-Blake-
I followed Mrs. Simmons even though my instincts told me to run as far away as I possibly could. The woman was crazy for asking me to return with her. She knew who I was and what I had done! She was either crazy or leading me into a trap. I mean, Jordan had been opening up to me, but I had blown it. He wanted me out of his life for good! He told me that loud and clear!
Suddenly, the neighborhood, the houses, and the tall walls were suffocating me. By every step I took, I felt more and more like I was indeed walking into a trap. So, why was I still following Mrs. Simmons?
Because... Because if there still was a chance, no matter how small, no matter if it was just a lie, I couldn't just walk away. Not from Jordan. That man had already trapped me. I was willing to take the risk of getting caught just to see this through. I would spend the rest of my life wondering if I didn't see this through.
I kept glancing over my shoulder, trying to spot any approaching police car or something else out of the ordinary while I walked a few steps behind Mrs. Simmons. My guts told me to turn around and never come back, but my heart had the power over my brains right now, and I couldn't flee.
Mrs. Simmons said Jordan needed me, so how could I just turn my back on him? How could I just leave if there was even the smallest chance that I could stay close to him?
So, I followed like a good little puppy I had turned into.
"When we go in, you keep your mouth shut. Do you understand?" Mrs. Simmons said once we reached their front door. "Let me do the talking."
I stared at her for a moment before I nodded shortly. Mrs. Simmons didn't say a word to me when she opened the door and let me into their house. The sounds of thunder above us quieted down a little when she closed the door behind us.
"Follow me," Mrs. Simmons said, and walked deeper into the building.
I followed her to the stairs, but then I heard footsteps coming from behind us.
"I didn't know we had guests."
I recognized the male voice and froze still, resting my hand on the railing. It was Jordan's father.
"This is Blake – you remember him, right?" Mrs. Simmons spoke.
I turned slowly to look at Mr. Simmons, not knowing what to do or say. The situation was new to me, and I had no idea what Mrs. Simmons was going to tell her husband.
"No, I don't think so," Mr. Simmons said slowly, measuring me with his gaze. "Why are you soaking wet? Why is he bleeding?"
"I went to get him from the gates. Blake here got hit by a falling branch, but it's just a scratch," Mrs. Simmons spoke with a confident smile on her face. "Blake is Tina's nephew. You know, Victoria's son?"
Mr. Simmons didn't seem like he knew who Victoria was. Even better, he didn't seem to even care.
"Oh, right," he said, and was about to walk out of the entrance hall when he suddenly stopped. "Why is he here again?"
"I told you already. He's here to help me with my company," Mrs. Simmons said with an annoyed voice.
I turned to look at her but managed to keep my expression neutral.
"Oh, right," Mr. Simmons grunted before walking away.
Mrs. Simmons sighed heavily and gestured to me to follow her. She led me into one of the bedrooms on the second floor, and when I stepped in, I noticed that it was the guestroom.
"You can stay here for the night and tomorrow we will figure everything out," Mrs. Simmons said, closing the door.
I wasn't quite sure what to say to her. I looked around in the small bedroom, and my eyes landed on the queen-size bed on the other side of the room. When was the last time I slept in a proper bed?
"Why are you helping me?" I asked carefully, keeping my voice down. "I'm a criminal."
"No," Mrs. Simmons said sternly. "You are my new intern."
I frowned at her in confusion. "You know what I am," I said. "You know what I've done. I tried to rob you –"
"Shut up," Mrs. Simmons said almost angrily, and continued with a hushed voice, "You listen to me now. That never happened. You have never done anything illegal in your entire life. You are a college graduate looking for a job. Your mom, Victoria, is the sister of my best friend, Tina, and I promised to give you a place to stay until you find a proper job. Do you understand me?"
I could only stare at her for a moment before I asked, "Why do you want to help me?"
"I'm not helping you," Mrs. Simmons said, and turned to leave the room. Before she stepped out, she turned to look at me one more time. "There are some clean towels in the bathroom. Go take a shower. I'll go tell Jordan that you're safe."
