Jamie nods. "I'm sorry, sir. There's just?—"
"No excuse for swearing or yelling at a woman."
Bending to the side, I try to get a better look at the older guy, but accidentally catch his narrowed gaze. I feel the blood drainfrom my face. There's something about the man that makes me feel like I need to be careful.
I'm glad Cassidy and Violet have a neighbor looking out for them, even if he looks like he might fall over any moment.
"Cass, honey!" the old man calls, voice wavering as he forces himself into the apartment. Cassidy smiles big at him, which does wonders for my anxiety. Thank fuck someone can still smile around here. I was beginning to think I had ruined everyone's lives.
"Shouldn't you be napping?" Cass teases while typing on her phone.
Jamie, Nate, and I watch them like a hawk, all of us probably hoping she's sending Blue's address.
The old man grumbles something and seats himself at the counter. Cassidy doesn't even so much as glance at Nate and me when she looks up from her phone.
"Jamie..." She hesitates. "I'll send you Blue's address on two conditions."
"Anything," Jamie promises.
Anything other than Nate and me staying away, I want to add. I don't, though, because I have no ground to stand on.
"Respect her wishes," Cassidy starts, sounding far more serious than I've ever heard her.
Jamie nods. "Of course."
"But don't let her retreat. She's spent way too long hiding herself from the world; she will need you to push her. Be persistent, be honest, and for the love of god, tell her to fucking call me."
Jamie salutes her with a small smile. "I'll do my very best. And I'll text you when I find her. Promise."
Cassidy looks like she's ready to cry as Jamie rushes out the door. Nate and I don't linger. We need to follow Jamie as if it's the end of the world and he has the final bottle of water.
Here we come, Bubbles.
Three
VIOLET
“Eyes open. Eyesopen."
Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I hold on to lucidity for dear life, no matter how much I don't want to. I don't want to be awake. I’d rather not think or feel.
Convincing myself I can make it to my mom's house safely gets harder and harder as the drive goes on. The sun is long gone, and my back pinches from hovering close to the steering wheel in fear I'll hit a deer. It's tedious and requires continued motivation to stay awake. My eyes simply want to close and block out the pain in my heart, mind, and body.
I've been driving for so long, I'm not positive I'll make it to Chicago on this second tank of gas. I've been so focused on keeping myself alive and moving forward that I let my tank get dangerously low a few hours ago.
Darkness clouds my eyesight, blocking out the lights on my dashboard. A gasp makes me choke as I fling my eyes open once again.
I don't think I can do this. I really don't think I can do this.
I have to do this.
"Almost there," I remind myself, needing all the encouragement I can get. Except my throat feels thick with so much emotion, I'm not sure how I've managed to stay alive this long.
It feels like my body is trying its best to give up and give out against the steering wheel. I've had to turn my phone on do not disturb because each time someone called me, I'd cry all over again.
Just when I think I have no tears left, more flow fast down my cheeks. I thought I was done crying. Everything was good. We were all happy.
Or was it all an act?
