Page 27 of Always You (Guardian Hall #1)
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JAZZ
I staggered out of Alex’s room, my breath ragged, my heart hammering as the chill of the hallway seeped through my thin shirt. Panic clawed at me, fierce and unrelenting. I couldn’t shake the vivid images from the nightmare, nor the horrifying reality of how I had nearly hurt Alex— really hurt him.
My feet led me to my room, where I struggled to unlock the door before finally slipping inside to safety. Without hesitation, I headed straight for the closet, grabbing the duffel bag tucked away on the shelf. My hands shook as I tossed it onto the bed, the sound of clinking zippers breaking the silence.
I started to pack, but my movements became slower and more hesitant. Each piece of clothing felt heavy in my hands. I wasn’t just packing fabric. I was packing up a life that might have been. The empty cardboard box in the corner, which had once been a cozy nest for Rascal and his siblings, stood as a stark reminder of things left behind, a warmth that had filled my days for a short time.
The fight drained out of me as I slumped to the bed. My head was a mess, thoughts swirling with images of Alex’s face contorted with pain—pain that I had caused. Was I kidding myself by thinking I could stay here? Stay with him? The fear of causing him more harm gnawed at me, a constant ache.
At least out there in numbing cold, I couldn’t hurt anyone.
Harper would be so disappointed I gave up.
I felt lost in the silence of my room. The weight of what could happen if my nightmares bled further into reality was crushing. How could I justify staying when I might one day not wake up in time? When my confusion might not clear before I did real damage?
The thought of leaving felt like tearing a part of myself away. Alex and Guardian Hall had become more than just a place to stay; they were a chance at redemption, at a life worth living, and Harper had revisited, saying she was proud of me.
Could I walk away from that because I was scared? Let my daughter down? Let Alex down? All because ghosts of my past wouldn’t let me go.
No decisions felt right, each heavy with regret. I buried my face in my hands, the bedspread fabric rough against my skin, and tried to imagine a future where fear didn’t dictate my choices. But the only clear thought that cut through the turmoil was Alex’s steadying and kind voice: “You’re safe; you’re here with me.”
At that moment, I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The thought of leaving was abandoning hope itself, and despite the fear of what might happen, the idea of not trying to overcome it, of not attempting to build something with Alex, seemed like a greater loss. I needed to find a way to stay, to fight through the nightmares, and to ensure they never again spilled over into the waking world. I needed to believe I could be better for Harper. For Alex. For me.
But I ran from Alex.
I left him.
He’ll hate me for running.
I scrambled for my phone, reading the last message Harper had sent me—a link to a video with the latest Marley and Pumpkin video—two cats that were so vocal it never failed to make me smile.
Jazz: I love you, Harper
I didn’t expect an answer, but instead, my phone vibrated with a call, and Harper’s name flashed up.
“Dad?” she asked, and I hated to hear the fear in her voice.
“Hey, you’re up early,” I said after a pause.
“Are you okay?”
“I loved the new cat video you sent,” I exclaimed.
“I knew you would. Hang on…” she said, and I got a notification. “I sent you another link to this other cat I follow. His name is Charlie, and he’s so stinking cute!”
We chatted for a few minutes about cats, school, and the fact she was going on a movie date the next day. Her boyfriend’s name was Alex, and she’d been seeing him for a couple of months. Also, she said it was cool that we both liked guys named Alex. Also, would it be okay if this kid, Alex, came with her next week to visit me?
“You’d want him to meet me?” I couldn’t quite believe it.
“Of course, I need you to do the dad thing where you intimidate him.” She,” she laughed.
“But I’m not…” Whole? Fixed? Right?
“Not what?”
“Fixed,” I offered.
“You’re my hero, and I want him to meet you.”
I tilted my chin and pushed my shoulders back. I was her hero? “I love you, Harper.”
“I love you more, Dad.” Someone called her name, and her voice was muffled as she covered the phone and then returned. “I have to go, Dad. Breakfast!”
“Go, I’ll see you and this Alex kid next week.”
“We’ll be there.”
“We could go out and get pizza.”
“We’d like that. You could bring your Alex.”
I lied, “I will,” and we ended the call. After what I'd just done, Alex wouldn’t want to come to any double-date pizza thing.
I owed Alex an apology.
I wasn’t going to run.
We needed to talk.
I counted back from a hundred, desperate to calm the storm inside me, but restlessness seized me around seventy-three. Pushing off the bed, I went to the door and yanked it open. Alex toppled from where he’d been sitting right outside, against it.
He scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide, filled with a panicked urgency. “I can’t let you leave,” he shouted, steadying himself and lowering his voice. “I mean, you can leave. I can’t stop you, but please, Jazz, don’t give up. Please stay.”
Without a word, I tugged him inside and shut the door behind us. My heart was thumping in my ears, drowning out the eerie silence of the hallway we’d left behind. “Where’s Rascal?” I asked, sudden fear of the kitten’s well-being piercing through the fog of my troubles.
“Marcus has him,” Alex replied, his voice steadier now, but thick with emotion. “He’s fine, I promise.”
I reached for him, gripping his arms as I searched his face for any sign he might retract his words and leave me to my spiraling thoughts. “Please don’t stop loving me,” I pleaded, my words spilling out raw and honest.
Alex’s expression softened, and he tugged me close, wrapping his arms around me. “I couldn’t even if I tried, Jazz. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into my hair. The warmth of his body and the sincerity in his voice anchored me, pulling back the tide of panic and despair that had threatened to drag me under.
Alex’s arms tightened around me, drawing me even closer, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of us, the weight of my sleeping fears lessening in the safety of his embrace. He leaned back, his eyes searching mine for a moment.
Then, he kissed me. It was soft and hesitant at first, but as I responded, the kiss deepened, driven by all the unspent emotions and the relief of having him so close. My hands carded his hair, and I lost myself in the familiarity of his lips on mine.
The kiss meant everything. It was an affirmation, a promise, and a relief all rolled into one.
Breathless and dazed, Alex rested his forehead against mine. “I’m here,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips. “We’re here.”
In that moment, the past and the future seemed to merge into the present, where all that mattered was this connection, this incredible feeling of being understood and loved despite everything. My brain might send me back to the horrors of what I’d seen and done, but Alex would always be there to bring me back, and he didn’t hate me for doing it.
“What if the nightmares never go away, and I hurt you?”
“You heard my voice, and you stopped,” he whispered into another kiss. Then, he walked me back to the bed, and we lay down, wrapped in each other’s arms.
And love and support began to turn into something else.
Need.
Want.
Now.