The Sophomore (College Years #2) - Monica Murphy Page 0,112
few. Let me hop in my car,” I tell her, ending the call before I walk back in to speak with Rick.
“Jackson.” Rick smiles, approaching me with his hand out. “So glad you’re here. Ready to talk?”
“No,” I tell him gruffly, noting the surprise in his gaze. “I have to go. Something came up.”
Rick frowns. I’m sure he doesn’t get turned down often. “Jackson. I rearranged my entire schedule to fit you in this morning. And I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fit you in again.” He pauses. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I do, I understand.” I tell him with a firm nod. “And I get it. Sorry to waste your time, sir, but my girlfriend is in the hospital. I gotta go.”
Before he can even say anything, I’m tearing out of his office, my mind going a million miles a second, telling me I need to leave.
I need to get to Ellie.
By the time I’m driving through the south end of Fresno—in record fucking time I might add—I receive a call from Tony.
“What’s up?” I answer, knowing he’s been with Hayden this morning at the hospital.
“They released Ellie. She’s going home with her parents,” he says.
“How is she?”
“She’s okay. Awake at least. Tired.”
“How bad is it? Tell me the truth. Don’t sugarcoat it,” I demand.
“Her nose is swollen and she has two black eyes,” he says.
“Fuck. I’m going to murder that guy,” I say through clenched teeth.
“He’s in jail,” Tony says. “Got arrested for public intoxication and assault. Maybe a few other charges. Not sure.”
“Where is she now? At her apartment?” I can’t even compute exactly what Tony is telling me. I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t know what to do. My emotions are everywhere. I feel helpless. Disappointed in myself. When things got rough, I wasn’t there for her. And if I plan on having any sort of career in music, I won’t be here for her most of the time.
Which makes me feel like absolute shit.
“Her parents took her home. She’s with them,” Tony says.
I punch the steering wheel, frustration rippling through me. “I’m going up there. I’m calling her right now.”
“I don’t think she has her phone on her, but she told us she wants to see you,” Tony says.
“Where the hell is her phone?”
“It got lost in the car, I think? I have no idea. The police might have it. The car was taken in for evidence,” he says. “Or it was just towed? Not sure. It broke down on her last night in the parking lot at the Doghouse Grill. That’s how the guy caught her in the first place.”
“Fuck.” I pound the steering wheel again, so hard it hurts my hand. “I hate that fucking car. She needs a new one.”
“She can’t afford one,” he reminds me.
“I’m buying her one. Fuck this. I’m tired of it. I’ll trade in this shitty Mercedes and get Ellie something that’s dependable. I can drive whatever.” I don’t care. I was a pretentious little shit in high school, but I’m realizing that material things don’t mean shit if you don’t have the one you love sitting beside you.
“You’re going to actually buy Ellie a car?” Tony sounds amused.
“How can you laugh at a time like this, huh? Fuck, she almost died!”
“Jackson, calm down. She didn’t die. That’s the best thing about this. And you don’t realize that because you haven’t seen her yet. Yeah, she’s sore and she looks like hell, but she has a pretty good sense of humor about it.”
“A sense of humor? Some asshole attacked her,” I stress, barely able to wrap my head around those words.
“A drunk loser who’s upset because his wife left him. That’s what the police officer told Hayden when he talked to her earlier this morning,” Tony explains.
A ragged breath escapes me. I won’t be able to calm down until I see Ellie for myself and know she’s okay. I need to hear her say those words. Until then, I’m in pure freak out mode. “I’ll be at her parents’ house in an hour. Probably less.”
“You know where they live?”
I hesitate for a moment. “Uh, no.”
“I’ll text you the address. Oh, and Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“She’ll be all right. Really. She’s a lot stronger than everyone thinks she is,” Tony says before we end the call.
His words are supposed to be reassuring, but it doesn’t work. I’m stressed the entire drive, gripping the steering wheel so tight, my fingers are fucking cramping up.