Page 99 of Beneath the Hood

A friend from back home.

Chewing my bottom lip, my fingers tremble as I type a reply.

Me: Who is it?

The three bubbles pop up and then stop over and over, and each time they do, my stomach screws tighter until it feels like it might crack from the pressure.

Jackson: Lee.

Jackson: I really want you to meet her.

I lay down my phone, my chest lighting up so quickly my face turns hot, my heart hurling itself against my rib cage.

Deep breath. One. Two. Three.

Me: Does she know about us?

Jackson: No, but I’d like her to.

My mind races, wanting to meet this girl, but not sure I’ll be able to control myself. I want to slap her for hurting him. I want to throttle her for showing up and taking away the small amount of time that we get.

But leaving them alone together while I sit and wonder where they are and what they’re doing feels like the worst type of purgatory.

So, it really comes down to picking which version of hell I want to sink into.

Me: I’d like to meet her. Can we do it somewhere private? Why don’t you two come here?

Jackson: Is your dad going to be there?

Me: No, he left town this morning.

Jackson: We’ll be there.

Jackson: I love you.

Anxiety twirls like a ballerina in the center of my stomach as I write him back.

I love him too. I just hope he doesn’t remember how much he lovesher.

* * *

Jackson textedaround two that they were on their way, and my insides have been raging in protest ever since. I thought about calling Kayla just to have someone to vent to, but she hasn’t been anywhere near supportive of Jackson and my relationship and I cower at the idea, not wanting to deal with having to defend himagain.

Besides, telling her about Jackson and Alina feels like a breach of his trust.

The intercom buzzes in the kitchen and I spring up from my spot where I’ve been staring into the security cameras, waiting impatiently for them to arrive.

My stomach squeezes as I open the gate and let them in.

One. Two. Three.

I prepared some snacks, things that I know will fit into my daily count, and food that will hopefully keep Alina from judging me too harshly. I’m already on edge from meeting her in the first place, and new peoplealwayshave something to say about the way I eat.

Walking to the front door, I swing it open just as they land on the top step, Jackson’s car parked in the circle drive behind them.

I paste on a big smile, the one I use for the cameras, and Jackson walks up and grabs me around the waist, pressing a tender kiss on my lips. A little bit of tension seeps out when he does.

He pulls back, his eyes looking so deep in mine I feel like they’re trying to draw out my soul. “Hi, princess.”

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