Page 101 of Bring Me To My Knees

“You were there?”

“You called me,” he says.

That’s when I remember. I called him instead of nine-one-one. My face heats up, because I’m concerned with what my brother must think about that.

“Don’t worry about it. We had a lot of time out in the waiting room to hash things out,” Mitch says, squeezing my hand.

I look back and forth between the two of them, wondering what he means by that.

“I’ll tell you everything when you’re feeling up to it,” Mitch says, seemingly reading my mind. “I was thinking, maybe you could come live with me for the rest of the summer. I can help take care of you and get you back on your feet before school starts back up,” Mitch says.

I look over at Delaney, I don’t want her to feel like I’m abandoning her.

“He said I could come by anytime,” she says, smiling.

“Okay. I think that would be a good idea. Are you sure I won’t be imposing?” I ask him.

“No, because between me and Clark, there will always be someone around.”

Clark must have the same thoughts as me, because we both look at him confused.

“What?” Clark asks.

“You didn’t really think I’d let my best friend continue to live in that dump, did you?” Mitch asks.

Clark frowns. “It’s not a dump.”

“It definitely is,” I say, laughing.

“Maybe I don’t want to move back in,” he says, frowning.

“I’m not giving you a choice. You also need to tell Marley about what’s going on. She’s been worried about you,” Mitch says, surprising me.

Clark nods but doesn’t respond. Whatever they talked about must have opened Mitch’s eyes. I’m almost waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Delaney, do you want to go down to the cafeteria with me?” Mitch asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

She looks back and forth between me and Clark, before agreeing. I watch the two of them leave, and then Clark walks over to me, leaning down to wrap his arms around me. The familiar scent of his cologne hits my nose.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he whispers against my ear.

“Yeah,” I tell him.

He pulls away, sitting in the chair next to me.

“I’m sorry about everything, beauty.”

“What do you have to be sorry about?”

“One, the way I acted when you were at my apartment, but also for the accident.”

I scrunch my nose up in confusion.

“Why would you need to be sorry for the accident?” I ask.

He sighs, leaning back in the chair, running his hand over his face.

“I’ve got some things I need to tell you,” he finally says, dropping his hands to his lap.