I’m anticipating his voicemail when he answers. He’s quiet.
“Torrin?” I let out a long breath, trying to exhale the pent-up fear. “Torrin?”
He’s quiet for another minute, then I hear his sigh. “I’m here, Jade. What is it?”
He sounds tired. Since it’s almost eleven, he was probably asleep. It’s not just tired I hear in his voice though; it’s something stronger. Exhaustion? Fatigue? Something not brought on just by lack of or need for sleep.
“I’m sorry to call you so late . . . after not talking to you for a while—”
“You’re sorry for ignoring my calls for the past two weeks? Is that what you’re saying?”
I hear more noises, but these are different than the crashing ones that sent me flying into the closet. These ones sound like they’re right above me, like something’s trying to crawl through the ceiling to get me.
“I’m sorry for that and everything else.” My voice is breaking from the fear.
“What’s the matter?” His voice is a note higher, more urgent sounding now. “Jade, what is it?”
“I just moved into my new place and . . .” I don’t know what to say. I’m scared? I feel alone? I need someone here with me? I don’t know what to say or what I can say. “I know it’s really late . . .”
“Yeah, you mentioned that already. Can we move past that it’s really late to the reason you called me?” Worry is playing with his voice, breaking it over words like my own.
“I just . . . it’s probably nothing . . . but I keep hearing these noises . . .” I feel like a child running into her parents’ bedroom during a thunderstorm. I’m about to ask him if he’ll come over when I hear something in his background. Movement.
“Where are you?” More noise in the background.
“The Bluff Apartments. I’m unit 2B.”
“I’m coming.” I hear what sounds like a door slam shut. “I can be there in ten minutes.”
I try to ignore the noises coming from above me, but I can’t. The more I ignore them, the louder they seem to become. “There’s a gate. The code is . . .”
I scan my memory for it. Four numbers. Dad wrote them down for me and stuck them to my fridge and tucked them in my purse, but I’d have to leave the closet to get to them. I can’t move. I feel as trapped in this closet as I did in the one Earl Rae kept me in.
“The code is . . .”—I try again—“2477 . . . or maybe it’s 2677. One of those. I think.”
I hear what sounds like the door of his old truck whining open. “I’m coming.”
The line goes dead, but I keep the phone propped to my ear and replay his voice in my head. I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming. I repeat it over and over. It isn’t the first time I’ve repeated these words to myself, picturing Torrin’s face as he says it. I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.
I don’t stop until I hear a pounding on my door followed by the doorbell.
I crawl through the closet, shove the doors open, and run for the front door that’s being pounded on. I run like something’s chasing me and whoever’s on the other side of that door is that only one who can save me.
“Jade?” Torrin hollers, still pounding.
“Coming.” I know he can’t hear me because even I can’t hear me; that’s how small my voice is.
Another pounding—this one seems to rattle the hinges. “Are you in there?”
I slide to a stop in front of the door and just barely manage to remember to disarm the security system before opening the door. It takes me a few tries to enter the right code, and now he’s really pounding on the door. I’d say something to let him know I’m here and okay, but my voice has disappeared. Finally done with the alarm, I twist back to the door and my fingers fight with the deadbolt. When I finally pull the door open, I feel like I’m about to rattle apart from adrenaline and anxiety.
“I’m here,” I pant, feeling my fear start to shed away just from seeing his face.
“What took you so long?” Torrin’s forehead creases as he examines my dark apartment.
“I was in the bedroom.”
He continues to search around me. “Did you lock yourself in the closet or something? Because I was about to break down the door if it took you five more seconds to get here.”
“Um, yeah, actually, I did kind of lock myself in the closet.”
He stops searching the room and looks at me. The hard lines fade from his expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . .”
“No, it’s okay.” I shake my head. “It’s okay. I just . . . after hearing those noises, being alone in a new place, my first night.” I close my mouth when I realize I’m speaking a run-on list of fragmented thoughts. “I was scared, and all I could think to do was call you.”
“Because I was the closest one?”
I step aside and pull the door open wider for him. “Because you know how to chase the fear away.”
Because you’re my tether. The one who can pull me back from the dark places and lead me forward into the bright places again. Because you keep me connected to the person I used to be but stay at my side as I navigate the world this new person’s landed in. That’s what I really want to say, but like most of what I want to say to Torrin, it never actually gets said.