Kelly

I HEAR HER BEFORE I SEE HER. The sounds of her anguish fuel me, my heart pumping so fast, I feel like my whole body is vibrating.

Finally, I round the corner and briefly take in the scene before me. A crowd of people huddled around a bench just outside the haunted house, my girl seated in the center of the hubbub.

"Baby girl." The word is barely a breath, but Sutton looks up and our eyes lock. Her cries momentarily pause, and everyone turns to look what's got her attention, their gazes landing on me. I ignore them, though, as I push my way through and fall to my knees on the ground before her.

"Kelly." My name is an exhale, her whole body shuddering.

I scan her, my brain working overtime to piece together what's wrong. I first notice the trickle of blood running down the side of her face from a cut on her forehead. Vivi, who is seated next to her on the bench, grips a wad of bloody napkins. Next, I see her cradling her arm, an ice pack discarded in her lap. It's her pale complexion that steals my breath, though, her skin looking ghostly white.

"Hey," I say in a forced calm I'm not entirely sure how I manage, my hands instinctually landing on her knees, rubbing a comforting pattern over her jeans. "I'm here, baby girl. It's ok. I'm here."

Tears leak down her cheeks as her crying resumes. I look to Vivi for answers, and it's then I notice she's also holding a cereal bar, the wrapper torn halfway down. She offers this to her sister, who reluctantly nibbles on the end of it.

"What's going on?" I ask the group at large, scanning their faces. "What happened?"

My gaze lands on Jensen, who's standing guard at the other end of the bench, his arms folded across his chest. His face tells me my secret is no longer a secret and my impending black eye is imminent. I ignore him, though, returning my attention to Vivi.

"Viv? What the fuck is going on?" My tone is harsh, impatient, bordering on panicked.

"I think she must have forgotten to eat today. Her blood sugar was too low. Probably a hypo. She must have gotten dizzy and lost her balance, and with it being so dark in the haunted house, she somehow fell and landed on one of the displays. We heard her scream and rushed back to her. She's been a bit out of it, refusing help until you came."

"A hypo?" I asked, studying Sutton as she continues to nibble on the cereal bar.

"Mild hypoglycemia. It's when her blood glucose levels get too low," Vivi explains. "I got her to take a glucose tablet and now she's following that up with the cereal bar. She'll be fine in a minute. She's just a bit out of it right now. But she'll be fine. Banged up, though. Her wrist might be sprained, and she might need stitches. You should convince her to go to the hospital. Like I said, she refused any help. She kept asking for you."

Diabetes, right. It's easy to forget she has type 2 diabetes since she rarely discusses it, quietly managing it on her own.

I rub my hands up and down her thighs, waiting for her to focus her attention on me. Her eyes are a bit glazed as she blinks the tears away.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I never forget to eat. I don't know..."

"Hey," I shush her, wiping the moisture from her cheeks. "It's ok. You're ok."

She nods as if my words are the confirmation she's been seeking, and she takes another bite, chewing slowly.

"Will you let me take you to the doctor? I think we should get you checked out. Will you let me take care of you, baby girl?" I squeeze her thighs, my thumbs rubbing calm circles.

She nods again and then tries to stand but quickly loses her balance.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy. Let me help you." I rise to my feet and gently pull Sutton up; and when I see that she's steady, I lift her into my arms holding her like a new bride. She wastes no time snuggling into my arms, burrowing her face into the crook of my neck. I can feel her breaths against my skin, and I release a shuddering breath of relief. She's fine. She'll be fine.

"I'm taking her to the ER," I inform the Andersons, but it's the eldest one my attention is set on.

Jensen's jaw is clenched, the swirling emotions in his eyes a looming premonition. I don't have time for that particular confrontation right now, though. He nods, a confirmation he heard my statement. And when I begin walking back through the hordes of people, I don't need to look behind me to know they're all following. The Andersons stick together.

-

I GLANCE OVER AT THE PASSENGER SEAT of my truck just as an approaching car's headlights illuminate the dark cab a few hours later on our way home from the Maybury ER, highlighting Sutton tucked into the seat, her hair a tangled blonde mess behind her on the headrest. Her eyes are closed, her breathing even, and I mistakenly think she's sleeping.

"I can feel you looking at me, Kelly. It's a lot safer if you watch the road instead. I'm fine." Her haggard voice conveys her level of fatigue, and I reach over the center console to take her small hand in mine, squeezing lightly. She sighs in response.

I'm fairly certain she can conduct an entire conversation solely with sighs based on the amount of times she's communicated with them during our ER visit. Once she was checked out by the doctor and it was confirmed her blood glucose level was back to normal, she sent her family home while we waited on the x-ray results of her right arm. She didn't end up needing stitches for the cut on her forehead, but it was deep enough that it'll probably scar.

