Page 20 of The Way We Fell

I open my eyes and stare directly at the nurse with what I hope is a menacing glare, before tipping my head back against the flat pillow and closing my eyes again. I hear the nurse sigh heavily, before her tray of instruments clatters lightly. I guess I’d better make myself comfortable in a hospital bed for the night.

“Just one last little scratch here, Mr Bevan, and then I’ll leave you in peace for a while.”

Chapter nine

Jay

Evenwiththedimmednighttime lighting, Flaggs supermarket is uncomfortably bright. I turn down the next aisle, staring at my feet as I drag one foot in front of the other, only to catch my toe on a loose piece of cardboard and pull up sharply. The still-empty metal basket looped over my arm swings and jabs me in the stomach.

“Jay?”

The sound is familiar. Embarrassingly, it takes me several seconds to realise it’s my name. The voice saying it is soft and sweet, like spring birdsong or the sunrise after a storm. I raise my eyes and immediately look right into the eyes of my little sister’s best friend. Katy Keller. The pretty blonde girl who drinks craft beer and reads books, the one who smells like oranges. The one whose smile is like sunshine. My friend, Katy.

Say something, Jay.

“Oh god, Jay, what happened?”

Too late.

Katy tidies the boxes she’s unloading into the fridge, shoving them haphazardly into a large metal cage, and then her small hand wraps around my forearm as her eyes search my face with concern. My bruised, beaten face. My black eye with the sutured cut on the brow. My split lip. My purple cheekbone and the healing cuts on the bridge of my nose. Thank god she can’t see the state of my ribs and stomach, or the grazes on my knees. That’s definitely not something she needs to worry about—and if I know Katy at all, I know she’ll be worrying already.

“I…”

God, I’ve been so on edge since it happened—even more so than normal. My new normal, at least.Before it happened. It. I haven’t even managed to say it. Since I was attacked. I haven’t told anyone. It’s been nearly a week, and this is the first time I’ve left home since—and even then, it’s only because my fridge is empty and I need to eat something with the antibiotics the nurse gave me after cleaning my wounds. I’ve avoided my appointments. I’ve barely responded to texts. There are several from Katy that received only one-word answers, and I’m just grateful that my sister is in Austin this week for work, otherwise I’m sure she’d be banging down my door for ignoring her messages. I just can’t bring myself to do anything with them.

It’s a one step forward, two steps back kind of scenario. Every time I feel like I’m getting better, closer to the old Jay, something happens. A nightmare, a trigger,something, and I’m right back to where I started. I’m on edge all over again, terrified of my own shadow, afraid to experience anything that isn’t blind stoicism, for fear of hurting someone or being hurt.

It’s been almost a week since I was hurt at work—since I was attacked—and the police are none the wiser as to who jumped me and why. Well, we all know why. I was carrying several thousand in cash, and I was unarmed. It hardly takes a genius to put two and two together there.

“Jay?”

Katy repeats my name, and her fingers flex, gripping my arm a little tighter. She leads me to the end of the aisle, peering from right to left, and then pushes through a set of wide double doors into a quiet, empty corridor behind astaff onlysign.Thank god. It’s near silent in here, just the sound of our breathing and the buzzing fluorescent lights echoing off the grey concrete walls.

“What happened, love?”

It suddenly occurs to me that I haven’t really spoken at all. I don’t think I’ve spoken since leaving the hospital. And I don’t know if I can. I focus on Katy’s hand on my arm. When she misunderstands and tries to pull it away, I hold it there with my other hand, and when I lift my eyes, they lock with hers, full of a curious blend of concern and encouragement.

“I was—I—”Spit it out, for fuck’s sake.“I was attacked. At work. I mean—I’m fine. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Fuck,” she breathes. “Fuck, Jay, Ruth hasn’t said anything—what the fuck? Are you sure you’re okay? What can I do? Do they know who did it? What’s—I mean, are they looking? What’s going on?”

Her words come out in a rush, worry giving way to pain in her big brown eyes.

“Ruth doesn’t know,” I whisper, dropping my eyes. I haven’t spoken to my sister since it happened. It might be the longest time we’ve gone without speaking—at least, while I haven’t been on a mission or otherwise deployed somewhere remote. I don’t know how to tell her. I don’t want her to know. I don’t want her to see me like this. She doesn’t need to worry about me.

“Oh, Jay,” Katy sighs. Her eyes fill with tears and I hate it. I hate that she’s crying for me. I hate that I can see her hurting and I don’t know what I can do to fix it. “You need to tell her.”

“Don’t cry, Katy,” I beg. I shake my head as I lift a hand to brush an errant tear from her cheek. “Please don’t cry. It’s nothing. I’m not—it’s not worth crying about.”Don’t dim her light, don’t dim her light.

She closes her eyes against my touch, a deep breath lifting her chest and shoulders as she squeezes the hand on my arm.

“That’s not true,” she whispers. “Can I do anything for you? Do you need anything?”

“I just need some food,” I answer. “Maybe something strong to take the edge off.” I try a laugh to go with the bad joke, but it sounds hollow. Katy narrows her eyes.

“Jay…”

“I’m kidding, Katy. I swear. I just need to fill my fridge and get some sleep. We’ll have lunch again soon? When are you off to Mexico?”

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