Back To You | Jerrie

Chapter 9

Perrie

"Jade!" I shake her as she's gasping and clutching her chest.

This is the fifth night in a row she's had a thrashing nightmare. Even with the sleeping pills the new doctor prescribed, she still wakes in a pool of sweat and doesn't remember what happened—or at least that's what she says.

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep." She pushes the hair out of my eyes and cups my cheek.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" I ask as I start to shuffle out of bed.

She reaches for the pills on the side of the bed but grabs her leg. "Fuck," Jade groans as her hand wraps around her thigh.

"I'll get you some medicine." I scramble by the bed trying to find the pills. "I think we should call the doctor. It's getting worse." The nightmares and the pain seem to be getting more consistent. Partly because she refuses to listen to a damn word that anyone says. I catch her without the walker trying to maneuver to the bathroom.

"No doctor. I'm fine!" she lashes out through her clenched jaw.

The first week she was home everything was fine. She seemed to understand her limitations and accepted my help freely. Now though, because she feels better, the aggravation overrides any understanding she previously had.

"Right ... sorry, I forget you don't need anyone," I say with sarcasm. I'm over her crap. I grab the medication and put the pills in her hand.

Such a jackass.

She grabs my arm before I can walk away. I don't look at her. I'm so pissed and tired of her attitude. It hasn't quite been two weeks yet and I'm ready to call for a live-in nurse and go home. She gently rubs her thumb against my arm.

"Please look at me," she pleads.

I look up but I'm pissed off. This isn't easy for either of us, but there's only one of us being considerate—and it's not her.

"You don't get it. My head is all fucked up."

"I don't get it because you won't talk to me," I say quietly, trying not to let this escalate into another fight. "Tell me then, what are the dreams of?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

Jade shakes her head.

She keeps telling me they're nothing or she can't explain. I hear her though. I hear her screams for Jesy and Aaron. When she yells about the shooter or cries out in pain, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they're about. I've kept that information to myself knowing she doesn't want to talk about it. She grows more and more frustrated with each dream. More sullen and pushes herself harder to get past this.

"You don't get to treat me like shit because you're hurting. I'm tired too. I'm busting my ass working, getting everything in line for the launch. Then I come here and you're moody and crabby. I know this isn't easy for you. I know you're tired and in pain. So don't tell me I don't get it. But you're taking it out on me, babe, and I'm on your side." I let it all out as I fight back the urge to cry.

"All I remember is the end with extreme pain in my leg or arm. So I'm going to assume it's the shooting," she says, surprising me that she even said that much.

"Jade, you went through a lot in the last month. You lost a friend, and you were shot ... It's a lot."

"I have you though." She looks away and swallows the pills.

Standing before her, I take a deep breath and focus on her weighing each word before I say them. "Yes, you do—but I'm getting close to calling Jesy—or your mom. You've gone through two nurses in a week. That's not normal and it's not you," I say the last part softly.