Page 72 of Quake
“I…” I looked at myself. I looked like I’d rolled in a pile of shit.
“Go have a shower and let me clean up a little. Do you have food in the fridge?”
I stared at her, not knowing how to take her kindness.
She raised her eyebrows before saying, “Never mind. I’ll have a look. You get your ass in the shower, and have a good scrub. I’ll be here when you get out.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the office?” I asked, still not understanding why my boss was so invested in my well-being.
“Pfft,” she said. “I’m the boss, and I’ll take a personal day when I want. God knows I’ve done enough overtime and extra days over the years to warrant at least one. Slattery can handle things without me for twenty-four hours. Fuck ’em!” Grasping my shoulders, she turned me around and aimed me toward the bedroom. “Shower. Now.”
The warm water helped with easing my tight muscles and making me smell a great deal fresher. When I stepped out and dried off, I returned to my bedroom to find Jade had straightened the covers and tidied the junk off my bedside table.
Overwhelmed, I dragged on some clean clothes, already starting to feel human again.
I found her in the little kitchenette attempting to cook a pot of pasta and carbonara sauce on my stovetop. She was making a right mess of it, but it smelled delicious.
“Don’t get too excited,” she said when she saw me hovering. “It’s one of those packets with the powder inside. I’m not aiming forMasterChef.”
I almost broke down on the spot. Tears welled, and my throat tightened, guilt spreading faster than I could control it. I didn’t deserve this. Not after all the terrible things I’d done.
“My name isn’t Juliette,” I said. “It’s Meagan O’Connor.”
Jade stared at me for a moment, confusion in her eyes.
“My twin sister was m—”
“O’Connor!” she blurted, cutting me off. Dropping the spoon in the pot, she turned and picked up a strand of my hair, twisting it around her finger. “Blonde twins,” she added, her gaze downcast. “I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged, too afraid to speak. A single, traitorous tear escaped my eye and slid down my cheek.
“Oh, Jules,” she said, pulling me into her arms. “Don’t cry.”
“I’ve made a mess out of everything,” I sobbed. “I can’t go back.”
“Yes, you can,” she said, rubbing her palm in soothing circles on my back. “Whatever’s happened, Caleb’s still out there waiting for you. Whatever your past holds, he doesn’t care.”
“I… I can’t.” She didn’t understand. It wasn’t as simple as going back and picking up the pieces. His father was waiting in the wings, ready to tell the world the truth about Mel. He would destroy my family’s and my life. Theystillsuffered, and the media getting hold of the part I played that night would destroy them completely.
Jade turned back to the pot and took it off the heat, tipping the contents into a bowl she’d found in the cupboard.
“You have to do something,” she said, sticking a fork into the carbonara and sliding the bowl down the bench toward me. “That man is frantic.”
I stared at the steam rising from the pasta, not knowing how to pull myself out of the deep depression I’d sunk into.
“He asked me to give this to you,” Jade said, foraging in her purse and handing me a white envelope.
“A letter?”
Jade nodded and sighed dramatically. “Fucking romantic.”
I stared at it, my hand shaking.
“Whatever happened to break you two up, he doesn’t seem to care about it,” she went on. “He called me, Jules. Well, he called you at work, and I answered. I gave him an earful, then he tells me you broke up with him!”
“He what?” I stared at her with wide eyes. He couldn’t know the whole truth, then. If he did, then none of this would be happening.
“He called me, frantic and argumentative, afraid you’d done something to hurt yourself. Pleaded with me to find you and make sure you were okay.”
