Page 66 of Count On Me

Except for this past Monday. When I got a text from Angie telling me Edie needed me, I didn’t hesitate…

I check my phone for what seems like the millionth time in a few minutes and sigh loudly when no new notifications show. It’s eleven pm, Edie’s probably fast asleep, not worrying about me. I wish I was too. But I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see her laying on the sidewalk, paler than ever, bruised and bloodied. It’s an image I’ll take to the grave with me. If only I’d…

The vibration of my phone distracts me from the incessant loop ofif onlysgoing through my head and I sit up in bed and smile when I see Angie’s name appear on my screen. Erin and Angie have been texting me updates about Edie, and I appreciate them both more than they’ll ever know.

Angie

Jaxson, she keeps having nightmares. This was one of the worst I’ve seen. She’s just crying and I can’t console her. Erin’s at her friend's house, I don’t want to disturb her. She needs to unwind. What should I do?

I don’t bother to respond. There’s only one thing that will soothe her and that’s me. Her best friend. Before all of this, there was Jaxy and Eddie. And I swear it will always be Jaxy and Eddie, best friends forever, even if that's all we are.

Throwing on some sweats, a hoodie, and a ball cap, I charge through Lockheart’s house like a bull seeing a red flag. After what seems like hours but was probably only a few minutes, I’m outside Edie’s hotel room, gently knocking. I tip my head to Bruce stationed outside and he smiles back.

“Jaxson, what are you doing here?” Angie asks when the door finally opens, her eyes wide in shock.

“She needs her best friend. Her other best friend,” I tell her when she starts to argue. I know she also lays claim to that name, but what Edie needs right now Angie can’t give her. Fortunately she also recognizes that and motions toward a closed door behind her. I head straight through it and find Edie huddled on the bed, sobbing, her legs pulled up close to her chest.

She looks up at me and shakes her head, but before she can protest, I open my mouth and tell her, “I love you too damn much to let you go through this alone. I promise I’ll go as soon as you’re okay, but right now you need me, Eddie. You need Jaxson, your best friend. Let me still be him. Please.” When she nods gently, I take my shoes off, place my cap on her nightstand, and climb on the bed next to her.

It takes everything in me not to kiss her tears away, but I don’t. She doesn’t need her boyfriend now, she needs the old Jaxy. The one who’d protect her, nurture her, and leave after. Even if it’sa million times harder now.

I wrap my arms around her, grab the cover from her feet and wrap it over us. Laying us down in the bed and spooning her from behind, I brush her hair from her face, place my fingers on my lips and then on her temple. She sighs loudly and the sobs start to die away. I know this is my cue. Taking a deep breath, I quietly sing the chorus to our song, “Count on Me” by Bruno Mars.

She snuggles into my arms and I hold her tightly against my chest. It’s something we’ve always done. Even when I was in America, she’d call me when she was upset and I’d sing to her. No one else knows I can carry a tune, just her. And that’s how it’ll always stay.

Her breathing steadies and I know she's asleep, but instead of leaving, I place a gentle kiss on her cheek and whisper, “I love you, Edie. I’ll always be here when you need me.” I lay there for about an hour, silently holding her, providing the solace I know she needs but would never ask for.

Once I know she's sound asleep, I ease out of her bed, writing ‘Jaxy + Eddie 4Eva’ on her notepad before slipping from her room.

I don’t expect to see anyone in the living area of the suite and jump when two smiling faces greet me.

“Well done, Son.” Erin hugs me and Angie high fives me.

“She’ll get there. Don’t go back to being a douche.”

I chuckle at Angie, promising I won’t, and head back to Lockheart’s.

It killed me leaving her. But I made a recording of me singing our song and sent it to her. I haven’t heard about a nightmare since.

Not being able to speak to her like I want to is the hardest thing about all of this, but I promised her, and I’ll show her one way or another that I’m trustworthy. I let the hot jets of the shower wash over me, washing my hair as well before stepping out and throwing on some sweats and joining Lockheart upstairs.

Walking into Lockheart’s living room, a strange man stares back at me. With my brows furrowed, I turn my attention to Lockheart who raises his brow, his arms folded across his chest.

“What is this? A fucking one person intervention. Did you bring in a therapist? I already have one of those. I don’t need another. Sorry, dude.”

The man smiles at me and I frown back at him. Lockheart extends his hand to the black barber’s chair in the corner of the room. I didn't pay any attention to it when I walked in, but now that I see it, I frown harder at him. “You’re making me get a haircut?”

He steps forward and tells me abruptly, “I’m fed up with watching you mope about and looking like a yeti. For some reason you look even more annoying than normal. Your beard needs trimming, or shaving completely if you ask me, and you need a fucking haircut.”

“I don’t want one.” I retort back like a brat and spin away from him.

“Tough.” Lockheart states and I turn slightly to face him.

“What you gonna do, pin me down and take a razor to my face?” I laugh and shake my head as I try to head back the way I came. A hand to my shoulder stops me but I don’t turn around.

“If I have too, yeah, I will. Enough is enough. You’ve had enough time. Jordan’s gone and it’s time you got your girl back. Red’s miserable too. You need each other, but she needs you, not this beast.”

“Eddie’s miserable?” I ask, my voice thick with emotion.

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