to keep her eyes open as she leaned on the door for support. She needed to get rid of him, but her mind wasn’t thinking at all clearly. What was he doing here anyway?

“Liz, please, open up.” Jake put his hands on either side of the doorframe, seriously considering breaking the door down if she didn’t open it. Sure, that wasn’t exactly respecting her boundaries or whatever, but he was worried, and by the sound of that cough, he had every reason to be. “Liz…”

The locks slid through their chambers, and his heart jumped. He straightened, waiting. When the last lock unhitched, the door slipped open and he could hardly contain himself long enough to wait for it.

And then she was standing in front of him. Puffy, red eyes, red nose, hair everywhere. He was glad he had come. Worry pushed him forward even though she didn’t move from leaning on the door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as if she might fall asleep at any moment. Her voice sounded as if it was being run over a washboard, and when the words were out, the cough that followed worried him further.

“Liz. Are you…? You look terrible.”

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously.” This time he really did push into the apartment, not hard but firmly. He took her by the shoulders and angled his gaze down at her with concern. “Are you here by yourself?”

She hesitated, and he knew the answer.

“Mia said you didn’t go to school today.”

Liz’s tired, sick eyes came up to meet his, but she said nothing. She looked on the verge of going to sleep or passing out— he couldn’t tell which.

“I went to the coffee shop to check on you, and by the looks of things, it’s a good thing I did.” Concern for her took over then. “You need to lie down.” He turned her for the couch even as he shut the door. “Have you eaten? Did you take your cold medicine? Did you drink your orange juice?”

At the couch, she put one knee onto it and slid the rest of the way down, looking like she might already be asleep when she got there. He watched her, his hands on his hips, his mind going in a million directions at once. She was only down for a second when another cough attacked her, doubling her over, quaking through her body like a violent aftershock. She sniffed pitifully and tried to take in a descent breath which didn’t really work. It was worse than he’d feared. Assessing the situation, he snapped from is-there-anything-I-can-do mode into I-have-to- do something mode.

“You need food.” Without more questions, he went into the kitchen. It was tiny but half-again as big as his. He found cans of soup in one cabinet. Tomato. Cream of mushroom. Next to them were two packages of Ramen noodles. They would start with noodles and work their way up. He grabbed a pan as another round of coughing punctuated the air outside the kitchen. He gave her 12 hours. If she didn’t sound any better by then, he was taking her to the doctor. That was all there was to it.

Liz drifted in and out, knowing she should be concerned for her safety. After all, she hardly knew the guy, and now, somehow he was somewhere in her apartment. She should go find out where, tell him to go home or something like that. But her lungs and strength did nothing to help her. Her mind told her he was in the kitchen. There were knives in the kitchen. Large ones. If he hadn’t brought one of his own, he could certainly use one of those.

Nightmarish thoughts wove around her body’s fight for air, weaving stories and scenarios she didn’t want to dwell on. Then again, if he had come to kill her, maybe that would be a good thing. Another cough gripped her, and this one made her head swim. Ugh. Yeah. Death might be preferable to this.

“Here. Here’s the last orange juice,” he said, materializing somewhere in the haze between the couch and the coffee table. “I’ll go get you some more after you eat something.”

She should sit up. Somehow she knew that, but no signals were getting to the parts of her that could make that happen. She let out a hard breath, pushed by frustration and humiliation. Her eyes fell closed, and her head fell back onto the pillow so convincingly that she forgot why she was trying to get up in the first place. The haze took over, and she floated on it, wondering what she’d even been thinking about before.

“Here.”

And then he was lifting her up, scooping up her shoulders and head so that somehow she came up to rest against him. His arm was around her, supporting her, and she did nothing to fight it off. She couldn’t. All of her strength was gone.

“Drink this.” He lifted the small can to her lips, and Liz kept herself awake long enough to take a couple small drinks. “I have some Ramen cooking. I found a can of chicken too, but it’s going to take a little bit to get that all together.”

“You don’t…”  But the words rasping out brought another cough ripping through her. She gripped her side where the mind-splitting pain jerked through her. She pressed on it with her hand to make it stop. It didn’t through the whole coughing fit. When the coughing finally subsided, she leaned back into him, spent. Her voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? No. Don’t be sorry. Are you sure you shouldn’t go to a doctor? I could take you there right now.”

Right now?
She wasn’t even sure when that would be. What time was it anyway? “I’m… okay.” A cough came up, but she got this one swallowed down. Taking shallow, nothing breaths was helping to keep it down. A drink and then another. “It’s just a cold.”

“Did you take the cold medicine?”

She shook her head. “I’m out.”

“No. That I brought for you last night.”

Liz fought the clawing persistence of the cough. It was coming up again. “No.” She lost the battle. This cough grated over her, shredding everything in its path.

“You didn’t?”

“No. I didn’t know you brought any.” She didn’t have time to answer any more before he untangled from her and vaulted off the couch. When he was gone, she was suddenly very cold and with no leaning post, she simply laid over, catching her weight with her face when it met the cushion on the opposite side. If she could just go to sleep and stay there forever, that would be a good thing. She coughed again, but only slightly. This one wasn’t too bad, more like the big cough’s baby cousin. She knew she should be concerned about where he had gone, but that got lost in all of the thoughts she didn’t even recognize. Maybe none of this was real after all. Maybe it was all just one giant illusion. At that moment, it seemed not just possible but highly likely.