Providence

“What is your problem?” I asked, continuing to the dorm.

Ryan shoved his hands in his pockets, fol owing close behind. “I just think you’re getting in way too deep, way too fast. You need to take a step back. Slow down. You just met this guy and you’re acting like an old married couple. You have other friends.”

Feeling slighted, my mouth flew open. “I am not! I know I have other friends. I’ve talked to Beth and Kim every night since I’ve been at Jared’s.”

“You haven’t talked to me,” he said, looking hurt.

I rol ed my eyes, glad that we had final y reached Andrews. “You want me to start cal ing you at night? Wil that make you feel better?”

“Maybe it would. Wil your husband mind?”

I rol ed my eyes, pul ing my keys from my pocket. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Mind if I come up?”

“I guess not, since you’re already fol owing me in.”

I shoved the door open and rol ed my bag into the closet. Ryan sat on Beth’s bed and watched me, seemingly amused.

“What?” I asked, waiting for a sarcastic remark.

He shrugged, dropping his backpack to the floor. “Nothing. You’re just so funny.”

“How so?” I asked, peeling off my coat.

“You spend so much time pretending to be mad at me when you know why I say the things I do. I don’t get it. You like spending time with me; you like spending time with him; the only difference is that you decided to play house with him this week.”

I raised my eyebrows, anticipating a fight. “Are you insinuating what I think you’re insinuating?” I asked, pul ing off my boots.

“It depends. Are you going to throw your boots at me?” he asked, pul ing one side of his mouth up into a grin.

“You think I’m leading you on?” I yel ed, gripping one boot in my hand.

“Wel …,” he trailed off long enough to see my temper flare. “Just kidding!” He held his hands up, expecting a boot to fly across the room. When he felt he was safe, he continued, “I didn’t say that. I just think you should leave your options open, is al . You’re getting al wrapped up in this guy you barely know. You might miss something that’s right under your nose.”

I knew what he meant, but I refused to gratify it with a reply. I plugged in my laptop, watching the screen as it came to life. “What time are you heading over there?”

“Whenever you do,” Ryan shrugged, sprawling out on Beth’s bed.

“I probably won’t leave until seven thirty,” I said, criss-crossing my legs on the desk chair.

“Okay.”

I looked over at him in disbelief. “What do you plan on doing here for four hours?”

“Hanging out with you. It’s my turn,” he sniffed.

“Ugh. You talk like you’re sharing me,” I groaned, disgusted.

“I am,” he said, utterly naive of any offense.

“Quit it.”

Ryan bel owed out a laugh and interlocked his fingers behind his head. I watched him for a moment as he stared at the ceiling. Surely being in Ryan’s position was nothing to be so chipper about, and I was getting impatient for him to get over this ridiculous crush so we could go back to being friends.

The next four hours passed relatively quickly. Ryan and I caught up on the last week, although I was careful to leave out much of what went on in Jared’s loft. We talked like we used to, and it was refreshing. I had missed him.

He was right, I did enjoy spending time with him, not less than I did with Jared, but it was exceedingly different. I always felt at ease with Ryan, but the urgency wasn’t there. I didn’t feel like the oxygen was missing from the room when he wasn’t in it. Ryan was always in the back of my mind, and it hurt me when he was hurting, but he was wrong. There were more differences than just playing house.

We were the last ones to arrive at the Rock. Ryan wanted to grab something to eat on the way, so our detour cost us the prime seats.

Beth smiled at me when we walked in. “Hey!”

“Hey yourself. Where were you?” I asked.

“At Chad’s,” she smiled. I looked to Chad, who appeared very frustrated with his laptop.

Ryan and I brought a stack of notes to occupy our time, so we went right to work. After an hour, I decided to take a break and cal Jared.

“Hey,” Jared answered in a tender tone, picking up on the first ring.

“I just thought I’d cal and see how you’re doing. Did you want me to bring you some coffee or something?”

“No, sweetheart. Just pretend I’m not here.”

“I just don’t like the idea of you having to sit outside in the cold.”

