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business? I almost fucking died for you! You are my business.” It took everything I had to remain in place. I wanted to inspect her, myself. Fucking cutting? I hadn’t taken her for a cutter. Nothing in her chart, or even from my memories of watching her, threw any flags to me.
    “I didn’t think you’d jump! You weren’t supposed to.”
    “But I did and I told you to stay with me. But you didn’t, did you? You ran the first opportunity you got.”
    Tears rolled down her cheeks as the back of her legs connected with her full size bed.
    “I went back … several times. I checked on your progress.”
    Rage burned into my insides and I moved in even closer. “I didn’t want you there for me . I wanted to be there for you .”
    “I told you before, I don’t need help.”
    “Really?”
    My stare moved back to her thighs and her hands shot down to try to cover them.
    “I don’t need help. I’m doing better. You can leave here and you never have to worry about me again. I’m going to be fine.”
    “You seriously expect me to believe that? Look at you.”
    “Suicide was the problem, not my body. I have a job now. I still have some issues, but I’m pulling through. I’m trying to start over. It’s hard, but I’m managing.”
    God, I wanted to believe cutting was the worst of it, but I just couldn’t. Over the last two years, I had heard every story in the book, not to mention my own state of mind in the past. The only way I was going to know her was if I had her.
    “Let’s say I give you the benefit of the doubt and take your word for it. How do I know you won’t hurt yourself again when I leave? Or tomorrow? Or a week from now? What if it becomes too much and you end up on another cliff, or associated with something just as bad?”
    Lydia’s hesitation made it obvious she was searching for a lie. One to reassure me. Little did she know, I had expressions memorized. I knew dishonesty and calculation when I saw it. Not only from my business dealings, but from the number of slaves I had brought back from depths as low as hers. Hell, maybe even lower. I still couldn’t tell how bad off she was.
    “What if I promised to call?”
    “Not good enough. We both know when someone is set on suicide, they rarely call or reach out for help.”
    Slowly, she nodded, moving her hands to wrap around her waist.
    “What if I met with you once a week? You can check on me, yourself.”
    My head cocked to the side at her willingness, but I still wasn’t fooled.
    “No.”
    “Jaime.” The irritation was thick as her eyes shot to mine. “Once a week is a good deal. I don’t have to do anything if I don’t want to. I’m trying to work with you here.”
    “And I’m saying no. You’ll come back with me. You can stay at my place for a week or two and from there I should be able to decide if you’re alright.”
    “I’m twenty-six years old. I don’t need a fucking babysitter. I’m staying here.”
    “Then I’m staying with you.”
    I kicked off my shoes, shrugging off my suit’s jacket despite Lydia’s wide eyes. She was afraid. Off what, I wasn’t sure.
    “You can’t stay here. This is my room. I only have one bed and you’re not sleeping in it.”
    “Well I have two bedrooms, but you refused my offer so we’ll just have to manage. Unless you prefer I call social services and report your … condition.”
    Lydia’s lip peeled back in her anger. “You wouldn’t dare.”
    “I care about your wellbeing. Do you really want to find out how far I’m willing to go to save you? I think I’ve already jumped off a cliff to spare your life. Dialing a number will be a piece of cake.” At her pause, I shrugged. “Your decision—my place or yours?”
    “I’m not sleeping with you.” Her mouth set in a tight line. “In a bed.”
    A smile tugged at my lips and I didn’t have to say a word to get her all ruffled.
    “Or anywhere, Jaime. I’m… Fuck you .”
    “Hey, you’re doing the talking here. I’m