With Me From The Start (With Me - book 1)

Chapter 11

Joe's grip on me loosened as he turned and looked at the photographer who shouted that hurtful comment at me.
"What did you say?" Joe asked.
"You heard. I just said that I wished that she had died in that crash," The photographer replied.
I looked at the photographer and tears started to fall from my eyes.

Joe's grip on my faded away completely. "Joe, please don't."
He started to walk towards the photographer but my little brother, Austin, grabbed him by the arm.
"Don't do this here. We'll deal with him," Austin told Joe in a whispered voice that was only loud enough for me and him to hear.

Joe and Austin exchanged a glance before he turned back and helped me get into the car.
Once I was settled into the car, Joe closed the door over and walked round to the other side and got in. He reached over for me and pulled me close to his side so my head head rested on his shoulder.

He took numerous deep breathes to try and steady his anger that had built up within him.

I placed my hand on his chest and he held it tightly.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered as the car started to move.

“It's okay,” I whispered, trying my hardest to stop crying.
He kissed the top of my head and sighed. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone get close enough to hurt you. I'm going to take care of you."
I sniffed and just sat in silence the rest of the way home.

The car came to a stop outside my parents house and I pulled away from Joe to look at it.

The four-story, custom-built home stood facing onto a perfect manicured garden that had bursts of coloured plants occupying it.
"You okay?" Joe asked me, making me snap out of my gaze.
I clear my throat before replying, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Let's get you inside and we'll get you something to eat." He opened the door at his side and held his hand out for me to take. I placed my hand in his and slid across the back seat before stepping out onto the stoned driveway.

I breathed in the fresh air as we walked towards the front door. Finally, home where I belong.

Stepping inside the house was different from every other time I had stepped inside of it. There were lots of flowers spread across every room I had access of seeing and even in the hallway. I slowly moved away from Joe and walked into the main living room.

'Get Well Soon' cards covered the large glass coffee table as well as the window sill and the black grand piano that sat nestled away in the corner of the room. I winced at the pain in my side as I quickly turned and started to walk towards the piano.

I looked at the large bouquet of white roses that sat on top of it and picked up the card that leaned against the vase:

'To my dearest granddaughter,
Your grandfather and I are so saddened at the fact that we couldn't come down to see you in hospital. We would have come down but we don't want to risk anything.
If you are reading this right now, then you are safe and well again.
Hopefully, you will be back sitting at your piano playing sometime soon.
Don't forget, life is too short and remember what I told you a few years back, don't take having this life for granted.
Your are very talented and can achieve anything in the world.
We love you Amelia.

Lots of love,
Your grandparents
xxxx'

Tears fell from my eyes again and within seconds, I felt Joe's arms around my waist.
"Is this happy tears or sad tears again?" He asked with concern in his voice.
"It's happy tears this time," I replied.
I placed the card back on the piano and took Joe's arms away from around my waist so I could sit on the seat in front of the piano. Joe lingered behind me and lightly placed his hands on my shoulders.
"I need to get my confidence back again,” I whispered.
"You will and I'll be right here next to you when you get it back." He told me with confidence.
I touched one of the keys on the piano and looked up at him. "My gran's right, I can't take the life I lead for granted anymore. I've been so ungrateful up to this point. I can't be like that anymore.”

“What do you want to do then?”

“I want to do something productive but I'll have to ask my dad about it before I can say for definite that I want to do it.”