And with that, she left, closing the door behind her. I stood still for a moment, not quite understanding anything that was going on, but I dropped my wet bag on the floor. Part of me was still insisting me to make a run for it, but the rest of me demanded me to stay.
I turned my eyes up at the ceiling, which was the only thing separating me from Jordan at that moment. I couldn't understand why both Jordan and Mrs. Simmons were so eager to trust me. No one in their right mind would trust a thief but for some reason, they did.
I sighed and looked around again. I saw the bathroom on my right and walked to it. I turned on the light and glanced around. I had just realized how cold I was, and my wet clothes made me feel uncomfortable. I had a massive headache from hitting my head and I was still bleeding a little.
I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. I looked awful with blood all over my face. I undressed my clothes and stepped under the hot shower, enjoying the warmth. I could still hear the thunder outside, and I wondered if it was going to calm down that night.
A long while later when I was drying my hair, Mrs. Simmons returned to me.
"I spoke with Jordan," she said quietly, and closed the door again. "He was relieved when he heard that you came back. He says he's sorry for what he said to you earlier."
I let out a long breath after hearing that. I hadn't noticed how nervous I had been before I started to relax. Jordan had told me not to come back, so I had been afraid that he wouldn't be happy to hear that I was now in his home after all.
"Thank you," I said quietly, and cleared my throat. "And I'm sorry about everything."
"No need to apologize. It was wrong for you to try to steal from us, and I must say that I still don't know what to think about you stalking my son," she said sternly before her expression turned cheerier. "But there seems to be a silver lining. I have never seen Jordan so close to anyone. I don't know how you did it, but I am happy that my son has finally let someone close to him."
"I didn't do anything special..." I muttered and blushed lightly.
"Well, you did something. After that horrible night... Jordan has always been scared of all the living things. We tried to give him a dog, but that was a disaster..." Mrs. Simmons sighed.
I tensed up when Mrs. Simmons spoke. Jordan had never told me what had happened to him.
"Horrible... night?" I repeated hesitantly.
"Jordan hasn't told you about it?" Mrs. Simmons asked, but she didn't seem too surprised about it. "He never talks about it. He can't forget what happened even though it happened almost two decades ago."
"What happened to him?" I asked, and Mrs. Simmons sighed.
"Sit down, so I can take a look at that wound," she said, and I did what she said. "Jordan was six years old when his dad took him to see a football game," she started, and grabbed a first aid kit she had brought with her.
I sat still the entire time while Mrs. Simmons told me about the accident. I tried to understand the horrors Jordan had faced that night, but I couldn't even imagine the fear someone so young had gone through. After Mrs. Simmons stopped speaking, I closed my eyes, feeling anger and sadness.
"I had no idea..." I muttered, "If I had known about this..."
"There's nothing you can do about it, except help my son to heal," Mrs. Simmons said and looked me right into my eyes with a pleading look in hers. "Help him. I'm begging you."
"Of course," I said without hesitation. "I will do anything for him."
Mrs. Simmons looked like she was about to start crying when she gave me a shaky smile. "Thank you," she said quietly. "If you help him, I will give you everything you need."
"You don't have to do that," I said. "I would... I'm... I just want to help him."
Mrs. Simmons had a knowing look on her face when she tilted her head. "You like him," she noted.
I blushed even harder at her words. "I – Yeah. Yes," I nodded. "I do like him. I hope that's not a problem."
"It's not. Believe me. My godson is gay," she said. "But if you hurt my boy –"
"I won't, I promise," I hurried to say to prevent the situation turning more awkward than it already was.
Mrs. Simmons narrowed her eyes, but she nodded eventually. "All right. Now we need to come up with a plan to keep your true identity hidden from everyone else."
"My mom is called Victoria and I'm a college graduate," I nodded, even though I didn't like the plan. "You don't have to lie for me. I don't want to get you into any trouble," I added.
"There is nothing I wouldn't do for my son," Mrs. Simmons said. "Victoria is my best friend's sister, but we haven't talked in years. Tina will back us up, and no one remembers Vicky. She lives abroad anyway."
