Anger made my blood boil, as I pulled the robe from my body, disgusted. I flung it across the room, needing to get his smell off my skin, and stumbled to the bathroom. I turned the water as hot it as it could go. I scrubbed but knew I wouldn’t rid myself of him. Jonah Quinn had wriggled his way into my heart.
I just wanted to be numb, to not feel any of this. I sat on the tiled shower floor, wrapped my arms around my legs, and focused on the water as it cascaded down my spine. Jonah wouldn’t go away because he was inside of me now. I had lost a piece of my heart to him, and as much as I’d like to be able to draw a line under what had happened between us, I couldn’t. I willed the memory of him out of my mind, but he’d already claimed a piece of me.
The sadness in his voice, as he declared the pills his, haunted me. Why would he lie when the name on the label clearly wasn’t his?
The water had begun to cool when I heard the first bang from upstairs. It made me jump in shock. The next noise was much louder, followed by shattering glass. I switched off the water and climbed out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my body. As I moved into the living area of my apartment, the sounds became much more violent.
Jonah.
The noises continued one after another. I grew concerned when I heard a roar so fierce it made me cringe in terror. Seconds later glass shattered, and Jonah’s guitar fell past my window, down to the street below us. I gasped as I ran to the window. By the time I looked out, it was obviously far too late. His guitar was shards of wood and metal across the alley.
Had my rejection affected him that much?
The noises eventually evened out before stopping altogether. I wanted to go to him. Before I could stop myself I was dressing quickly in leggings and a T-shirt. I cursed myself stupid as I slipped my feet into flip-flops and grabbed my keys, heading to find Jonah.
Mrs. Kindle was opening her front door as I closed mine. “Did you hear that, Elle? What do you think is happening up there?”
I smiled at her in an attempt to soothe her. She was a sweet woman, so I didn’t want her concerned with what was going on with Jonah and me.
“I don’t know, Mrs. Kindle. I’m going to go and see now. Could you watch Meow for me? It sounded like glass was breaking. I wouldn’t want him to slash a paw.”
“Of course, dear, but you need to be careful. You hear me? It didn’t sound like he was drinking tea with friends.”
That was the first time it struck me that he may not be alone. What if the person that sold him the medication had arrived, and was causing trouble?
Mrs. Kindle touched my arm. “Are you okay? You look very pale. We could call the police, maybe you should stay here?”
“It’ll be fine. You just look after Meow, and I’ll be back down as soon as I can,” I responded, trying to stop my voice from shaking.
She needed to think I was all right with this, when really I was petrified about what I might find. She nodded but didn’t go back into her apartment. I took the stairs two at a time as I made my way to his apartment. Once I made it to his door, I noticed it was partially open. I pushed it open further, gulping as I tried to focus on the dark room.
The place was trashed.
Jonah’s drawing station had been pushed on its side across the floor, paints and pencils scattered along with the shards of glass. The couch had been upturned, along with the dining table and chairs. My feet crunched on the broken glass as I entered and looked around. There were no lights on, but I could still see that there wasn’t a piece of furniture left in its previous location.
“Jonah?” I called out, my voice trembling.
The only response was a small whimper. He was somewhere in this carnage. My heart pounded, concerned that he may be hurt. I began frantically searching for him, checking behind every piece of overturned furniture. I knew he was here alone; I felt it and was determined to find him.
As I called out to him again, I saw movement from the corner of my eye.
Jonah was in the fetal position on the floor. Still clad in only his sweat pants. The light from the broken window spilled across his torso, making the figure that was tattooed on his side appear sinister. He was shivering, his whole body quaking from the tremors. I rushed to him without giving my feelings another thought.
“Jonah? Jonah, baby, what happened?”
I tentatively reached out, touching his cold skin. He began to mumble. I couldn’t decipher exactly what it was that he was trying to tell me. I knelt beside him; the glass biting into my flesh. I realized Jonah must be lying on it, though he seemed unaware.
“Can you move? Please, let me help you onto a chair.”
He mumbled again, and I brought my ear to his lips, whispering for him to tell me. His breath fanned my cheek, warming me, and confirming he was relatively okay.
His words were of no significance, at least I’d thought not, until he uttered the name that was on the canisters of medication.
“What?” I questioned, not quite believing my own ears.
“Me. It’s me,” he gasped. “Benjamin Samuels is me.”
He was lost.
Lost in his own head where something was hurting him and causing him pain. I didn’t believe that my rejection had caused this. I only wanted to help; I just didn’t know how to. I felt useless, I couldn’t leave him shaking and bleeding on the floor. He needed someone. He needed me.
“Jonah, what do you mean?”
His chest heaved as he tried to breathe, but he was struggling. It scared me. “Ben,” he gasped. “I’m Ben.”
I stared at him in complete confusion. He needed to calm down. I needed to calm down.
I shushed him, sweeping my hand across his cold, inked torso. I could feel the goose bumps as they skittered across his flesh along with each tremor that wracked his body.
“We can talk about that later. Let me try to help you up. You need to get warm and calm down.”
