Page 87 of Give Me Perfect Love

He’s quiet for a moment as I walk into my room. I breathe in, happy to be home. Kicking the uncomfortable heels off my feet, I walk over to my bed and remove my earrings and bangle bracelets.

“Are you coming back?” he asks.

I look around my room, wondering what I am going to do. Mugs & Books has a grand reopening next week. We still have some last-minute things to get together in the kitchen and a menu to make. We’ve continued selling coffee from a stand for a few hours in the morning to keep the regulars happy. But I don’t think I can be there until my face heals. Becca, bless her, has been a godsend. She’s been working her ass off, and I know she needs a break. I’ve had a lot going on, and while I should have hired her some help, she insisted she could handle it.

I need to give that girl a raise and a paid vacation. I think I’ll call her today and tell her just that. To take a week and a half off.

I can’t show my face there. People will ask too many questions, and I’m in no shape to answer them. There’s been no arrest. There’s no proof that Cain did this to me, and I can’t deal with the looks.

I could handle them fine when I worked at the diner because no one asked me anything. They’d look, of course, but there were never any questions.

But with all that being figured out, I still haven’t answered Bryce. Am I coming back?

Of course, I am.

“Yes. I just need to grab a few things from here and, honestly, Bryce, I think Claire and I need to get checked out. My jaw is killing me, and Claire was raped.”

“Y’all can’t go to the hospital,” he says.

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Duh, we can’t go to the hospital. The man who did this to us is dead, and it wasn’t done in a legal way. I’m sure if Claire or I would have killed him, then it would have been self-defense. But we didn’t. It was done by another’s hand, and that person looked like he was good at it.

I have so much to ask Bryce. I need to know what the hell is going on in his life.

“I know someone. I’ll call them.”

“Umm, okay.” He hangs up without saying goodbye. I look at the phone, unsure of anything anymore, wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.

I grew up in house where illegal things were done all the time. I’m no stranger to people breaking the law, and it doesn’t bother me that much.

Like everything else I’ve dealt with, I’ve become immune to it. If you want to do shit that could landyouin jail or prison, that’s none of my business, but now, I’m afraid I may be the one who could get into trouble.

We all were witnesses to Cain’s murder. Claire, Austin, Jace, Bryce, me, and even Ben. Hell, Claire’s DNA was on the floor. And even though it all scares me, there’s this calm feeling inside of me that tells me it’s all going to be okay.

I can’t explain it. I have no idea why I feel that way, considering I have no answers to anything. I rub my face, the break of the skin on my wrist stings, reminding me I need to clean and wrap them. I stand up and remove my clothes, tossing them into the hamper.

I change into a pair of Adidas joggers and a long-sleeved T-shirt that readscoffee and books are my jam. I roll my eyes at the shirt, thinking how simple life was when I bought this thing.

Once I doctor my wrists, I hurry back downstairs with my phone to eat a little something and have a cup of coffee. Austin and Claire are sitting pretty close and eating in silence. I haven’t thought about their relationship in a while.

Bryce told me to stay out of it, so I have, but I know I heard Austin call Clairebabywhen he cut her free. I know they have secret looks and look at them now. Sitting side by side. She stayed with him when we found out Cain was back. I never asked if anything went on, because they grew up together.

This wasn’t the first time they’d slept in the same house together. It might have been the first time they stayed alone, though.

I smile as I grab my sausage biscuit, and it’s the first time I’ve smiled in more than a few days.

It hurts. I move my jaw, feeling the sharp sting of soreness. I wince, literally feeling as though a fucking truck has hit me. My back is sore, and my shoulder is black and blue from hitting the floor. My wrists burn, and my face feels like a balloon.

Life’s been nothing but a roller coaster for me lately. Huge hills of emotional shit. I take a few bites of my food, standing by the kitchen island. I look down at the cement floor as the heat kicks on above me.

My pale feet stand out against gray brown. My toes could use a paint of polish. I shake my head. I’m in need of some serious self-care. Claire winces when she stands up from the sofa, causing me to look up.

She’s hurting, just like me, except in different places. My eyes go down to her legs, remembering Cain ripped them open.

“You all right?” I ask her as she tosses her trash into the can.

She exhales. “Sore as fuck.”

“Yeah, me, too. We need to go to the doctor and get checked out. Make sure our injuries aren’t more serious.”

---