67

I'm here, are you okay?

I'm fine. Jimmy's sleeping, I'm watching TV. Good journey?

Yeah, no hitches. I'm going to take a shower, can I come over after?

I guess. We're in Room 204.

Once I'm done in the shower, I head out to find Izzy's room.

I tap gently on the door, anxious not to disturb Jimmy. She pulls it open and slips out, wedging one of his shoes in the gap to stop the door closing behind her. She's dressed down in yoga pants and a hoodie and her hair is pulled back messily, fastened loosely at the back of her neck. It's the first time I've seen her since the night we went to the diner. I'm expecting maybe some hostility from her, frostiness at the very least, but there's none.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey."

"I can't believe you came here." She smiles, but there's a sadness behind it.

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?" I lean against the balcony railings, looking out across the parking lot. Izzy comes and stands next to me.

"You're the only person who knows what Phil put me through," she says, I'm guessing as a justification as to why she's here alone.

I turn my head and look at her. She looks young and vulnerable and I just want to bundle her up and protect her from the big bad world.

"I figured."

"It should be fine, I mean, he's been sober a while now. He's a different man altogether when he's not had a drink." She looks up at me. "I don't want you to think I'd ever put Jimmy in danger. That's why I got away in the first place."

"I know."

And I do. I'm fully aware that little boy means the world to her and she'd do anything for him.

Her eyes remain on me, wide and filled with emotion. I can see she's trying to speak and I wait patiently.

"I'm terrified about seeing him again," she confesses at last. I pull her to me and the dam breaks. She clings on, and I hold her tightly as she cries, the powerful yet silent sobs shaking her small body within my arms. My heart cracks a little more with each passing moment, until finally it all begins to subside, then she's calm and still.

"Are you okay?" I ask, stroking her hair gently. She nods and pulls away a little.

"I'm sorry," she says, sweeping her hands across her eyes. "I guess I've been bottling it up. I couldn't say anything to my dad and I can't do that in front of Jimmy."

"You can talk to me any time," I tell her. She raises an eyebrow and I realize that actually, that wasn't the message I gave her when I last saw her. "Shit. That was lousy timing, huh?"

"It's okay, I understand and I think you were right."

"I'm so sorry about that whole night."

She hushes me.

"Not now, hey? I don't think my head can take any more."

"Okay," I agree.

She's jumpy, I notice. Each car that stops, each door that slams, each voice she hears, she's on full alert.

"You'll never sleep tonight in that state," I say.

"What state?"

"You just about jumped a foot in the air when that guy came out of his room, you're wound so tight."

"I can't help it," she says.

"Why don't we go inside? We don't need to talk. I'll sit by the door, at least you can try and relax a little."

She looks up at me gratefully.

"Thanks," she whispers, and leads me in, locking the door behind us.

She settles down on the furthest bed, beside Jimmy and I pull a chair up right behind the door and settle in it.

It doesn't take long until her eyes begin to close and sleep claims her. The worry must have exhausted her. My eyes flit between the TV and the two sleeping forms in the bed across the room. I'm filled with a sense of responsibility to keep these two safe and I know for a fact I'll do everything I can to make sure that happens.

~S~