True North Book 3 - Finding Now Kate and Sam (5 page)

“I’m not that close to their age,” I protested.

“You graduated with your PhD years ahead of your peers!” She sounded proud.

“I had no life,” I mumbled then squeezed my eyes closed, wishing immediately I hadn’t. I knew she’d heard me.

Please just let it slide, Mom!

An awkward pause developed and I knew I should’ve just hung up on her. Just touched that small red icon and cut the line right then … but I didn’t.

“It’s been six years—” she started.

Damn it!
“Yeah, Mom, I know exactly how long it’s been.”

“Well, it needs to be said,” she asserted.

“No, no it doesn’t need to be said!”

“Yes, it does!”

“No, it doesn’t, Mom, don’t say it.”

“You need to stop living like this.”

“Please don’t.”

“You’re not the one who died, Kate!”

I winced at the sound of her name in that sentence. I felt that familiar dread spider walk up my spine and ghost over my skin, prickling it to attention. The blood in my body turned to ice water and my heart stopped. This was why I didn’t call her! This was why I didn’t go back home!

“Holy shit, Mom!”

“What?!”

“You just … bring it up like that and then wonder why I never call you or answer your texts!”

“I want you to face it!” she demanded.

“I want you to drop it!” I shouted then looked around me to see if anyone could hear me.

“I won’t drop it, I’m your mother and I love you!”

“This isn’t love,” I hissed into the phone. “It’s control!”

I hung up on her and shut my phone off. When I did, I saw more than felt that my hands were shaking. In fact, it was otherworldly, like I was outside of my body looking down on myself. The shaking moved into my arms and legs, and I knew it was going to be a full blown attack. I hadn’t had one in a while, but I could already tell it was coming fast and it was going to be bad.

Fuck!
I had a second class to teach in five minutes.

“Thanks, Mom,” I whispered. I couldn’t go in there now!

I groaned as my limbs became numb and my mouth went dust dry.

She said the name. How could she have said the name? We’ve talked about this!

Somehow, I managed to call the school and leave a message saying that I’d gotten sick over the morning and wouldn’t be able to make it for my next class. As I hung up, I saw students hurrying across campus.

Quickly, so no one would see me, I ran around to the back of the building—and caught Sam North taking the last drag off a cigarette before he crushed it into a small steel container.

“Hey, Jolie!” he said brightly.

I promptly dropped to my knees and puked up the yogurt and diet soda I’d had for my lunch.

It was too much! I couldn’t turn it off now! The screams were getting louder and the fire was burning hotter. I felt as if my entire body shook in a frenzy. I went into my brain’s auto-mantra …
Do whatever it takes to make it stop.

Just make it stop … breathe in, breathe out.

I tried desperately to open the hinges of my briefcase but failed miserably. My hands wouldn’t work right, they were trembling so hard. I cursed.

“Let me help you with that.”

“Med … i … cine.” I choked out. “Brief …”

“I got it.” Sam got down next to me and quickly emptied the contents of my briefcase into the grass. I saw his fingers close around the little plastic bottle that had become my lifeline. “Ativan?” he asked, concerned.

I nodded. It was all I could do. The scene around me started to spin, literally roll over itself. The vertigo sucked and I knew it was another symptom … another flashback.

We flipped over and over again, vaulting through the air until the sudden impact. I tasted the blood erupt in my mouth,
again.

But this time the scene was interrupted when I felt a strong hand grip the back of my head and hold it still. Then fingers pushed the little white pill between my lips. It dissolved quickly on my tongue.

I concentrated on breathing as my head was pressed up against something firm, and I knew someone was holding me—or was it part of the attack? I couldn’t tell. Had arms scooped me up before?

“You’re going to be okay, Catherine.” The unfamiliar voice said it with such faith, I wanted to believe it. I tried to believe it.

A moment later, the brick building that was More Hall came back into focus. Strong arms were around me, and I realized Sam North held me firmly against his chest, keeping me still.

“I’m okay,” I lied and tried to push away, but my attempt was feeble. I hadn’t had an attack like that in public for over three months, since I’d left home. Damn my mom’s phone call!

“Let me get you home,” he said.

“No, no … I’ll get myself home,” I assured him.

It had been so long, I thought I’d beaten it. And in my panic I’d taken a whole pill, not half. How was I even going to get to the bus and not pass out on it?

I’d figure it out. I had no choice but to figure it out—on my own.

I pulled myself up to stand, but if not for Sam North’s steadying arms, I would have fallen down on my ass.

“Come on, my car is in the parking lot, let me give you a ride home,” he suggested.

“No! No car!” I shouted, panicked. When I realized how I sounded, I dropped my voice and looked around us. No one had passed by … yet. “Just help me to the bus stop. I can get home from there,” I insisted.

“Yeah, um, you’re not in any condition to be left alone on a bus,” he reasoned. “You know, maybe I should call 911.”

God, no!
They’d shove me in another psych ward, I’d lose my job and my mother would tattoo
Told you so
on her forehead. “I don’t need that kind of help,” I told him firmly.

“Then let me see your phone, I can dial a friend or boyfriend for you?”

I gathered up what pathetic strength I could muster, pressed my hands against his chest and feebly pushed him away from me. “Leave me alone then … I can take it from here.”
Great way to show gratitude, Kate,
I sneered inwardly.

“KATE! KATE!”
The screaming started up in my head again.

“Just”—I grabbed Sam North’s black leather jacket—“bring me to the bus stop, please. I’ll get home from there.”

He looked at me hesitantly but finally said, “Okay.”

