Saving Amy, page 9
“Good morning yourself.” His bright green eyes widened in surprise and his now familiar wicked grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. I looked away from him, knowing his face – and the fact he was wearing nothing but his black, low-hung jeans – would distract me and I’d end up burning everything. He had a white t-shirt draped over his arm and I was both wishing he would put it on and keep it off in equal measures.
He held such confidence as he strode his gloriously half-naked body over to me. And why wouldn’t he? He was gorgeous… and the vain bastard knew it. I swear he spent over an hour in the bathroom getting ready for work every morning.
When his body was in touching distance of mine I heard him sniff exaggeratedly – trying to suss out what I was cooking.
“Bacon and eggs,” I informed him – answering his unspoken question and looking at him just long enough to wink. He peered into the sizzling pan over my shoulder and the bare flesh of his muscular arm brushed mine. That had happened six times in the past week – yep, I was pathetic enough to count – and each time injected my body with that mystifying charge, tingling as it spread through my veins like wildfire.
“Smells good.” He nodded his head in approval. What? No lecture? No telling me to rest? “I’ll wait in here shall I?” He grabbed the newspaper from the counter and tucked it under his arm as he gestured his head towards the dining suite.
I ogled him as he slid into his seat, humming along to The Turtles’ ‘Happy Together’, which was playing in the background from his ‘Sixties’ iPod playlist. His eyes were mischievous. He was letting me play housewife and I was revelling in being able to repay some of his kindness. You owe him a lot more than breakfast, my subconscious sneered. I wondered where it’d been hiding lately.
I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a breathing cliché, but I’d noticed this warm and fuzzy – almost ticklish – sensation bouncing around my insides over the last few days. I had no idea what it was. I wondered if that was what happiness felt like. Or maybe the knowledge that I was safe. Perhaps this was what ordinary non-fucked-up people felt like all the time?
All I knew was that it felt pretty nice – refreshing even. I’d been sleeping straight through which gave me bountiful amounts of energy during the day. I’d stopped crying myself to sleep for the first night in… well forever. I hadn’t thought about cutting once – not once. Something was different about me – something had changed. Hell if I knew what. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would last forever - I just hoped it stayed around a little longer.
Breakfast was ready a few minutes later and although everything was cooked pretty well, my thrown-together-in-a-big-heap plate of food looked shameful compared to the works of art Richard had been serving me for the past week. When he saw me approaching, Richard folded up his newspaper and pulled his t-shirt on. I stared a little too fervently at his perfectly defined chest muscles, watching them flex as he raised his toned arms above his head.
Wow, I think I actually drooled a little.
He eyed up the plate expectantly. When he saw the food he raised an incredulous eyebrow at my cooking abilities. At least I hoped he was faking.
“It’s all in the taste,” I teased. He laughed softly – such an adorable sound. After setting my own plate down I sat on the chair next to him - I had been moving progressively closer during my time here – and tucked into the perfectly cooked bacon. Mmm. It was delicious – the perfect crisp. I was quite impressed and more than a little proud of myself. I’d never cooked for anyone before.
“Will you take me home after breakfast?” I hadn’t heard from my mom or dad since the night which brought me here – not that I expected to of course.
“Why the hell would I do that?” he demanded and a flash of what looked like rage caused his eyes to shoot open.
“I need some of my things,” I replied, shrugging.
“I can buy you anything you need. You don’t have to go back there.”
I appreciated the gesture but I couldn’t take any more from him. He had issued me with a full wardrobe of clothes and enough toiletries to last me an entire year this past week. There was no point in telling him as much – again. As usual he would no doubt wave me off and tell me to do as I was told.
“I want to go,” I protested. “I’ll feel better when they know I’ve left for good.” And hopefully it would put an end to the fear of waking up in the middle of the night to my dad banging Richard’s door down. There was no denying I was dreading going home – shitting it would perhaps me more fitting – but I needed to face it… end it.
“Although I know I can’t stay here forever. I will find somewhere soon. I promise,” I felt obliged to add. He shook his head, dismissing me. He did that a lot. In theory it should’ve pissed me off, but in some bizarre way it might me feel… protected.
“Well I’m coming with you,” he insisted and once again I was having breakfast with Bossy Doctor Guy.
“You’re not,” I insisted, equally bossy. He was risking enough for me as it was. I wasn’t prepared to put him in the firing line of my father. “You can wait right outside,” I tacked on when I sensed the unease radiating from his body. ”If I’m not out within fifteen minutes feel free to don your cape and break in to rescue me.” I winked at him, hoping to lighten the suddenly dense atmosphere. It didn’t work. His eyebrows were pursed so tightly together his forehead must surely have ached.
“Fine,” he grudgingly agreed.
We were silent throughout the rest of breakfast and again through clearing the dishes. I felt like he was annoyed with me and I didn’t like it. I hated disappointing him. Was that a bad thing? Had I become weak and needy?
Yes. Yes I had.
