Inhale, Exhale - By Sarah M. Ross Page 0,57

to tell him what happened, but I wouldn’t utter a peep. I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea about Jillian and then spreading it around the office.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off. Cover for me.”

“What do you mean you’re taking the day off? You never take time off unless someone’s dead. And even then you’d probably bring your laptop to the funeral. So what gives?”

I paused, scrubbing my hand over my forehead while I tried to think of what to tell him. “Something came up that can’t wait. I know it’ll be hard, doing it alone and all, and I feel real bad leaving you in a bind. So if anything major comes up you can’t handle, I’ll come back tonight and I’ll fix it.”

JT crossed his arms. “Pfft! I can handle anything that comes up. Go on, get outta here. I’ll hold down the fort.”

I smiled wickedly as I made my way toward the car. JT had fallen right into that, and he didn’t even see it coming.

But all thoughts of JT faded as I drove. What could have happened to make Jillian contact me? Whatever it was, it was urgent. I hoped nothing happened with her grandmother again. That family had been through enough recently.

I made it to the playground twenty minutes later. I could see from the parking lot that Jillian was there, pacing back and forth between the sliding board and swings with her hand to her mouth. Knowing her, she was biting the side of her thumb again. She looked stunning in a strapless purple sundress bathed in the Georgia summer sun. She paused and took her hair out of the braid, piece by piece until it was all free and cascaded in waves down her back. She began braiding it again and then shook it free once more. The soft locks almost looked like a dark gold at this angle. I wanted to stand back and watch her all day. I could have, she was that beautiful.

But even at this distance, I could see she was plagued with worry. Even if she was pissed as hell at me, I couldn’t stand by if there was something I could do to ease it—if only for a few moments.

She turned my way when she heard the car door slam, and even at this distance I saw her face crumble. I quickened my pace, anxious to get to her. Her lip quivered as I approached, and then the tears fell as I scooped her in my arms. Her knees buckled, so I carried her to a nearby bench and let her just cry.

A ton of worst-case scenarios ran through my mind as to why she was so upset, but I didn’t want to ask. I knew she’d explain why she’d asked me here as soon as she was ready. Until then, I was content to have her in my arms again.

When her crying slowed some time later, she began to speak—softly, as if it were a secret.

“I should have listened to you. I was so naïve. I must have been blind not to see it all this time.”

“What didn’t you see, Jillian? What happened?”

She sighed. “I don’t even know where to start. Everything just unraveled and then it exploded.”

She lifted her head from my chest and faced me. It was the first time I’d gotten a close-up view of her face today, and I was floored. I held her chin gently between my thumb and forefinger and turned her face slowly from side to side, examining her. She had a large, purpling bruise on most of her left cheek, and her eye was beginning to swell. There was no cut, but there was a faint outline of three fingers near her temple. Someone had hit her—hard.

I fought to remain calm, but it was a losing battle. I couldn’t see straight as every instinct in my body told me—urged me to action. “Did that son of a bitch hit you?”

Her eyes began to pool again, and she only nodded in reply.

“That god-damned piece-of-shit motherfucker.” I growled, breathing heavily through my nose to keep my temper in check. I clenched and unclenched my hands, wanting to punch something. My heart raced with a surge of adrenaline, and I began to shake in anger. My muscles tightened as rage filled me, consuming and overpowering any rational thought.

I wanted to leave her here and go hunt him down, but I knew I couldn’t. She was still on my