"Does Victoria have a son?" I asked.
"I have no idea – I've never met her," Mrs. Simmons shrugged. "Her last name is Rosen."
"Blake Rosen?" I chuckled and shook my head. "Are you sure you want to do this? You hardly even know me!"
"Keep your voice down!" Mrs. Simmons hushed. "If you are the only person who can help Jordan, then I don't care if you were a mass murderer. I take it that you're not a mass murderer?"
"I have never killed anyone," I said truthfully. "But why would you trust me?"
"Because Jordan trusts you. That's all I need to know," Mrs. Simmons said.
"This could be a plot of mine. I could be planning something," I said.
Mrs. Simmons looked at me for a second with an amused and disbelieving look in her eyes, before she spoke, "If you wanted to kill us, or hurt us, you would've done it already."
"Or I could..." I said and tried to think of something, but I got nothing.
"Rob us? Again?" Mrs. Simmons giggled. "I believe it didn't go too well the last time."
I grinned and shook my head for no. "I suppose I would pick someone else. Maybe I'm using you to rob someone else."
"Please – You can come up with a better plan than that! Like that trick with the bike and the opera tickets and everything," Mrs. Simmons said. "You were really convincing. You should be an actor or something."
I sneered at her apologetically. "I am really sorry for trying to fool you. I regretted it when you took me to the hospital."
"Why?" Mrs. Simmons asked.
I shrugged. "It's just rare for people to treat me kindly."
Mrs. Simmons was quiet for a moment before she looked down at her hands and spoke carefully, "Jordan told me that you've lived on the streets all your life."
"That's true," I said. "It's nothing really – I've gotten used to it."
"But isn't it awful not to have a home? Or a family?" Mrs. Simmons asked. "It must've been lonely."
"It's nothing – really. I'm fine," I said reassuringly. "I've met a lot of interesting people, so I haven't been alone."
"Being alone and being lonely are different things," Mrs. Simmons said quietly. "I can't even imagine what it has been like to grow up in the streets. That is an awful way to live."
"It's really not that bad," I tried to tell her, but she didn't believe me.
"Well, now that I know who you are, I will sleep my nights better, knowing that you have a roof over your head," she said. "You have done so much for Jordan. Now it's my turn to return the favor."
"You don't have to –" I tried to object one more time, but Mrs. Simmons wasn't listening.
"And you need to stop telling me that. I do what I want. It's the best part of being an adult," she said sternly.
I tried to open my mouth, but she raised her index finger in a warning manner.
"This is what Jordan wants. This is what I want. You need to stay here and help him like you already promised. Or are you a liar?"
I hesitated for a moment before I shook my head. "No," I muttered. "I will help him the best I can."
"Good," Mrs. Simmons said and lowered her hand again. "So, your last name is Rosen. Your aunt is Tina Locke, and she is my best friend. She has a son, who is my godson, and now he is your cousin. His name is Tobias. You can come up with a dad if you want, but make it easy to remember and hard to find. You saw my husband, so he's not going to waste his time on you. He's too busy saving his clinic to see what's going on around him."
I memorized everything she told me. There were a lot of details, but I had a good memory, so it wasn't going to be a problem. I still didn't feel good about making others lie for me, especially when Mrs. Simmons was now hiding me, a criminal, in her home. She could get into a lot of trouble if someone would find out about it.
Mrs. Simmons leaned closer to take a look at my wound. She cleaned it carefully, while I sat still on the bed. I wasn't worried about the bump on my head, and I was feeling just fine.
"I have some painkillers for you," she said eventually. "I'll go get you some water. Are you hungry?"
I felt bad when I nodded. I knew how hard it was for the Simmons family, without me eating their food, but I was hungry, almost starving to death.
"I'll go make you some sandwiches," she said with a smile and got up from the bed.
"Hey, uhm... Can I talk with Jordan?" I asked slowly.
"Sure. I have an intercom in my study," she said and gestured me to follow her.
I got up from the bed, and immediately remembered that I was wearing nothing but a towel on me.