“L-Leave me... ”
“Oh, Jonah, I can’t do that,” I replied with sadness.
I smoothed his still damp hair away from where it was obscuring his eyes, but noticed he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were fixed on the floor. I needed to get him up, needed to look at what he’d done to himself. The little voice inside my head shouted to get help; to call someone else. Who would I call though? I knew nothing of Jonah’s family, so I pushed the voice aside and went to him.
At first he resisted, turning away from my touch, but my persistence paid off. He leaned against me, making me almost topple as he rested his weight onto my body. He grunted, wobbling when we began to walk across to the only stool left standing. I helped him move to it, noting his blue-tinged lips and shallow breaths. I swallowed my nerves and continued to help him.
“Just a few more steps, Jonah,” I assured him, gesturing to the small stool near the breakfast nook.
He nodded, moving at a snail’s pace but not giving up. Moisture pooled around my fingertips. I couldn’t see if it was his cold sweat or blood left from the cuts he’d received from the shattered glass, so I tried not to think about it. After a few more minutes, and a little jostling, he was perched precariously on the stool. His chest was heaving. His breaths were nothing more than gasps now. I fought to keep my own panic at bay, but I knew I wouldn’t last much long.
“Jonah, I need to know how to help you. What can I do?”
His reply was a wisp of words caught on the end of a short exhale, “Pills.”
My chest tightened. He wanted me to give him the drugs that weren’t his. I tried to reason that he’d told me they were, but the prescription didn’t lie. It was there in black and white. I was at war with myself. This could only be resolved once he explained himself. If I gave him the medication, I was contributing to his problem. If I didn’t give it to him, he would continue to suffer. I had to give him the medication.
“I don’t know which ones?”
Jonah tried to whisper the name, but I didn’t understand any of it; so with my own anxiety rising, I raced t
o the bathroom and stared at the orange canisters in the cabinet on the wall. My hands were trembling as I chose some at random and rushed back to him. I held them out, hoping he could see which one it was in the minimal light.
He pointed to one of the canisters, and my alarm began to recede. I popped a pill from the blister packet and went to get him a glass of water. I winced when a sharp piece of debris cut through my flip flop as my feet crunched across the floor.
I didn’t know how long it would be for the medication to start to work but knew he needed to regulate his breathing. I rifled through his kitchen until I found a paper lunch bag. For the next thirty minutes I made Jonah inhale and exhale into it as he looked me in the eyes and matched my own breathes. The paper bag crinkled with each labored breath he took and I stroked his hair until he seemed to calm down.
“I’m okay,” he eventually rasped, lowering the bag from his lips.
I sat motionless.
“Thank you. You can go now,” he continued, his voice cutting.
“I’m not leaving. First of all, you shouldn’t be alone in this mess. And I’d like to talk to you. I need some answers Jonah.”
He grumbled, his body shuddering when I finally moved my hand from his hair. He tried to stand but swayed.
When I reached out to help, he rejected me.
“What?” I cried, my fists clenching at his rebuff.
“I’m trying to help you!”
I noticed the color was starting to return to his cheeks, but averted my gaze when he glared menacingly at me.
“You didn’t need to stay, but again, thank you. I would have dealt with it on my own.” He lowered his voice, muttering, “I usually do.”
“You have these cravings often then?”
“Cravings?” He snapped. “You’re kidding me, right? You think I was jonesing for drugs? I told you those meds were mine. I’m not a fucking addict.”
I really didn’t want to argue with him. He still looked weak and could barely stand, so pressuring him wasn’t the best idea; but I wanted answers. I sighed in defeat and walked over to the overturned couch.
“I’m going to clean up this mess, then I think I should take a look at those cuts on your body. I still want to know what happened and what the hell I just gave you.
However, I’m going to set it aside for now.”
“Well, isn’t that kind of you?” His reply oozed sarcasm.
“You know what, Jonah? You get so defensive when all I’m trying to do is be your friend. It sure as hell doesn’t seem like you have many if you are going through this kind of thing alone.”
He hung his head, his dark hair flopping forward and exposing the back of his neck. Even now, in the midst of all this turmoil his body called to me.
I looked away. The silence was deafening.
As I began to clear the wreckage, Jonah tried to help. He struggled with even the lightest of furniture, the exertion exhausting him. I would catch him looking at me; sometimes his eyes were guarded, other times I swear I caught a hint of longing. I berated myself as I swept up the shards of glass. I should have known something would go wrong with this. I’d jumped in feet first, because the hot neighbor at the mailboxes showed me a little attention, and now I’m swimming in a sea of what the hell.
Jonah interrupted my mental chastisement by clearing his throat. I met his intense blue stare as he scratched the back of his neck and waited. “Thanks,” he whispered.
It was apparent he didn’t want me here, didn’t want me seeing him when he was vulnerable. Maybe all we had was incredible sex. I’d tried not to consider it as anything more, but I couldn’t help myself.
“I know you don’t want me here. I promise to leave, but I need to clean those cuts. Okay?”
“You don’t need to do that, Red.”