“This is what I do, remember? I’m ready to see you, though,” he added.

“Me too.” I cringed at how utterly ignoble my words sounded. I was glad that he could sense differently.

I walked back to the group and Ryan grimaced.

“Don’t start,” I warned.

Ryan shook his head and returned to his book. He fidgeted in his seat for awhile, and then final y heaved a big sigh. “Are you staying there again tonight?” he blurted out.

“That’s some more of your business,” I said, distracted by a particularly tricky equation.

“I thought he said you had dinner plans. Since you missed dinner, I thought maybe you’d just stay here tonight.”

“Stil none of your business,” I murmured, scanning the words on the pages. Any divulging of my sleeping arrangements would only end in another argument that I wasn’t in the mood for.

Beginning the third subject, I looked up at the clock.

“Is that clock right?” I asked the group. Everyone looked in unison at the large round clock on the wal , and then peered at their watches or cel phones. In different tones, they al murmured confirmations.

“What?” Ryan asked, stretching as he watched me shove my things into my bag.

“It’s late, I have to go.”

I pul ed out my phone and pressed the speed dial for Jared’s cel . He didn’t answer, so I rushed out the door. I stood there a moment, looking around, and then hurried down the stairs, banging the rol ers of my bag against every step. The Escalade wasn’t there.

I tried not to panic, convincing myself that he was just in a wel secluded spot. After ten minutes, I walked down the sidewalk a little over a block each way. My search was futile. Jared wouldn’t let me walk around in the dark; he wasn’t there.

My bag barely touched the ground as I sprinted across campus, glad that Claire had parked my car in the middle lot to be spiteful. I thought of al the possibilities for his sudden disappearance, but my mind kept returning to the hel I’d gone through just a week before. Jared didn’t have a history of warning me that he was going to end our relationship.

By the time I reached my car my lungs were frozen and aching. I fumbled with my keys and ripped the door open, heaving my bag to the passenger side. The tires squealed as I pul ed out into the street, cursing every stoplight that cost me precious time.

I pul ed up to Jared’s loft and took a deep breath. His Escalade wasn’t parked in front, but I tried the door, anyway. I kept my eyes on the doorknob as I waited, wil ing it to twist open. Dogs barked down the dark street and I suddenly felt uneasy. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how safe I felt with Jared; the al ey had never seemed frightening before.

I walked back to the Beemer, defeated. He would have cal ed if it was anything other than the worst scenario. He had either broken his promise not to leave me, or he was in danger. After twenty minutes and stil no cal from Jared, my lungs began to feel less satisfied with every breath and my eyes wel ed over with tears.

A knock resounded on my window and I jumped. Claire’s flawless face was on the other side.

She rol ed her eyes. “Oh, stop. Something came up. I’m here to let you in.”

I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Her explanation didn’t make sense, but the knowledge that he had sent her to let me in the loft extinguished half of my fears.

“Is he okay?” I asked, fol owing her down the al ey.

“Uh…yeah. You worry too much,” she said, her annoyed expression obvious even in the dark.

She led me up the iron stairs of the entry way, and then opened the door to let me inside. I ran up the stairs to the loft and col apsed into the bed. An overwhelming feeling of relief tore through me, and I did my best to weep quietly to avoid further ridicule from Claire.

I dried my eyes as I heard her light footsteps climb the stairs and stop beside the bed.

“Wow,” she deadpanned, chomping on a wad of gum too big for her petite mouth. “Why don’t you take a shower?” she asked.

I ignored her.

Claire sighed and sat down on Jared’s side of the bed.

I froze for a moment, bracing for an obnoxious comment from her. She sat quietly.

I shot a confused glance her way. “W…What are you doing?” I asked, sniffing.

“I’m supposed to sit with you,” she said, sounding bored.

“Sit with me? Why?”

“I just am. Go take a shower, wil you? You’re a mess.”