"I uh – I need to put on some pants..." I muttered.
"Do you have any dry clothes?" Mrs. Simmons asked.
"Yeah – I put my clothes in a plastic bag, so those should be still dry," I said and grabbed my bag from the floor. "I'm ready in two seconds," I added and walked into the bathroom.
I prayed for my clothes to be still dry, even though the whole bag was soaking wet. I found the plastic bag inside it and opened it carefully. My clothes seemed to be dry enough, but they didn't smell that fresh anymore, even if I had washed them a few days ago. Still, it was better than walking around in a stranger's house with only a towel on.
I found a pair of boxers and jeans and dressed up hastily before I grabbed my T-shirt and exited the bathroom. I pulled the shirt over my head while walking to Mrs. Simmons, who was waiting for me by the door.
"Girls are already asleep, so remember to be quiet," she said before leaving the room.
I followed her into her study and stopped right next to her desk while she sat down, and pressed the button to the third floor on her intercom.
"Jordan? Are you awake?" She asked.
"Yes. How is he?" Jordan answered almost immediately.
"You can ask him that. He's here with me," Mrs. Simmons said and got up from her chair. "I'll go get painkillers and some food for you. In the meantime, you two can talk in private."
After that, she walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the intercom, with Jordan.
"Uh – hi, Jordan," I spoke and sat down on the seat. "Listen – I'm sorry about today."
Jordan was quiet for a moment before he sighed. "No – I'm sorry. I freaked out over nothing."
"You had the right to be mad at me," I said quietly. "I – I heard about your accident."
Jordan was quiet again, and when he did speak, he acted like I hadn't brought up his past. "Are you staying the night?"
"Yeah – your mom lets me sleep in the guestroom," I said, without mentioning the accident again. "She seems nice. A bit loony, but nice."
"What do you mean, loony?" Jordan asked, and I could picture a frown on his face.
"Well, you need to be at least a little insane to let a criminal into your house," I said.
"You're not a bad person," Jordan said, sounding a lot like his mother. "I trust you."
I couldn't help but smile at the intercom. "It's just weird, but I am grateful. And I promise I will never let you guys down."
"I know that," Jordan said almost shyly. "You could've hurt me already, but instead, you've been helping me. I'm – I'm glad that you came back. I'm happy that my mom found you in time."
My smile grew wider, and it was my turn to be silent for a moment. "I don't think I would have left, even if she didn't come to get me," I admitted.
"Really?" Jordan chuckled.
"Really. I don't want to leave you," I said almost silently.
"I – I don't want you to leave me," Jordan said almost as quietly. "You are the first person I can be around with. There is something special in you. You are different than others."
I blushed again, and I was happy that Jordan couldn't see that. "Oh?"
"It's true," Jordan spoke. "I'm not afraid of you."
I lost my words. I stared at the intercom and cleared my throat, but I couldn't find the words to speak.
"You should go get some rest," Jordan said. "We can talk in the morning."
"Yeah – you might be right," I sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"At seven in the evening?" Jordan asked.
"When do you wake up?" I asked. "I don't need to climb up on your balcony this time."
"Oh – right," Jordan said. "I – I still have my schedule..."
I sighed silently. Of course, he had.
"Well, maybe you can open the door for me, and I'll come to see you when I wake up?" I asked.
Jordan was clearly hesitating, when he said, "I'll try."
"It's all right if you don't want to. You can ask your mom to come to get me when you have time to talk," I said.
"That sounds good," Jordan said, and he did sound relieved.
"Good. I'll talk to you tomorrow then," I said, but I was feeling reluctant to hang up.
"Okay. Goodnight," Jordan said.
"Goodnight," I replied tenderly.
Later that night, when I had eaten and downed a few glasses of water with some painkillers, I was lying on the bed in the guestroom. The storm was as angry as ever, but I didn't mind. I was comfortable on the soft bed, under the blankets, knowing Jordan was sleeping right above me on the third floor. I had never felt better. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, and I slept peacefully through the stormy night like a baby, dreaming about Jordan and lawnmowers.