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robe out on
the duvet. He was even kind enough to move the blow-up mattress
against the far wall so I wouldn’t have to maneuver around it with
my crutches. That would just be asking for trouble. After I knot the
silk sash to my robe in place, I hobble on crutches to the bathroom
to freshen up before I go search for him.
    Peering into the
mirror, I almost don’t recognize the person staring back. I’m
facing a complete stranger. I have a nasty bruise turning a wonderful
shade of purple on my forehead and there aren’t enough brushes in
the world to calm my hair. But what’s different is my eyes. Instead
of being vacant, a look that I have grown accustomed to, there is a
fire in them for the first time in six years. I look like I’m
finally alive again. Just as quickly, the fire is gone.
    I can’t shake the
feeling that it’s time for me to move forward. I need to make a
decision. I need to either start living, or I need to give up . . .
for good. As I leave my bedroom I realize that I don’t have a
choice to make. I already made it. I made it a year after the
accident when I decided to seek help. I want to live . . . I just
don’t know how.
    I make my way to the living room
before I call out for Jax. It’s hard to ignore the disappointment
that immediately follows the silence. I limp my way to the kitchen,
hating the crutches. I fight the smile that wants to appear when I
see a note from Jax in his neat handwriting.
    Had to run out to buy you a new phone since you decided to take your
poor, helpless phone down with you. I’ll bring home breakfast so
don’t eat. I already called the bakery and explained why you won’t
be in for the rest of the weekend so don’t bother getting dressed
for work. Take the medicine I left out for you with a glass of milk
    -Jax
    Call Logan.
    Rolling my eyes, I do
as I’m told. I’m annoyed that he placed all of my medicine on the
counter for me, even going as far as grabbing a glass, as if I don’t
know where I them. Men. Shaking my head, I open the fridge. After I
take the medicine, I snag my house phone and wobble to the living
room. I collapse onto the couch as gracefully as I can manage with a
sprained ankle.
    While waiting for him
to answer, I wonder if Logan will make Jax stay the entire time he’s
away. Logan picks up on the third ring, and by his worried greeting,
I have my answer to my unasked question. Yes, Jax will be my new
shadow until Logan returns. Hey, things could be worse. I could be
locked up in a basement with a serial killer. Okay, so it’s not
that bad, but I would enjoy myself a lot more if Jax would stop
playing with my emotions.
    “How are you feeling?
I know you didn’t sleep that good.”
    “How do you know how
I slept? I swear if you put cameras in my room last night I’m going
to kill you. That’s taking overprotective brother syndrome to a
whole new level, even for you.”
    “HA HA HA, Addie. No,
I didn’t need to put a camera in. I had the next best thing . . .
an actual person to watch over you for me. You kept him up all
night.”
    My brother isn’t as
funny he thinks he is.
    “How could I have
possibly kept Jax up all night? I was out in seconds once the pain
meds kicked in.”
    “You were tossing and
turning all night while sleep-talking.”
    And just like that, all
of the air leaves me. There are too many horrible possibilities of
what I could have said last night. I hope it wasn’t anything about
my unrequited love. Crap, suddenly I don’t want Jax to come home.
    “Everything you said
was incoherent, but you were talking gibberish all night and kept Jax
up. So I would be a lot nicer to him than you’re being to me.”
    “I’m always nice to
Jax.” Deciding to change the subject I ask, “So when are you
going to take over babysitting duty?”
    Logan hesitates before
answering. Not good.
    “We won’t be back
until Saturday night now. Take it easy and try to listen to Jax.”
Pausing, he says something to Connor that I can’t