Save Me (34 page)

“
I didn’t realize how much I hated being in here,” she says, grabbing her purse from the hospital table. “I wanna go home.”

I sit on her bed and face her in the chair. “I went by last night, cleaned it up a bit. I’m afraid some of your stuff got broken when you,” I point to her head.

“
I don’t wanna go there,” she says. “That’s not home to me.”

I search her face and she smiles, her puffy lips pulling at the white tape around the bandage.

“
I was gonna tell you that night that I want to live with you. I love you, Jack and I want us to be together, to live together.”

The floor is hard on my knees as I kneel in front of her and put my arms tenderly around her waist. I haven’t really been able to hug her, to hold her. I’m afraid of every gasp or intake of breath she has when I touch her.

“
I love you so much,” I whisper.

I want to kiss her hand, but her IV was there and now it’s been replaced by a big wad of gauze and a Band-Aid. I turn it over and kiss her palm and she strokes my face.

“
Can we go home now?” she asks.

The eye that isn’t bandaged is so clear and so eager. “Yes, we can go home now.”

I never thought my body could ache as much as it has these past two weeks. I watch from my chair by the window as Jack and Mark carry in boxes from my apartment.

"Here ya go," Claire says, sitting a cup of tea on the table in front of me. I've been home for over a week, but Claire still acts like I'm in the hospital.

"Thanks," I say, blowing the steam from the cup.

"Jack has a beautiful house," she says, looking around the kitchen and into the living room.

"I know," I say, sipping the tea. It warms me to my toes.

"Are you feeling better?" she asks for the thousandth time today.

I let out a heavy breath, the motion causing a strain on my fractured rib, and stare at all the boxes stacked in the kitchen. My head is still tender and my eye sometimes throbs uncontrollably as it heals.

"Yeah, just getting back to normal."

"I can't believe they released your name," Claire says, grabbing the Sunday paper from the table. There's no picture, but my name, as well as Jack's, is somewhere in the paragraphs that make up the third page article about what happened.

"It was bound to happen," I sigh. "I just don't wanna go out and face the world when the world knows only half of what happened from Nick's family's point of view."

"It'll blow over," Claire says, tossing the paper back on the table. "After the trial and everything is done, people will go on to the next thing."

I fiddle with the handle on the cup. "I hope so."

Claire takes a drink from her own cup of tea as Mark opens the door and sits a box down. She jumps from the chair and goes over to scoot it out of the way. Jack follows behind him carrying a stack of blankets. My quilt is folded neatly on top, all evidence of what happened washed clean.

"That's the last of it," Mark says, closing the door behind Jack who's stepping over the box to put the blankets on the counter. He walks over to me and bends down to put a gentle kiss on my mouth. He's so afraid of hurting me that his lips barely touch mine.

"You can kiss me a little harder than that," I mutter.

"Not yet," he says. He strokes my hair a little, careful to stay far away from the right side of my head. I wish everyone would stop acting like I'm some fragile porcelain doll.

"How about dinner?" Claire says.

"Pizza?" I pipe up.

"Whatever you want," both Claire and Jack say at the same time.

I sigh with frustration. "Listen guys, I appreciate how much you care, but you don't have to be so accommodating. I'm fine, really."

Mark puts his arm around Claire's waist and looks at me. "We know, Carls. We just wanna help any way we can."

I stand up and my legs are steady. "It's just bruising. I'm not broken."

Claire sighs heavily. "You're stubborn, that's what you are," she smiles.

"Hell yeah, I am," I nod. The stitches were taken out on Friday, but the side of my head is still tender and even the slightest movement feels weird.

Jack grins and puts his arm around me. "We're just happy you're okay." He kisses in my hair and I smile at him.

"I
am
okay," I say. What Nick did to me, what happened, is a little hazy in places, but my body is healing quickly and my mind is clear for the most part. The concussion was pretty severe and I'm starting to have a little memory loss of what happened. Luckily, the Detective got it all down. Nick's awake now, according to the paper, but he refuses to talk about that night. He's being released from the hospital and taken into custody tomorrow afternoon.

"So, we’re having pizza," Claire says, grabbing her phone from her pocket. She dials and orders two large pizzas with extra everything. My appetite has returned in the last couple of days and my mouth waters.

"And I want beer," I say. If they're gonna baby me, I'm gonna let them.

"Unh-unh," Jack shakes his head, his arm still around me. "No alcohol with your meds."

I groan and pretend to pout. "Well, hell."

"So when do you think you'll be cleared to go back to work?" Mark asks.

Jack shakes his head again. "She's not going back," he says.

