Page 19 of The Keeper and I

Jordan held his phone away from his ear at the screech in Ava’s voice. It had been less than twelve hours since he’d gotten a message from Laci on Instagram, and he was still unsure how to answer. He’d let it stew and tried to paint to clear his head, but once again, his hands had a mind of their own and they painted Laci; this time with the whole canvas in blues, from deep navy to powder blue, covering all the different colors of the sky.

“I told you, I don’t know how to answer,” he said, putting his sister on speaker. “I can’t be her bodyguard. If this prick won’t leave her alone, she needs to get the police involved.”

“You know as well as I do they can’t do fuck all unless he hurts her,” Ava said.

He frowned as his chest tightened at the idea of any harm coming to Laci. He shook his head. “I just…I don’t know what she even means. What am I meant to do?”

“You can’t know that unless you fucking talk to her, knobhead.”

He huffed. “It’s not that simple.”

“J,” Ava sighed. “I know she’s special to you, in a way…but—”

“It’s more than that. She’s the person I’ve had inside my head since I was…I dunno, six? Before I can even remember.”

“I know, I know. But—can’t you forget about that for a while and help her out?”

He tapped the end of his paintbrush against his leg. “What she needs is protection. There are services she can—”

“But she’s asking you,” Ava cut him off. “And besides, maybe you could…get to know her so she’s more than just a picture in your head.”

He leaned back and sighed, staring at his painting while he mulled over the suggestion. Truthfully, he’d be thrilled to get to know Laci better. But this wasn’t how he wanted it to go. She was only seeking him out to deceive a persistent fan not because she was actually interested in him, Jordan. If they were going to get to know each other, he wanted it to be genuine. Continuing a pretense would only lead to him getting hurt, he was sure of it.

“I know enough people,” he muttered.

“Oh, is that so, mister I-only-go-out-half-an-hour-every-week- with-the-same-ten-lads-I-see-every-fucking-day?”

“Fuck off, Ava.”

“Answer her message.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Have you got anything better to do?”

“That’s not a reason to—”

“Answer her message then.”

“Ava—”

“Answer the fucking message, J, or I’ll reach clear through this receiver and choke you to death.”

“Fine!”

He snatched his phone, extra noisily to grate on Ava’s ears in retaliation, and pulled up his Instagram. He opened the message for what had to be the one-hundredth time and looked at the words Laci had written.Sorry to keep bothering you. But…how serious was that offer to help me with anything else?

He blanked. “What do I say?”

“Just say you meant it and ask what she needs. It may be as simple as another photo.”

“You’re right. That’s probably all it is,” he agreed, and began typing a reply.

“What are you saying?” Ava asked after a moment of silence.

“What you told me to say.”

“No, like what are the exact words you’re using? Read it aloud.”