I sniffed again and ambled to the shower, too baffled to argue. Claire never missed an opportunity to make me feel like an idiot, but surely she could understand my tears. I hurried through my nightly routine, anxious that every noise outside the bathroom was Jared returning home.

When I finished, Claire was downstairs. I slipped on one of Jared’s t-shirts. It was a poor substitute, but it would have to do until he came home.

With impeccable timing, she returned as I slipped under the covers.

She looked away from me, suddenly uncomfortable. “That’s Jared’s favorite shirt.”

I looked down and noticed the dead giveaway: It was ratty and worn. The dark grey heather cotton was thin, and I smiled as I made out the faded words across the front; it was from a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert four years ago. I looked up at Claire who showed signs of a slight grin.

“My dad took him to that concert,” she mused, sitting on the bed beside me.

“You look like him,” I said. Gabe had light blonde hair as wel , and Claire had inherited his ice blue eyes.

Those eyes instantly glazed over with anger. “Don’t talk about him. You…,” she stopped herself, “just go to sleep, Nina.”

Fal ing asleep with Claire sitting over me like a prison guard wasn’t likely, so I turned my back to her, focusing on Jared. I wondered what it was that he was doing, and wondered why he hadn’t cal ed. I opened my mouth to ask Claire, but given her mood I thought better of it.

The clock switched from P.M. to A.M. as the numbers changed to midnight. Jared stil hadn’t cal ed, and I was almost worried enough to ask Claire to cal him. At that moment, Claire stood up and walked over to the railing. The outside door slammed, footsteps echoed up the iron steps, and then the front door opened and closed quietly. Claire’s eyes fol owed the footsteps up the stairs until Jared came into view.

The sight of him shocked me. His face was smudged with dirt and blood, along with his shirt, jacket and jeans. His knuckles were swol en and bloody. I noticed that on a few of them the hide had ripped away and hung by just a few centimeters of skin.

“Jared?” I said, ripping the covers off to run to him.

“I’m okay,” he said, holding me away. “I’m dirty. Let me jump in the shower.”

Without a word, Claire retreated downstairs.

I paced the room, chewing on my nails until he reappeared. He was dressed and clean shaven, the only remnants of his earlier disheveled appearance was his already healing knuckles.

“What happened?” I asked in firm tone.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. Something came up,” he said, eyeing my bandage free hand.

“Obviously,” I said, crossing my arms. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Dawson stopped by The Rock to pay you a visit. I had to act quickly.” He walked by me to pul the first aid kit from under the bed.

“Mr. Dawson?” I asked, shocked.

“He was armed, and he also had…,” Jared’s jaw tensed, “he had paraphernalia.”

“What kind of paraphernalia?” I said, sitting on the bed.

“The kind you use to tie someone up and torture them. He was planning on getting that package tonight.”

I swal owed loudly. If Jared hadn’t been there to protect me, I didn’t want to think where I would be.

He didn’t look up when he spoke, “He won’t bother you again.”

“You….”

I watched as he worked silently, dabbing antibiotic ointment across my hand. The cut was now the beginning of a bright pink scar, the infection had dissipated days ago.

After a long pause Jared answered me. “I didn’t kil him. Not that I didn’t have to exercise restraint. He gave up information, but not nearly enough. I let my emotions get in the way,” he sighed and shook his head, “he was never conscious long enough to tel me everything I needed.”

“You tortured him,” I said, watching Jared fasten the last piece of tape on the flawlessly wrapped gauze. I braced for his answer; the Jared I knew couldn’t be capable of the horror that I imagined.

“I wanted to snap his spine and throw him in the Narragansett to drown, Nina. He’s lucky he ended up with his life.”

His job was to protect me by any means necessary; I just hadn’t stopped to think what that would be. “What did you find out?”

“We’l discuss it tomorrow. You need to rest,” he whispered. He placed me gingerly on the bed, kissing the palm of my bandaged hand.

When he tried to pul away, I squeezed his fingers with mine. “I was worried. I drove here prepared to beg you back.”

He laughed once. “In what alternate universe would you ever have to beg me back?”