Chapter 39: Chapter 39

Thirty Nine - Jake, help me.

Jake's POV -

The sun is setting and the darkness invites itself into the room through the blinds. I stand up and walk over to them, blocking out the night. Ivory left a few hours ago and I'm left alone with nothing but the steady beeps. I shut my eyes and place my forehead against the wall, breathing deeply.

I need something to calm me down before I explode.

I only feel like this when life becomes too difficult to face. I know I'm heading in a downward spiral but I'm done being responsible. I can't control my emotions anymore which scares the living crap out of me. When I feel unstable, I become a danger to myself and to the people around me. It's who I am, it's uncontrollable.

I walk over to my phone resting on the bedside table and grab it, texting the person who's barely an acquaintance.

Do you have anything for me?

I send the text and sit down, one leg shaking uncontrollably from keeping myself together. I'm on the edge, threatening to explode at any moment. I can feel my sanity slipping away every hour I spend in this god damn hospital room. My phone beeps back instantly and I breathe deeply, feeling a wave of relief.

Always, what do you want?

I briefly glance between Emily and my phone, feeling torn over what to do. I know how much she hates drugs, how disappointed she'd be in me if she knew what I was about to do. I groan frustratedly and my hands tighten around my phone. I need a release and I need it fast. I sigh heavily and reach for my jacket, heading for the door. Before I leave, I turn around, looking at her sweet face.

"I'll be back soon," I murmur, disappearing out of the door. I head down the corridor, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

A cigarette would have to do, for now.

I stand on the corner of the entrance and light my cigarette, shielding it from the cold air. I inhale deeply and sigh, leaning back against the glass. My eyes close and I will myself to stay focused.

She's going to be okay. She has to be.

I bring the cigarette back up to my lips, inhaling deeply again. I hear a rustle beside me and immediately open my eyes. The blonde from the hospital cafe is opposite me, sat on the bench. She's wearing a tight dress and is shaking slightly from the cold. In her hands, she clutches a bottle of alcohol tightly. Occasionally she lifts the bottle to her lips, taking a long drink.

I frown at her but choose not to get involved, it isn't my business to do so.

"Hey," she calls out towards me, her voice wobbling. She's looking directly at me, beady eyes burning holes through me. Seems like she has other plans.

"Hey," I respond back bluntly, remaining frozen in place. I don't want to show an interest.

"I wasn't okay a minute ago but I am now." She giggles, her eyes roaming up and down my body. I watch as she places the bottle down onto the bench and approaches me slowly, her eyes continuing to drink in my appearance. I clear my throat and stand up straighter. She never stops approaching me until she's an inch away from my face. I can smell the fresh alcohol on her breath so I inch away to the side, putting distance between us.

"I have a girlfriend," I state bluntly, completely baffled at this girls persistence. I continue to smoke and inhale the next one deeper, letting the nicotine seep it's way into my body.

She ignores my words and leans her body against my side before taking her hand and stroking it down my chest. I watch in disgust as her hand trails lower, her breathing shallowing out beside me. Her tongue flicks out, licking her bottom lip and I raise my brow at her actions. Months ago, I would have found this hot.

Now, it came across desperate.

Her hand reaches the waistband of my jeans before I decided enough is enough. I grab her hand with my free one and pull it away from me, giving her an icy glare.

My face turns so we're facing each other, so close that if an outsider was looking at us, we'd appear to be kissing. It couldn't have been further from the truth. I growl quietly, my lips turning up in a snarl —

"I have a girlfriend, I won't say it again. I've told you once before but now you're simply disrespecting her by choosing to carry on."

My voice is low and threatening and I notice her eyes widen in fear. She pulls back, quickly yanking her wrist out of my grip before turning around and stomping off, swaying a little. She grabs her bottle and heads round the corner out of sight and I sigh, relieved at her absence. I close my eyes and lower myself until I'm sat on the cold floor, shivering from the frosty air. My thoughts turn back to the only girl I want, lying in a bed a few floors up. I throw the finished cigarette I'm holding onto the floor before pulling out a fresh one, lighting it up.

It's going to be a long night.

*****

I hear the door faintly open and I jolt awake, my head swaying a little from the sudden movement. I'd fallen asleep sat up with my head on Emily's bed and my neck throbs from the uncomfortable position. I turn towards the door and immediately stand to my feet.

"What are you doing here?" I say, my fists clenching tightly. I stand in front of Emily's bed, guarding her from anyone who can hurt her further.

"Jake please, she's my daughter. I just want to see her." Emily's mum responds quietly. Her eyes drift over to Emily and one hand shoots up to her mouth in shock. I scoff at her actions.

"She's been in here almost two weeks and you decide to show up now. You're a terrible mother."

She doesn't respond from my harsh but truthful words. Instead her head falls forward in shame. She looks like a little kid being told off and I shake my head angrily. She doesn't care for Emily at all, in my eyes she's just as evil as Trevor. No mother should stand back and watch their child be beaten senseless by a thug twice their size.

"Jones shot her," I say angrily, remembering the night that haunts me every day. The way the gunshot filled the room, echoing loudly. I can feel myself losing control and I inhale deeply, forcing myself to stay calm.

"Jones is her real father."

"She knows," I respond, fists clenching tightly in anger.