Like a couple on a Sunday stroll, he tucked his arm behind my back, assisting me as I walked. He kept us behind the buildings and away from the students.

“Please talk about something, anything except this,” I pleaded.

“My gig went great that night. Right after we met. I kept thinking maybe you’d show, but you never did.”

“Really?” I panted. “Guilt is what you thought of first?”

“Okay, how about that lecture you gave the other day about wind turbines?”

“You suck at this.”

“My very good friend, who’s like a brother really, his name is Nate, fell hard for my younger sister. He’s all kinds of messed up.” He said it laughing a little, as if he were amused. That was good. Distracting.

“Yeah? Tell me more.”

“Okay, my hometown is Williston, North Dakota. My parents own most of the western side of the state, along with sections of Montana, Alberta and Saskatchewan. My dad is a successful rancher turned even more successful oil company owner.”

“Bakken Oil Field?” I’d heard quite a lot about it.

“Yeah. Anyway, when Nate was a kid he went to school with my older brothers, Jake and Caleb, and soon enough became a fixture in our household. His mom ran out on his family when he was young and his dad would bust him up a lot. I grew up with him around. He learned my dad’s business. Oh, and he rides bulls. Well, he was totally in love with my younger sister. So in July, during the rodeos up in Edmonton, the two
finally
admitted they were in love and ran off on a … I don’t know, pre-honeymoon. In August they were married.” 

“It’s a good story.” I smiled. It felt foreign, but it was real.

The bus pulled to the curb. Sam took my arm and helped me up the steps and put me in a seat near a window. He went back to the front and dropped in a coin, came back over and sat in the seat next to me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making sure you get home,” he said, point blank.

“I told you—”

He broke in, “Anyway, you should’ve seen the rock he put on her finger! It was bigger than her hand!”

I gave in. “Did your parents approve?” I wondered aloud.

“Oh, yeah, they love Nate like their own kid,” Sam said.

The lull of the bus was making me want to close my eyes. I felt my head touch down on Sam’s shoulder.

“Where’s your place, Jolie?”

“Queen Anne Apartments. First Avenue.”

Before I knew it, I was being jostled. “We’re here.” Sam helped me to my feet, and I wondered if people thought I was drunk.

When the doorman saw us he leaped to his feet. “Ms. Jolie, are you alright?”

“I’m good, Max. This is my friend Sam. I had an accident earlier … a nasty fall. He’s just making sure I get in safely.”

Max nodded and moved ahead of Sam to hit the elevator button.

“Thanks,” Sam said.

“Of course. If you need anything let me know.”

The elevator doors opened.

“Second floor. Apartment 201.” I was feeling more myself now, and with that came the embarrassment. “I’m really okay from here. You’ve done so much already.”

“I’m not going to bring you all this way to leave you at the door. You have to invite me in for something to drink. At least a glass of water ’cause I’m thirsty as hell.”

He was funny and gracious. I liked him. The fleeting thought that I could use a friend rocketed through my mind. I slammed it down fast.

We walked into my studio apartment. I had my footing now, but was seriously exhausted. The fatigue seemed to squeeze every bit of energy out of my muscles like wrung out damp towels crumpled on the floor. I wanted my bed.

My apartment was set up perfectly for me. It had a full sized bed against the wall on one side and an overstuffed loveseat on the other. My treadmill faced the terrace’s glass paned doors, so I had a nice view of the sound.

Sam had gone straight to the kitchen as if he lived here and came back with two glasses of water from the spring water cooler.

“Thanks,” I said gratefully as he handed me a glass and looked out through the opening between rooms.

“This is a great place,” he remarked.

I sipped my water and set it on the bedside table. “I like it.” I sat down on my bed.

“Want some music?” Somehow he had acquired my iPhone. “Linkin Park, ‘Castle of Glass.’ Great song.”

I started to say I didn’t listen to it anymore, but no sound came out.

I was fading fast. God, Sam was still here, after everything.

Son of a bitch was going to get that coffee.

Chapter Four

“Lost in You”

Three Days Grace

Sam

Sitting on the loveseat on the opposite side of Ms. Jolie’s studio apartment, watching her while she slept in her bed; I couldn’t even imagine what must have happened to her. In a moment I’d watched her simultaneously shatter apart and hold herself together. In class she was always brass tacks and had her shit together. I hadn’t pushed her to tell me anything and she hadn’t offered any explanation, but whatever had happened, her strength was remarkable. She’d looked terrified and was so pale and colorless that I thought for sure she was going to pass out. I still wasn’t satisfied that she didn’t need to be in a hospital, but she was so adamant about not going. Damn it, she could hardly stand when she tried to push me away from her. I couldn’t force her, and I hoped it was the right thing.

I had a feeling any pity would only infuriate her, so I’d just tried to be her friend. It seemed to work, to a degree at least. I got her into her apartment, but she passed out immediately. I’d checked on her several times to make certain she was still breathing.

Then I played snoop. I certainly didn’t know a thing about her, and anything could be going on. What if she had a serious condition? On the bus I saw she wasn’t wearing a medical alert bracelet, and once she went to sleep I even checked her wrists and ankles for the tattoo—nothing. If she had Ativan what else did she have? Did she overdose? I pawed through her bag and found some more medications—antidepressants and anxiety meds mostly, but none looked close to empty and I wasn’t even sure you could overdose on those.

I got back up and checked her. She was sleeping soundly and I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. I sighed in relief. It had been an hour and fifteen minutes since our run-in behind More Hall. Since the bus trip, I’d put my wristwatch on timer mode. I felt like I was playing Russian roulette with her, and if she got worse I would need to have exact times for the paramedics.