The Jester

Chapter 25. Jessica and Adrian

One I get Adrian tucked in on the couch, I barely sleep. The fear of waking up to find him dead, bleeding out on my couch, consumes me. Each time I try to close my eyes, the vivid and horrifying image shocks me back awake. The needle was clean and the stitches were too, I tell myself, but the image transforms to a brutal infection each time I manage to drift off. I tossed and turned for an hour, getting up every 10 minutes to watch him until finally, I get up.

Padding to the living room, I wrap my blanket around me, curling up on a couch chair. For the fifth or sixth time, I stand there, watching his chest rise and fall, reassured by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Still, it is not enough to calm my anxiety enough for sleep. Despite the looming presence of Detective Wheeling, my concern for the man in front of me is genuine. Unable to bear the constant trips back and forth, I decide to sleep in the living room.

Curling up in the chair beside the couch, I try to find a comfortable position. The chair is meant for comfortable seating, not a goodnights rest. The living room is quiet and dark. The only sounds are Adrian's breathing and the kitchen clock's soft ticking. Still, sleep evades me.

In less than three hours since he dropped me off, he arrives back at my doorstep beaten and shot. The mere man who raised him sends a fearful shiver down my spine. In a sort of epiphany, I decide to tell Detective Wheeling that Ennio Vanicotta ordered the hit on his cold case. It may be the only thing to protect Adrian from any blowback from the gun and assault charges, and myself from the traffic stop.

Hours pass in a blur of restless half-sleep and anxious wakefulness. My body is exhausted, but my mind won't let me rest. I listen to every sound, alert to any change in Adrian;s breathing, any sign that he might be in pain or distress.

Finally, as the first light of dawn begins to creep through the curtains, I hear a soft, raspy voice calling my name. "Jessica?"

I sit up, my heart pounding. "ADE?!"

"I'm okay," He says quietly, his voice weak but steady. "Come here."

I stand and move to his side, kneeling next to the couch. "Are you okay???" My fingers touch his forehead then his cheeks, searching for signs of infection. "Do you need something?" Then I'm lightly feeling the bandage, worried he bled through my work last night.

He looks at me, his eyes tired but warm as his hand reaches out, gently grabbing mine. "I need you to sleep. You look worse than I feel. Come, lie down here with me."

"Your concussion-" I start.

"Jessica, please. I'll be fine. I just need you to get some rest," Adrian insists, his grip on my hand firm yet tender.

I hesitate, my concern for his injury warring with the exhaustion that has settled into my bones. But the sincerity in his eyes and the weariness in his voice finally sway me. Carefully, I lie down next to him on the couch, feeling the warmth of his body envelop me as he wraps an arm around my shoulders. And for the first time tonight as he pulls me close, I feel a sense of peace.

"Thank you," I whisper, my eyes closing as I nestle into him.

"Sleep, Jessica," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves. And finally, with Adrian holding me, I drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~

My alarm blares from my bedroom an hour later. Adrian breathes quietly under me as I carefully extract myself from him. In reality, I got less than two hours of sleep but two hours is better than nothing. Quickly, I shuffle to my bedroom, turning off the alarm. Then, I take a quick shower. I wash off Adrian's blood that I did not know got on me. Dressing for work, I do not registered the news in the background.