The ER was backed up, as usual, so the wait on the x-ray results dragged on and on, Sutton's sighs filling the small room. Eventually, I gave up trying to talk to her, instead climbing onto the cramped bed alongside her, pulling her body into mine. She resisted at first, her body rigid next to me, but she reluctantly softened into my embrace with a sigh.

Luckily, her wrist just suffered a deep bruise, not a sprain or break. She cradles the arm against her chest now, a limp ice pack abandoned on her lap.

Her phone buzzes in her bag and she struggles to extricate it with her left hand. "It really sucks I had to go and injure my right arm," she complains irritably, finally wrangling her phone. The glow from the screen lights her face once she unlocks it and checks her messages.

"Heads up," she says with a groan. "We've got visitors waiting for us at my house."

I glance at her to gauge her reaction. "Jensen?" When she confirms it with a nod, it's my turn to sigh. Looks like the inevitable confrontation will be happening tonight after all, just not exactly how I planned it.

"Sorry," she whispers with a wince.

"No, Sutton, you don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm the asshole here. Not you. What I said earlier...how I acted..."

"Oh shit," she interrupts, her head whipping over to look at me, her phone held up as evidence. "You were going to tell him tonight?"

I see our text exchange pulled up on her phone just before the screen fades to black. I simply nod in response. When she doesn't say anything else, I risk another glance in her direction to see her silently wiping tears from her cheeks.

"Shit, Sutton. Please don't cry. Jesus, I'm so sick of making you cry." I reach over to grip the back of her neck under her hair, smoothing my thumb over the soft skin. "I'm fucking this up so bad. We never should have hidden us. We should have been honest from the start. I'm an idiot, such a fucking idiot. Anyone can see you deserve to be treated far better than I treated you, and I regret it so much. God, Sutton, I wish I could rewind and redo it. I'd make a different decision, the right one."

"Stop, Kelly," she says on a sniffle. "It was my idea to keep it a secret. It wasn't fair of me to place all the blame on you like that. You did ask me to give you time and I tried; I really did. I promise you, I did. It's just..." She cuts herself off with a sigh, her gaze glued to the scene out the windshield.

"Hey," I say gruffly, gripping her neck softly. "I don't regret anything between us. I want you to know that. I need you to know that. I've fucking loved every minute of us. Ok? Every single fucking minute." I pause to inhale a deep, steadying breath before continuing. "No matter how this goes tonight, I need you to know that. Ok?"

I pull up alongside the curb in front of Sutton's house. Jensen's truck is parked in the driveway and the house is lit up like there's a party awaiting us.

I turn to Sutton, wanting to reassure her but not really knowing how. "You ok?"

Her blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears, emotions cycling through their depths. "Not really, no."

"Yeah," I admit. "Me either."

She leans over the center console, wincing when she hits her bruised arm on the dash, and places a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. "It's going to be fine, Kelly."

I might have an easier time believing her if her words held any conviction whatsoever.

Before she can pull away, I grip her neck and lightly hold her in place, dusting my lips over hers. "Tell me you believe me, baby girl. I've loved every minute of us." I press a gentle kiss on her mouth, resting my forehead against hers. "Tell me. Please."

Lifting her head up to look me in the eyes, she whispers, "I believe you, Kelly."

"Good," I say, smacking a hard, quick kiss on her lips. "Because I couldn't stand going in there and having to face your brother if you doubted that even a little bit."

We exit the truck, and as I round the front of it, I'm caught in the headlights that haven't yet turned off; and it feels fitting to find myself in the spotlight of my own making.

I quickly catch up to Sutton, grabbing her uninjured hand in mine, and we walk up the sidewalk together. Pausing on the landing by the front door, she looks up at me, and the expression on her face nearly guts me. It's a mixture of dreaded anticipation and anxiety. I wonder if my face mirrors her. I imagine mine wears more fear than anything. This is the moment I've been avoiding for weeks after all.

I cup her face with my free hand, peering into those swirling blue orbs. "Hey," I whisper, this conversation only for us. "Don't worry. This is on me. Let me handle this. I just need you to remember what I said the other day. There was never a choice. It's always been you. This," I motion toward what awaits us in the house, "has never been about you. This is on me. Ok?"

She pulls out of my grasp and shakes her head. "No, Kelly," she says as she opens the door. "That's not how this is going to go. We're in this together. And it is about me. I know what you're saying. But you're wrong. So you can forget whatever it is you think you need to do and get over yourself."

With that she steps into the house, pulling me in with her.