I could feel Richard’s eyes boring into my back as I made my way down the gravelled drive. My dad’s car was missing and relief washed through my veins. My pissed-up mother I could deal with. When I reached the door I realised I didn’t have my keys – I didn’t have anything anymore – and I knew if I had to knock she wouldn’t answer. I sighed, frustrated. I’d wasted my time. Still, I decided to give the handle a tug before I left and to my great surprise, it was unlocked.
She always locks it.
I walked inside even more apprehensively now, wondering what state she must be in to leave the house unsecure.
“Jim?” I heard my mom mumble from the living room. She must’ve been expecting my dad home soon. I needed to be quick.
“It’s me,” I declared, walking towards the sound of her voice.
“Amelia,” she gasped, seeming surprised to see me. “Your father will be home soon,” she said but it sounded like a warning – as if she was helping me by telling me to leave. For a brief second it sounded like she gave a damn. How ridiculous.
I shrugged emotionlessly at her.
“I’ve moved in with a friend. I’ve just come for my things.” Turning sharply on my heels I headed – ran – to my bedroom. Despite trying my best to act nonchalant my stomach had twisted into a thousand knots at the prospect of seeing my dad, so I hurriedly threw as much as would fit into my old black rucksack from under the bed. I was back downstairs in under five minutes and I dashed straight for the front door.
“Amelia?” my mom called after me without bothering to get up.
“What?” I deadpanned.
“Be safe, baby girl.” Her words burrowed into my tear ducts causing a small river to flow over my face.
What the hell was that?
I felt stunned and confused and I hated her more than ever. Of all the times to show me the slightest hint of affection she chose now – when I’d finally escaped. I’d at long last found the courage to discard any kind of fucked-up relationship we ever had and she did that to me.
My heart was pounding, my mind was reeling and my cheeks were flooded with tears. I ran desperately back to Richard’s car and was met with an expression of stark alarm when he saw the state I was in.
“What is it? What happened?” he pressed anxiously.
“Nothing. I’m fine I promise. My dad wasn’t even there. I guess it was just overwhelming being back in that house,” I lied and hoped he believed me. I think he did. He patted my knee reassuringly and his touch resonated throughout my entire body.
“Good. Let’s get you home.”
Home? I wondered if he realised what he’d just said or if it was a simple slip of the tongue. I could’ve quite easily obsessed over it so I made myself let it go before I gave my subconscious a chance to make me feel like shit.
Turning away from me, Richard brought his impressive Mercedes engine to life and sped off before I’d even put my seatbelt on.
I walked back into Richard’s apartment without feeling so much as a flicker of awe. I must’ve finally been getting used to the magnificence of the place. Nothing seemed too big anymore. Turning to the hall after closing the front door behind me I smacked straight into Richard – our chests touching, his warm breath blanketing my face.
“Sorry,” I muttered, feeling a little breathless. He stared at me for what felt like minutes, but was really only a couple of seconds longer than necessary – neither of us moving an inch.
“Don’t be,” he said, his voice low, raspy as he made no attempt to move. His harsh breathing mirrored mine and for a few long seconds our eyes seemed incapable of leaving one another.
“I, um… better get this to my room,” I said croakily, stumbling back a step and wondering what the hell had just happened. Why was my chest suddenly throbbing like it was about to detonate? Richard nodded and one side of lips turned up into what looked like a nervous smile. Then I practically ran to my bedroom with my rucksack in one hand, clutching my aching chest with the other.
Setting my bag on the bed, I rummaged through it to see what I’d manage to salvage. I pulled out my favourite grey sweats – threadbare and full of holes but oh so comfy – a few t-shirts, some underwear, my make-up case and what I called my shoebox of memories… but really it was just a box full of birthday cards from Julie.
Next I pulled out my purse, my cell, my notebook and my black travel alarm from my bedside table. Bizarrely, despite this whole apartment being kitted out with an endless array of impressive and baffling gadgets, my bedroom didn’t have a clock. I knew my subconscious would have something to say about me referring to it as my bedroom so I threw my things back in my bag and left the room before it had a chance to pipe up.
“I’ve made you some coffee,” Richard said warmly, handing me a tall white mug when I entered the living room. I smiled gratefully and as I opened my mouth to thank him I was interrupted by the sound of his apartment buzzer.
“Come on up,” I heard him say from the hallway before hanging up the receiver. I was suddenly nervous. It’d only ever been the two of us here. “I won’t be long,” he muttered to me without saying who it was. Then he left the room and headed for the front door. Being the nosey bitch that I was, I crept towards the hallway and paused behind the door, my hand cupping my ear.
“It could’ve waited until work tomorrow. You didn’t need to go out of your way,” I overheard him say. He sounded… nervous. It didn’t suit him.
“It’s no trouble - I was passing anyway. So? Aren’t you going to invite me in?” a woman’s voice teased. I was sure I recognised it.
“Um, I’m a little busy just now,” Richard answered as if trying to get rid of her. Was he ashamed of me? Of course he is… My heart sank a little.
“Oh, Richard… just let me in,” she demanded playfully and then I heard her push past him. I bolted from the doorway before I was caught eavesdropping red-handed.
