Letters to Nowhere #1 (Completed!)

Letters to Nowhere: Part 92

I woke up around one in the morning, and Blair was lying beside me. She half-opened her eyes and whispered, "Jordan's asleep on the floor. He was really worried about you, but he didn't think it was a good time to reveal Jaren to Bentley, so he picked the floor over the bed."

            "When did you get here?" I asked her.

            "You weren't at practice and neither was Bentley and you didn't answer your phone, so I called Jordan and he told me what happened and then came and picked me up. I tried to wake you up, but you were out cold."

            My eyes filled up with tears again. "They were drinking, Blair. Why did they have to drive home? My dad was the one driving. But they were both drinking. How did this happen? Did he tell her he was fine and she believed him? I hate him for saying that and I hate her for believing. If that's true, she picked him over me."

"I'm so sorry, Karen," Blair whispered. "I hate them, too. I really do."

            Tears ran down the sides of her face as she put her arms around me, and I let her hug me.

            "I feel like a total psycho," I whispered. "You should have seen me. Bentley's going to kick me out for ruining his garage."

            She shook her head. "Bentley's really worried about you. He feels terrible. I've never seen him like that before. He's not angry at all. And Jordan...well, he's here sleeping on your floor, so you already know what he thinks."

            I leaned over the side of the bed and looked down at Jordan, sound asleep, using the blanket and pillow I had used during my sleeping-in-the-closet phase. That seemed so long ago, and yet, had I really gotten any further in dealing with my life?

            Blair squeezed my arm and settled back into the pillows. "Just get some sleep. Everything will be a little less dramatic in the morning. You'll see that Bentley's not going to give you the boot or send you to the psych ward."

            "Thanks for coming over," I said. "Thanks for being here."

            After Blair drifted off to sleep again, I climbed off the bed and lay down on the floor beside Jordan. He stirred and then woke up with a start, like maybe he hadn't planned on falling asleep.

            "Can I ask you something?" I whispered.

            His fingers fumbled around in the dark until he found my hand and squeezed it. "Anything."

            "Where do you put them? Your family, I mean. Jackie said I had to be putting my parents somewhere—to rationalize it—or I wouldn't be able to function. Like people who say their loved one is in heaven, or they've moved on."

            "They're in a better place...I hate when people say that," Jordan mumbled, catching on to my question. "See, that's the thing, I don't think I've been able to figure out where to put them. And I am functioning, but I can't sleep without nightmares either. I know I made it sound like I only used to get them, but you had so much to deal with already, I didn't want to dump all my crap on you."

            "You have nightmares, too?"

            He nodded. "I have them when I'm asleep and sometimes when I'm awake, visions that I can't shake. And there have been so many times I've wanted to throw dozens of objects into a garage door and watch them shatter. And times when I've wanted to hop on a plane to London and look for some of them, even in pieces on the streets or somewhere."

            I turned my head, staring at his cheek in the dark. A pain the size of Texas sat on my chest. "So it's just like me—you've put yourself somewhere, you haven't put them anywhere?"

            He shook his head. "When you first moved in here, I knew you were doing the same thing as me, seeing the same things I saw. And I wanted to get to know you because I thought maybe if we couldn't get the job done ourselves...maybe you could put my people somewhere for me and I could sort yours out." He released a breath he must have been holding for a while. "I haven't done a very good job helping you, though, have I?"

            A tear ran down the side of his face. I brushed it away with my fingertips, and then kissed his cheek. "I'd give you a perfect ten for effort."

            He rolled on his side, facing me. "This changes everything, doesn't it? What you found out today?"

            The ache in my chest grew from Texas-sized to Canada-sized. "I don't know."

            "It's okay. You don't have to know right now. Take some time to process." Jordan gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "I should go to my own room before my dad sees me. Will you be okay?"

            "I don't know" was the most honest answer I could give.

            He kissed my forehead and pulled himself up off the floor. "Wake me up if you need me, okay?"

            "Okay."

            I returned to lying beside a snoring Blair for a little while. Then my stomach growled and I realized I hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous day. After sliding off the bed and walking quietly into the hall, I headed downstairs. I didn't make it to the kitchen, though. I got distracted after hearing the sound of glass moving across the garage floor. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

            Bentley was pushing a giant broom, piles of glass and metal moving along with it. He wore flannel pants, gym shoes, but no shirt. My eyes zoomed right in on the scar on his bicep from surgery years ago. An injury that surely included Anna sitting by his side and holding his hand, and now there was no one. How could I be angry with him for not wanting me to hurt more than I already was?

            His back was turned to me now, and I could see black ink on his lower back. A tattoo. It looked like several lines of writing, but I couldn't make out the words. And I was beginning to feel extremely embarrassed about my tantrum earlier and debated sneaking back into the house.  

            No such luck. He turned around right then and the broom froze.   

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