"Does she?" Her tone is shocked. Her eyes widen at me and I nod, clenching my jaw. She rubs her forehead, shaking vigorously. Her hands are trembling as she takes a seat near the door before opening her purse and pulling out a box of tablets. I watch as she pops open four pills and swallows them straight. No water.

My eyebrows rise at her actions and she immediately appears to calm down, her posture relaxing back into the chair.

"You're a drug addict," I scoff, recognising all the symptoms. Her head snaps towards me and her eyes widen due to being caught out.

"No! I — " she begins to protest and I hold my hand up, signalling for her to silence.

"I know a drug addict when I see one." I say bluntly, sitting back down into the chair next to Emily. I hope to God she can't hear this conversation right now.

"What do you want? You should leave," I say firmly as I watch Emily. She looks so innocent, so caught up in a world she doesn't deserve. She's beautiful and pure yet the people around her ooze evil and danger . . . me included.

"I just want to see my daughter."

"You should have visited her two weeks ago! How can you call yourself a mother? You've abandoned her, she still needs you!"

She didn't flinch and instead calmly opens her bag before popping out another two pills and swallowing them. I scoff at her and my laughter fills the room.

"You're actually unbelievable," I shake my head and run a hand through my hair.

"Get out."

My voice is serious, flat with no emotion.

She looks at me, bewildered, her eyes wide with confusion. I knows she's deciding whether she should stay or not. She takes one last look at Emily before standing up, taking the easy way out. A few moments pass before she speaks again —

"I can pay for the room."

"I don't need your money, neither does Emily."

Without saying another word, she turns her back on her daughter, her only child and leaves the room.

*****

Birds chirp loudly outside the window and I groan, lifting my head from the mattress. I rub my eyes and stand up trying to ignore my body screaming out in pain from sleeping in such an awkward position. I stretch my arms and groan once again, squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

"I hate hospitals," I grumble to myself, grabbing the water bottle near me and taking a sip.

"Can I have some?'"

I freeze, the bottle in mid air.

My breathing catches in my throat and I feel my lungs tighten as I turn slowly. Her eyes are barely open, a small smile on her lips. One of her arms reaches for the bottle and I stand there frozen, staring at her with my mouth hung open. She's awake.

I drop the bottle and it hits the floor with a loud thud, sending water spilling everywhere. My eyes never leave hers and I open my mouth to say something, anything. She's awake and she's moving.

"Am I dreaming? I'm dreaming. God, I'm going crazy," I choke out, rubbing my eyes furiously with my hands. I open them slowly and find her looking at me, bewildered.

"Jake, are you okay?" She asks, her voice croaky and weak. My laughter fills the room, getting louder and louder. I charge towards her, the realisation finally hitting me that she's awake. She groans when I fling my arms around her, squeezing her tightly.

"Muffin?" I question, inhaling her scent.

"Yes? Ouch, that hurts," she croaks out and I immediately let go of her, pulling back. The grin on my face begins to make my cheeks ache. I cup her face, stroking my thumb against the soft skin. A small smile stretches on her lips as her eyelids flutter closed.

"Am I really awake?" I chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. She pulls back slowly, her eyebrows creasing with sudden confusion.

"Where am I?" She asks, looking around the room. Her eyes appear panicked and her voice cracks in fear. I watch sadly as her eyes widen in fear and she pulls back the covers, revealing the plaster dressing over her wound. I look away, my eyes filling with guilt as I know she now has to remember everything that happened.

Jones, the kidnapping, being shot. . .

Her eyes widen and she begins breathing erratically, her chest rising heavily up and down.

"Emily, it's okay. You're okay!" I tell her, taking hold of her shoulders gently. I force her to look at me but her eyes dart around the room and she starts screaming hysterically.

"He's gonna kill me! Help me!" She whimpers, her whole body shaking with fright. I stand back, feeling frozen to the spot. I don't know what to do as I watch her become hysterical.

The door swung open and two nurses run in, pushing me aside. Emily screams and lashes out, her arms flying everywhere. I notice the nurses take out a syringe and I stand back helplessly, watching as they pin her down and sedate her.

"You don't need to do that!" I protest, reaching up to tug at my hair. My eyes widen as I watch them, unable to tear my eyes off her. Emily continues to scream repeatedly that Jones is going to kill her.

Every time I heard her broken words, my heart shatters into a million tiny pieces from the fear in her voice. The nurses lie her back down gently onto the bed as her body becomes heavy from the drugs. She starts to slur her words and her eyes grow heavier by the second.

"Jake, help me!" She whispers frantically, her arm reaching out towards me before she finally gives in to the sedative and closes her eyes. I breathe heavily, trying to calm myself down from the scene that just unfolded in front of me. My body is frozen in place and a nurse guides me back to the chair, pushing my shoulders down to get me to sit.

"It's normal behaviour, gunshot victims usually do this. It's a sign of post traumatic stress. It'll get better as time goes on."

I nod, feeling completely numb. Her eyes held so much fear, so much pain. I reach out for her hand and hold it gently, watching her chest rise and fall steadily as she sleeps. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. It does nothing to control the chaos going on inside my brain.

Her words continue to play on a loop inside my mind, her voice breaking with fear —

"Jake, help me."