Page 24 of Guarded from Corruption

Personally, I don’t think Felix has it in him. He’s a slightly off-putting chiropractor with a tendency to talk too loudly and mansplain, but to help coordinate my abduction and captivity? I don’t see it.

Another unpleasant discovery for the day is that apparently I quit my job. Someone emailed my work, from my laptop, no less, and submitted a letter of resignation. They claimed I was quitting so I could travel and find myself.

As if that sounds anything like me.

But it came from my email, so Dr. Regan believed it. And when my friend Olivia tried to report me missing after she couldn’t reach me for three days, the police claimed my resignation was a simple explanation.

“Your parents didn’t report you missing,” Niall told me with a frown. “Is that odd?”

It isn’t, and I’m not surprised in the least. My parents and I aren’t particularly close—they don’t approve of me, and I’ve given up trying to please them—so we’ve settled on an unspoken schedule of communication. One phone call each month, visits whenever my mother hosts one of her events, a stilted Christmas dinner, and a requisite appearance at my father’s big company gala each year.

Since my last phone call with them was only two weeks ago, they wouldn’t think to worry. And I’m okay with that. But when I explained it to Niall, he got this strange look on his face and said quietly, “I didn’t know, Jade. I’m sorry.”

If Niall wasn’t so darn nice, maybe I wouldn’t feel so conflicted.

Maybe I wouldn’t keep thinking about everything that happened between us.

But since I’ve gotten here, I can’t stop thinking about that terrible day. Each time I see Niall’s photos with his Green Beret team, I feel sad and guilty all over again. And when I see his pictures with Shea, his arm always wrapped protectively around her, I can’t help flashing back to the horrible words I flung at him.

And I can’t stop remembering what he said to me.

As we faced each other in the small waiting room outside the ICU, he snapped, “You’re a PA, Jade. A damn medical professional. How did you not notice? You live in the same city. You’re her best friend. How did you fucking miss this?”

I’d been asking myself the same thing. Torturing myself with it, really. But I’d been busy with my new job, and Shea kept making excuses not to see me. She had a date. She was working late. Her cramps were terrible. The new neighbor next door had invited her over and she wanted to be polite.

Everything sounded normal. And when I’d call or text Shea, she sounded okay. Not just okay. Happy.

Things were fine even though her boyfriend, Oliver, was working overseas. She loved her job. Niall was doing great.

I should have pushed. I should have insisted on seeing Shea sooner. I should have thought about that time in college, after she broke up with her first boyfriend, when she started starving herself.

If only I’d thought.

But instead, two months went by before I finally showed up at her apartment; after she hadn’t returned my calls in days.

The landlord finally let me in, and when I first saw Shea, I was sure she was dead. Emaciated, barely conscious, lanugo all over her body, hair falling out…

My best friend. Near death. And I failed her.

Once I got Shea to the hospital, I knew I had to reach Niall. It took hours to find someone at the base that could help me because he was overseas. I couldn’t even talk to him, all I could do was leave a message saying it was an emergency, and Shea needed him.

By the time Niall got there, two days later, rumpled and red-eyed and features drawn with worry, Shea was out of the woods. But when he came back into the waiting room after seeing his little sister so ill, he blew up at me.

Blamed me.

Upset, stressed, sick with worry and guilt, I threw the accusation back at him. I said if he hadn’t been so concerned with his job, he would have been there for Shea. That he had a responsibility to be around since their parents weren’t. That the blame fell on his shoulders as much as mine.

I still feel ill thinking about it.

Three months later, Niall left the Army. His contract was up, and he chose not to re-up so he could be there for Shea.

I was happy for Shea; having her brother around would help, but I was heartbroken for Niall. The thing he was most proud of—being a Green Beret—was over.

If only I’d paid closer attention.

It was too hard to see Niall after that, even after our sharp words had dulled. Even after we exchanged apologies, I felt too guilty.

But now I’m here, and I’m reminded of how much it hurt all over again.

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