I stare at him. "This is news to me," I say.

He looks at me and sighs with frustration. "I don't think you should. You don't have to. You only have two weeks left of school before you finish up. Then it'll be Christmas. You can take the winter off from everything, just relax and recuperate." I know he means mentally when he says recuperate because physically, my injuries are already becoming less of an issue for me.

"The man has a point," Mark chimes in.

Claire ends the call with the pizza place. "I think Jack's right," she says.

"Whose side are you on?" I huff.

"I'm on whatever side keeps you happy and healthy," she answers. "And right now, that's Jack's."

I'm happy to see that they get along so well, but it looks like I'm gonna be tag-teamed by the worrisome duo all night.

"Mark, help a girl out. Don't you think I could go back to work after the holidays?"

Mark puts his hands up and then points at Claire. "You think I'd argue with her? She's as stubborn as you are."

Claire smiles triumphantly and I decide to drop it, at least for now.

§

The pizza is gooey and cheesy and delicious. I eat four slices and drink three bottles of water. I lost almost fifteen pounds over the last two weeks. Hospital food might've played a part in it, as well as my lips being so sore, but mostly it was lack of appetite.

After dinner, Claire and Mark bundle up to head home. She promises to call me or come by tomorrow and I'm sure she will.

Jack sticks all the plates and glasses in the dishwasher and turns it on. Boxes sit all over the place. Most of my furniture is in storage, but what I did bring with me will help fill Jack's slightly empty house.

"I dread going through all these boxes," I sigh. The wound on my head itches a little and I gently rub my finger over it even though I'm dying to scratch it.

"I'll help you do it," Jack says. He leans across the counter at me. "I'll do anything you need me to."

I trace my finger over his outstretched hands.

"Anything?" I ask, smiling at him.

He looks up to me, his hair falling into the corner of his eye. I reach out and push it back.

"You're talking about sex, right?" Jack asks.

"Well, way to spoil it," I make a face.

"Carly," he starts. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"
Why not?
" he asks, his eyes peer up at me like I asked to go skydiving. "Because of everything you've been through, that's why not."

I breathe deeply and then exhale. "Nick didn't destroy me, Jack. He just hurt my body. I can't let him take anything more from me. Not who I am and not you."

Jack walks around the counter and wraps his arms around me loosely. I roll my eyes and grab his hands, pulling them tighter around my waist. Jack shakes his head, but doesn't loosen his arms.

"Nobody could ever take me from you,
nobody
." His lips touch mine, not as forcefully as they usually do, but harder than before. "I'm in love with you and that's never gonna change."

"When Nick was in my room," I swallow and Jack eyes me closely, "when he had the knife to my throat, all I could think about was you coming to save me. When he put his hands on me, I knew you wouldn't be able to look at me again if he actually did what he was trying to do."

Jack shakes his head and looks away from me for a second. "Carly, there's no way that I wouldn't want you. You're a part of me, a part of who I am as much as the heart that beats in my chest. I couldn’t live without you. You've changed me, changed who I am and without you, nothing would matter to me. Ever again."

His eyes burn into me with their darkness. I've cried so much in the last two weeks, but this time, my tears are for the right reasons. I hold up his hand, the bruises are faded to pale brown now, and kiss his fingertips.

"You saved me, Jack. Not only that night, but before that. You freed me from my own loneliness and you saved me."

Jack buries his face in my hair and puts his hand on my neck. His body shakes against mine and I hold him.

"You aren't the only one who feels that way," he whispers.

I kiss his face, my lips feeling more like my own with each touch of his skin. In this moment, the nightmare of Nick and all that he did to me seems far away, like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else. I'm now a stronger version of myself. Not a victim, tainted by Nick and his selfishness, but a fighter. A woman set free by knowing that I won't ever be the girl I was before. Something in me died a little that night, but something else was born. I know I can take care of myself, but I know I don't want to do it alone. I'm Jack's savior and he's mine. No matter who or what we go through, we'll always find a way to save each other.

“
Merry Christmas!” Claire shouts as Carly opens the door. Stray snowflakes hurry in around Claire and Mark as they stomp the snow from their boots. Carly steps to the side and they carry arms full of gifts into the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas
Eve
," Carly corrects her with a dry smile.

“
Cut it out, you Scrooge,” Jack shouts at Carly as he walks to Claire and takes the gifts from her hands. He's wearing a furry Santa hat that jingles when he moves.

“
It’s really coming down out there,” Mark says, shaking snow from his striped scarf.

“
Seven more inches before sunset, according to the weatherman,” Carly informs them darkly.