Ugh. It’s her, my subconscious snarled as Joanna Interfering Shrink Lady sauntered into the room. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me. Richard stood behind her, rubbing his forearm. I’d noticed he only did that when he was mad or frustrated.
“Amelia?” she noted in surprise, offering me a tight-lipped smile.
“She prefers Amy,” Richard interrupted and she glowered at him with a what-the-hell-is-going-on face.
“Amy could you leave us alone for a while?” Richard asked me. I nodded once and immediately left the room, but I planned to hear every word the officious bitch had to say so I headed to my bedroom opposite the great living room, leaving my door ajar. I wasn’t quite sure why I hated her already – I just knew that I did.
“What is she doing here?” she asked disapprovingly, almost scolding him. She was trying to whisper but I could hear every word.
“She’s staying here for a while. She’s been having some trouble at home.”
“And that’s your problem… why?”
That right there. That was why I hated her.
“She’s been through so much. She has no one else, Joanna. What was I supposed to do? Leave her to fend for herself and probably end up dead somewhere?” Just then the reality of my situation slapped me in the face. It was too easy to forget while I was with him.
“Everyone who comes into the hospital has problems, Richard. You can’t take your work home with you. You know this… I don’t get what you’re playing at.”
“Like I said, she has no one else.” He was getting irritated and even though I couldn’t see him, I just knew he would be rubbing his forearm.
“You’re making no sense! We have systems in place for girls like her. There are plenty of people to help. Your job was to fix up her spine and send her home – not invite her to live with you!” All efforts to whisper had disappeared. I waited anxiously for Richard’s reply but it turned out she hadn’t finished her little tirade. “You could get struck off if this gets out. Is she really worth risking your career for?” My ears pricked up, eager to hear his response.
“That won’t happen. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Have you completely lost your mind? You’re screwing a patient! You’ve abused your position of trust, of course there’ll be consequences.”
Woah…
“Hold on a second… I’m not screwing her, Joanna. She needed a friend and that’s exactly what I’m being. Besides, she’s not my patient anymore.” My heart couldn’t seem to stop itself from doing a little dance. I wasn’t his patient. Did that mean something could… I shook the thought away quickly. It would only lead to disappointment.
“I know what’s going on here…” Any eerily long silence followed and I wondered if Richard was as intrigued as I was to hear her theory. “She’s not Kate.”
What’s his dead sister got to do with anything, my subconscious hissed.
“Trying to save this girl because you couldn’t save your sister? It’s just not right.”
“DON’T YOU DARE bring her name into this!” Richard roared – and I mean really roared. It was the first time I’d ever heard him angry. I didn’t like it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- look all I meant was, I know you blame yourself for not noticing Kate’s problems, and maybe you’re seeing this as an opportunity to put things right?”
Problems? I was suddenly eager to know how she died but it wasn’t the kind of thing I could just blurt out over the breakfast table.
“I want you to leave now,” Richard said curtly.
“There’s no need for that. I can’t lie, I still don’t understand what’s gotten into you – but I am sorry I’ve upset you.”
“Please, Joanna… just go.” He sounded so dispirited. I’d grown so attached - too attached - to his velvety voice (even his Bossy Doctor version), and hearing him sound so sad panged in my heart.
This was all because of me. As much as I’d decided I hated Joanna – ugh, even thinking her name went through me – I knew deep down that she was right. Richard was putting so much as stake for me… and for what?
My mind began to ache as I frantically ransacked it for answers. I found nothing. I couldn’t think of one single reason for Richard being so good to me. I was nothing special. As far as Richard was concerned I was just a depressed young girl with a screwed-up home life and drug problems.
Problems…
Realisation swiped me across the face and suddenly Joanna’s little rant about his sister started to make sense. The more I thought about it the more I convinced myself that drugs were responsible for her death and now Richard was using me to ease his conscience out of some warped notion that he didn’t save her – but he could save me.
My insides were reeling and I didn’t know if I felt angry, hurt or guilty. Whatever it was didn’t feel good. It was a nice notion that someone wanted to save me I supposed – or even thought I was capable of saving. A nice one – but an unrealistic one. I was too fucked-up – too far gone.
Hopeless.
Chapter Six
“Sorry about that. It took longer than I thought,” Richard apologised, appearing at the doorway and abruptly dragging me out of my musing. He was rubbing his arm and I decided he must do that when he’s nervous too.
“She’s right. You’re risking too much for me.”
“You were listening?” he asked but he didn’t sound annoyed. He sounded… remorseful.
“I’ll leave tomorrow,” I said, ignoring his assumption. My heart struggled to beat through the crushing pressure weighing down on it, but I knew it was the right thing to do.
“There’s no need for that. If you were listening you’d have heard me say I’m not risking anything. I’ve told you, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need. Nothing’s changed.” But it had. I shook my head – words eluded me. “Where will you go?” he asked sombrely and I was both relieved and heartbroken that he’d accepted my decision.
“I’ll stay with a friend,” I lied, shrugging. I didn’t know where I would go yet. A cheap motel? A hostel perhaps? There must be somewhere…
“What friend?” he questioned suspiciously, doing that censorious eyebrow thing he does so well – and often.
