Unthinkable (Unstoppable 2)

She didn’t look up as I rounded the car and lowered myself into the driver’s seat, reaching up to adjust the mirrors. She didn’t move an inch when I stretched my arm out behind her head and backed her car out of the makeshift parking spot, gravel crunching under the tires. She didn’t so much as twitch as my gaze lingered on the side of her head for a beat too long, trying to figure out what the hell was going on in mine.

Brow furrowed, I turned my gaze out the front windshield and shifted into drive. A heavy silence saturated the car as I drove us across town with Lissa clearly intent on giving me the silent treatment. I stole glances at her prone form every few seconds, watched her drag a fingertip through the condensation on the glass and draw out a circle with two dots for eyes and a line curving up at both sides. She stared at it for a few seconds, then made a fist and wiped it away before dropping the side of her head against the window.

The longer the silence stretched on, the more awkward the atmosphere became. This might have been the longest we’d ever gone without her insulting me. And weirdly enough, I fucking missed it. Clearing my throat roughly, I shifted in my seat and stopped at a set of lights.

Angling my head toward her, I murmured, “Ready to tell me what happened back there?”

She hesitated long enough I didn’t think she was going to answer. Then a listless shoulder tipped up. “I kissed him; he took it too far. I was seconds away from ramming a kneecap in his ball sack when you charged in. I had it handled. Nothing to get your tighty whities all wadded up over.” Her head rolled slowly on her shoulders, sliding along the fabric of the seat as she brought her weary gaze to mine and murmured, “I don’t need you to save me, Pretty Boy.”

Her words said one thing, but something was off. The girl slumped in the passenger seat wasn’t the ball-busting bad-ass we all knew and loved. She might not need saving, but something was wrong, and whether or not she wanted me to, I needed to fucking fix it.

Her face fell as I sat and watched her. I swallowed hard, blinking when the light flashed green in my peripheral. I rammed my foot down, pumping the gas too hard, and we both jolted forward when the car lurched. She said nothing, and neither did I. The quiet inside the car resumed, but my mind wouldn’t fucking let up as I traversed the streets.

The loudest thought?

She kissed him.

The bones in my jaw ached from all the grinding, and by the time I eased the car onto Lissa’s street, I’d convinced myself I needed to go back a

nd smash Jackson’s face to pulp. I passed Lissa a sidelong glance as we drew up beside her house, and noticed her body stiffen, her fingernails digging into the seat cushion either side of her thighs.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” she blurted.

“What?” My brows knitted.

“Just… keep driving.” She looked my way, and the plea in those big, blue eyes yanked on my fucking heart strings. “Please.”

I nodded as I sped past her house, my gaze never straying from her face.

A heavy blanket of impotence smothered me when Lissa’s lids squeezed closed, and she slouched back against the window, her short breaths fogging up the glass.

On a normal day, there was a near-constant push-and-pull between us. I fucking hated this. I kept one hand on the wheel and grasped the back of my neck with the other, fitting my head against the headrest, my eyes on her.

“Danny’s having a party.” My voice came out coarse, and I coughed lightly to clear it. “Wanna go?”

Lissa gave her head an almost imperceptible shake.

I flicked a quick look back to the road ahead, slowing at another red light. “You wanna come back to the trailer?”

Her chest lifted, shoulders stiffening, then after a brief pause, she said, “Okay.”

Errant thoughts scrambled my brain as I sat and stared a hole into the side of her face. The lights shifted from red, to green, and back again before I dragged my head out of my ass and put the car into motion.

I couldn’t fucking stand seeing Lissa so subdued. I liked her fire, her bite, her sharp tongue.

I’d take a hundred fucking tongue lashings from her, if it meant she wasn’t hurting.

SEVENTEEN

LISS

The lights flickered on overhead as I walked into the trailer behind Leon. My legs locked in place as I hesitated in the doorway, questioning my decision to accept his invitation. I’d tossed it around in my mind the entire drive over, going back and forth. But the thought of going back home…

I wasn’t ready to deal with it.

From my vantage point by the door, I observed Leon as he collected empty soda cans and chip packets from the floor before depositing them in the trash.

“Still living like a pig, I see.” It was easy to fall into my default mode, but my tone came out lighter than intended. I drew my lip between my teeth and bit down.