His voice was gruff. The use of the pet name he gave me, with that particular tone, did wonderful things to my insides. I could hide my reaction to him, but I couldn’t lie to myself. It was useless to fight the feelings he invoked.
“I’ll feel better knowing you won’t bleed to death after I’ve gone home.”
I shot him a small smile, desperate to lighten the mood. He eventually walked into the kitchen and handed me a bottle of peroxide, along with some small cotton balls.
I pointed at the stool, making him sit down and lean over the counter so that it exposed the lacerations on his flesh.
“Oh, Jonah, some of these look deep. You might even need a few stitches.”
“No. No, I won’t,” he shot back sternly, hissing as I began to cleanse the cuts.
“Tell me what happened. Please?”
I discarded a bloody cotton ball and dipped a fresh one into the peroxide. I felt him exhale against my fingertips when I pressed it against his ribs. He was silent for so long, I thought he was going to deny me again.
However, he didn’t.
“I have anxiety issues. I’ve learned to deal with them though. I haven’t had an attack in a while.”
“So, I caused this?”
“No, Elle, not you... never you.”
I stilled. “What does that even mean?”
I pulled up a stool next to him, reaching out and taking his hands in mine. It encouraged me when he didn’t flinch or pull away.
“It means this is me. This is why I live alone. This is why I should never have had sex with you,” he replied honestly.
“I don’t understand.”
“And it’s better that you don’t.”
“For who?” I snapped back. “You? Me? Us? I don’t see how.”
He shook his head, finally tugging his hands away from mine and walking across the room. He groaned in frustration before turning back to me.
“I didn’t lie to you when I told you the medication was mine. It isn’t illegal. I really hate that you even considered that-”
“I tried not to,” I interrupted.
“You didn’t. Anyway, I can’t tell you why I don’t use that name any longer. Even if I could it’s better that you don’t know.”
“I’m sick of this cryptic shit! You keep saying it’s better this way, but how can it be if I know you’re up here having another attack with no one to care for you during them? I’m asking for friendship and an explanation. Maybe you’re right about the sex; we dived right in and gave it very little thought, but I’m never going to regret it, because I can’t. Jonah, I really can’t.”
He slumped to the floor, leaning back against the kitchen cabinets.
“The problem is I can’t either,” he whispered. “But that doesn’t mean this can be any more than friendship.”
“And would that be so bad?”
“It’s a mess, Red. A real fucking mess.”
He sounded incredibly sad, so I moved to where he sat on the floor. His eyes conveyed his caution, but he slumped in defeat.
“We can’t do this... ” he warned. “I don’t have the control.”
“I don’t get it. The meds, the attacks, or why it’s best that we stay away from each other. I could be a good friend; I am a good friend.”
He snorted, “And you still want to be this close to me after my little breakdown?”
I nodded solemnly, ignoring his try at humor. I placed my hand on his forearm, and refusing to acknowledge the sparks that shot through my body. I had to stop this attraction to him, because right now, it seemed like he needed me to be his friend, not would be lover.
I rested my head on his shoulder. He reciprocated moving his head on top of mine.
“Your guitar is a lost cause I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured, though I regretted tossing it the second it slipped from my fingers. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Why did you do it? What were you thinking?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light as I stroked his forearm.
“I can’t talk about it. I told you that. I’m not being evasive on purpose-”
“Okay, but can I say something?”
I felt him move his
head and took it as confirmation.
“One day you’re going to want to confide in someone. I’m just letting you know that I’d like that person to be me.” He grumbled slightly, but I carried on. “You’re a friend. I’m not giving up on you.”
“Why?” He murmured.
“I told you why. Friends don’t give up on friends.
I’m not going to stop trying.”
“You’re wasting your time on me, Elle.”
I pulled away, staring at him and taking in his sullen expression. “I don’t believe that.”
I reached out, trying to touch his face, but he batted at my hand and turned away from me. Sympathy clawed at my heart, but he’d made up his mind to reject me.
Jonah confirmed that thought when he said, “Can you leave now? I need to be alone.”
“Will you be all right?”
I didn’t want to leave, but I understood he must feel embarrassed and exhausted after what had happened. I reasoned that I’d done everything I could right now. If I stayed any longer I’d just irritate him.
“Your window?” I responded, pointing over to it as I stood up.
The wind was making the drapes float eerily in the air, and there were still shards of glass stuck in the wood frame.
“Not your concern. Red, I won’t be sleeping now anyway. I’ll call the super later.”
“He’ll go postal when he sees that.”
“I’ll think of something, that’s if someone hasn’t already called him. Maybe that old woman across from you did the job for me?”
“Mrs. Kindle is sweet. She wouldn’t do that.”
“So stop fussing over me, then. I can take care of myself.”
I opened my mouth, closing it almost right afterward. I needed to pick my battles, and this was one that could ride for the time being. I’d go back to my apartment, but I would be back tomorrow.
I just couldn’t leave him now. I couldn’t forget what we’d shared. My body still buzzed with desire whenever he was near, but if friendship was all we could have, then I would accept it. I couldn’t imagine going back to the awkward conversations next to the mailboxes.