Page 96 of Rescue

“Her mom gave an interview about what happened to her. About… Randy.”

Oh, shit. An image of Haylee shrinking into James’s arms that night in Glasgow flashes through my mind. She’s so sensitive about what she went through, so defensive. And her mother told the press about it?

“That’s fucked up,” I breathe, and James grimaces.

“Her mom isn’t exactly mother of the year, but this was a low blow even for her.” He watches me for a long moment. “All right, let’s go over there. But if she says no visitors, Lennon, I’m going to respect that.”

“Of course,” I say quickly. I just want to see her, want to assure myself that she’s okay. The idea that this isn’t a one-time thing makes me sick with worry.

Ten minutes later we’re in a taxi heading to the hospital. London is dark and quiet around us, the city asleep. When we get to the hospital, James leads me through the lobby to an elevator. “Listen, Lennon. She’s probably not really herself right now. If she doesn’t want to talk—”

“I’ll feel better being here,” I say, and he nods even though he still doesn’t seem quite sure. I wonder if he had specific instructions not to tell me about this. The thought makes my chest tighten.

“She’s right here,” he says, gesturing down the hall when the elevator opens. “Why don’t you wait here?” There’s a small waiting area to our left. It’s empty.

“No one else is here?”

His face tightens a little. “No one else knows.” Then he leaves me standing there as he goes to ask my girlfriend whether or not she wants to see me.

I collapse into one of the chairs, trying to wrap my mind around what’s happening. Haylee’s mom totally sold her out. I can see why Haylee would be upset. But upset enough to drink herself to alcohol poisoning? James said he wasn’t with her. Did she do this by herself? The thought of her alone in her room, drinking, sad, makes me shiver.

You should have been there.

James doesn’t come back for twenty minutes. When he appears at my side, he looks even more tired than he did before. “I’m sorry, man. She doesn’t want to talk.”

“But—”

“She’s asleep now anyway. They’re going to release her in the morning. I’m sure she’ll see you then.”

I rub my forehead. She’s so close, and I can’t even see her. I feel impotent and guilty and really scared.

“You should head back,” he says. “I can let you know if anything changes.”

“I’m not leaving.”

He watches me for a minute before sitting heavily in the chair next to me. “She’s okay, Lennon. We’ve been here before.”

“You mentioned that.” I sit up straight so I can look at him. “How many times?”

He shrugs. “Not really my business to tell you.”

“But it’s happened before.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway. “Has this been happening for a long time?”

“Just since the, ah, incident.” He sighs. “She has a hard time with it. Nightmares. Panic attacks. She’s stressed, all the time. She keeps waiting for something worse to happen. It was traumatic.”

“He really didn’t hurt her?”

“He held a gun to her head and threatened to kill her if she didn’t agree to run off with him. I think he hurt her plenty.”

I wince. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve never seen her like that. Never seen anyone like that. The terror on her face when I got to the police station.” He rubs his hands over his face. “And every time she freaks out about it, her face is exactly the same. Like she’s still that scared, even after all this time.”

I feel like throwing up. She told me how scared she still was that night at d’Orsay. Did I not take it seriously enough? How had I missed her reaction today? “How’d she get away?”

“She managed to get to her phone when he was in the bathroom. Called 9-1-1. Then she had to sit and pretend like she hadn’t moved until they got there.” A sad smile tugs on his lips. “That’s like her, you know? To save herself. She’s never been one to rely on anyone else.”

“She relies on you.”