Page 104 of The Keeper
He shrugs.
“Who wants a boring life, Rach?”
“Me, Jeremy.Iwant a boring life.”
He smiles and reaches over to squeeze my hand, then turns his head to stare out the window.
“You know this wasn’t your fault either, right?”
He nods too quickly, and I know instinctively he’s going to tuck this away with a dozen other things that he believes he’s done to wrong me or other people he loves.
“Jeremy…”
“Let it go Rachel,” he says, softly but firmly, cutting me off. He looks over and gives me a small, insincere smile and squeezes my hand again.
I turn and look out my own window, wishing desperately that my sweet brother could instinctively know that I don’t blame him. I’ve seen the fire of self-hatred continuing to catch and grow inside of him over the past weeks.
And I don’t think my words are enough to put that fire out.
* * * * *
When Jeremy and I pull up in front of the hotel four hours later, I barely have my door open before Mack is there, reaching to support me as I climb out of the back seat.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you both for hours,” he says, his voice filled with emotions that I’m too tired to catalogue.
“My phone is still in the SUV,” Jeremy offers up as he circles the back of the cab. “Rachel’s broke in the accident.”
Jeremy steps towards me, likely to help me to my room. But Mack steps forward and puts his arm around me, using his other hand to take mine and assist me.
“I’ve got her,” Mack says, staring at Jeremy, who suddenly looks slightly unsure.
After way too long of a silence, Jeremy nods and steps back, his face looking slightly offended but resigned at the same time.
“I’ll call you on your hotel phone in the morning around 9am, okay?”
“Sounds good,” I reply. “Love you, Jer.”
He gives me a small smile, then hops into the cab and heads off, likely to pick his car up from the arena parking lot. We weren’t sure about the damage, but I don’t think it was too bad.
“Let’s get you inside,” Mack says, leading me into the small lobby.
I walk slowly, wincing with the pain. I was incredibly lucky not to have fractured or broken something, but I still have to deal with strained ligaments in my hip and leg, bruising all over the right side of my body, general soreness and the asphalt scrapes on the side of my face and arms where I hit the ground when I crashed back to the ground.
Telling the doctor that I didn’t want to take any pills is something I’m already starting to regret.
“Do you want me to walk you to your room or…” but before finishing, he trails off.
“… Or?” I ask.
He clears his throat and being so close to him I see his adams apple bob when he swallows.
“… Or do you want to stay in my room?”
His question is asked very quietly, almost like he’s embarrassed to ask it or is afraid the empty space around us will hear him. When I stop walking forward, mostly in surprise, he’s quick to explain.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay, I swear. After watching you fly into the air and not being able to go with you to the hospital, I just…” he breathes deeply and lets out a harsh exhale, “I just want to hold you close to me tonight. To know you’re really okay when you could easily have been seriously hurt.”
My heart speeds up slightly and I feel blood rush to my neck at the thought of spending the night in Mack’s room. But I know instinctively nothing is going to happen that’s too much for me. And the thought of getting to snuggle up next to him and look into his eyes before falling asleep?
