A few students started filtering out of the ballroom to see what all the commotion was about. All their eyes were on me.
“She can’t know that I’m here,” I said. “They’ll tell her. She’ll kill Kennedy.”
“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re okay now.”
“She can’t.” I was gasping for air.
“Okay.” Mr. Pruitt lifted me up in his arms. “I’ll get you out of here.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to James. “Call number three on my speed dial.”
I closed my eyes tight. I just wanted to be invisible again.
“You’re okay now, princess,” my dad said.
Princess. It was his nickname for Isabella. For his legitimate daughter. And for some reason, him using it for me made me feel so loved. Maybe I didn’t want to be invisible to him. I could get used to having a dad. As long as number three on his speed dial wasn’t something terrible.
Chapter 4
Saturday
The elevator doors dinged open. My dad carried me into his secret apartment. The only other time I’d been here had been when I first learned that I was a Pruitt. I’d spent the entire night completely terrified. But it didn’t seem scary this time. I’d choose to be here any day over his actual apartment. The naked walls and sterile feel of everything was comforting as long as Isabella wasn’t allowed in here. Maybe he’d just let me stay.
“Where are we?” James asked.
“Somewhere safe,” replied my dad.
I kept waiting for him to tell James to get lost, but he didn’t. And I was a little relieved James was still here. The whole car ride over, James had held my hand and told me to breathe while my dad drove like a mad man. Just breathe. I wasn’t sure why James had come with us. He should have been fixing things with Rachel, not worrying about me.
My dad carried me down the hall and into the bathroom.
“James, will you stay with her? I need to make a few calls.” He’d already talked to whoever was number three on his speed dial. But I hadn’t been able to make out any of their conversation on the ride over here, because I’d been gasping for air.
“Yeah,” James said. “No problem.”
My dad set me down on my feet and I cringed.
“It’s going to be okay,” my dad said and lightly touched my cheek. “Just keep taking deep breaths like James said. I’ll take care of everything.” His hand fell from my cheek.
“You mean Kennedy? You’ll make sure she’s okay?” I asked.
“I won’t let anything happen to your friend. You have my word.”
I trusted his word. I just didn’t trust that Isabella hadn’t already done something terrible. He pulled out his phone and left James and me alone in the bathroom.
James reached into the shower to turn it on.
“Can I have a minute?” I said. My voice was barely a whisper. The last thing I needed was for James to actually see me naked. I was already mortified enough.
“Of course.” James walked to the door. “I’ll be right outside. Call for me if you need anything.”
I nodded and he disappeared out the door, leaving it open a crack.
I didn’t wait for the water to warm up. I just needed this day off of me. I pushed my dad’s suit jacket off my shoulders and walked into the water with my bra and panties still on. I pressed my back against the wall and let myself cry. The water burned the scratches on my knee and the gash on the back of my ankle. And the bottoms of my feet. I whimpered and slid down the wall until my butt hit the cold tiled floor.
I didn’t know if Kennedy was okay. I didn’t know if Isabella knew I was still in the city. I didn’t know how my dad had found me. I didn’t even know if I was okay. Everything hurt. My muscles ached. The water in my cuts burned. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle my sobs. How the hell did I wind up here?
Just breathe. Of all the things that hurt, my chest ached the most. I wasn’t sure if it was my lungs or my heart. I just felt broken. I let the water cascade down on top of me, washing away my tears. The water ran red with blood down the drain. I hugged my knees to my chest and let myself cry.
I heard a noise and looked up.
James climbed into the shower fully clothed and sat down next to me. He was even wearing his shiny dress shoes. His arm brushed against mine. “You’re okay, Brooklyn.”
“Why are you helping me?”
He smiled, not at all phased by the water falling on us. “I think I already made it clear that I like you.”
“You’re in love with Rachel.”
He sighed and leaned his head back against the tile wall. He didn’t have to say it. I knew what he was thinking. That maybe she didn’t love him.
“And maybe I still feel bad about what happened at lunch when Isabella told everyone you were related to Jim. It was your secret to share if you wanted to. I had no right to tell Isabella. Especially since I knew she’d tell the whole school.” He looked over at me. “I swear I didn’t know about your mom. Not that that’s an excuse. I shouldn’t have threatened you.”
“You already apologized for that.”
“It doesn’t mean I stopped feeling bad about it. I feel like shit.” He laughed. “I always feel like shit.” He hit his head against the tile wall again and sighed.
“Well, I think you’ve more than made up for it.” I laughed, but it sounded strange in my throat. “You don’t have to sit here with me. You should go back to the hotel and try to fix things with Rachel. She’s probably furious with you.”
He shrugged, his arm brushing against mine again. “That can wait. My friend needs me.”
I looked over at him. “Friend?”
“Yeah, I guess. Since you won’t kiss me.” He smiled at me. “Besides, it just so happens I have an opening for some new friends.”
Matt and Mason. Thinking about the Caldwells and Hunters fighting just made my chest ache even more.
He reached up and grabbed a bar of soap. “Do friends soap each other up naked in the shower?” He raised his left eyebrow.
I laughed for real this time. “No they do not.” I grabbed the soap from him and looked down at my scratched knees. This was going to be painful.
“Maybe they soap each other up clothed then.” He took the bar of soap back from me. “Take a deep breath, this is going to hurt.”
I pressed my lips together and he ran a soapy hand across my knee. For some reason it wasn’t so bad when he did it for me. He ran the soap down my legs. The bottoms of my feet stung the worst.
“You’re okay,” he whispered. I barely heard his words over the falling water. “You’re okay.”
It had been a long time since I had felt so cared for. Probably not since the last time I was sick when my mom was still healthy. She used to let me rest my head on her lap as she combed her fingers through my hair. I was glad we were in the shower so that my tears mixed with the water. She used to sing to me. And I could barely remember what her voice sounded like. How could I forget her voice? How could my mind be missing such an important piece of information? It was like she was drifting farther away every day.