Hate You Not

June lifts her head, and I angle her so they can see her. Both of them are crying.

“I’m okay. I’m not going to heaven. You’re stuck with me.”

Margot says, “Good!”

Oliver wipes his eyes and looks around to see if anybody saw him crying.

“Okay. It’s okay,” I murmur as we move toward the exit, cutting through the line at the concession stand. “You’re going to shut that mouth and try to relax. Let me take care of you. I won’t bite. Just let me be your friend for an hour or two.”

“I would…rather die,” she manages.

I stifle a laugh, so as not to jostle her around. “Oh, c’mon. I’m not that bad.”

“You’re the villain.”

“Sometimes the villain turns out to be the prince.”

“Or the other way around,” she whispers.

“Oh,” I grin, “so you think I look like the prince?”

I think her adrenaline rush is wearing off now, because she moans as we reach the car, and then she’s just whimpering as I hold her against me and watch Shawn run across the parking lot with what looks like an armful of blankets.

He runs up, shaking his head. “Shit, my fuckin’ pants are slidin’ down.” He tugs them up.

“Can you open up the door, man?” I ask. “Put some blankets in here behind the driver’s seat to prop her foot on? And then hold one out so we can cover her up?”

I know June is in a lot of pain, because she’s quiet and still except the panting and shaking she’s doing. My stomach pulls into a knot as Shawn does what I ask.

“You trust me with your wheels?” he asks me. “I can get us there fast. I know the route.”

“Yeah. I’m kind of a backseat driver, though, so nothing crazy.” I start to lay June across the back seat, but as I do, I realize it makes more sense for me to stay back there with her.

“You care if I hold you? I can throw your legs over my elbow so your foot stays elevated.”

She gives a shake of her head. I get us into the car, and I can feel her shoulders sort of curling in. One of her hands covers her face, and I can tell from how her torso shakes that she’s crying.

“Dammit.” My stomach tightens. “I’m so fucking sorry. Let me tell you something that I think will distract you.” She shudders, and I shift so that I’m holding her a little closer. I lean down, so close that I can smell her shampoo—or perfume. It smells fruity, like peaches and vanilla.

“I’m gonna let you keep those puppies,” I whisper. “And those kids. If you’re sure you want to. We can talk about it more, but if you want to, I’ll step back and try to help and let things lie.”

She goes absolutely still for one long moment. Then she groans, “Why?”

I think of the girls talking about dark matter. And June’s sister pulling the kids to her side when June and Hot Rocket fell. And I tell her the truth, surprising myself as much as I bet it surprises her.

“Because you’re who they picked. You’ve got a bunch of family who can help if you need it. And even though this town is small, and I’m still worried about them having every opportunity, I can help with some of that. If you want to raise these kids—like if you really want it—who am I to stand in the way? You were right; I do work a lot more than most people. They would be raised by hired staff. Like I was.” My throat feels stiff on those words, so I swallow hard, staring at the road as Shawn drives like NASCAR.

“You were?” she whispers.

“Yes.” I tighten my grip around her.

“Did you like them?” she asks in a voice that trembles. Cold sweat moves through me; it’s like a sympathetic sensation.

“Some of them were okay. Then at a certain point, it was me doing the watching. Asher was the younger one.” I clench my jaw, unsure why I pointed that out.

She nods, and I hear her sniffle. “I’m sorry you lost him.”

“I’m sorry for you too.”

“Do you…really…mean it?”

“About what?” I murmur. “The kids?”

She nods. I smooth her hair back off her clammy forehead. “Yeah. It was the rodeo that helped me see it. Everybody is so damn nice around here. Friendly and involved in one another’s lives. It’s not like where I grew up. But I think it could work. Especially if you’re being honest and you really want to take them on.”

Her eyes squeeze shut. “I still think you’re an ass.”

“Don’t you listen to her,” Shawn calls from the front seat. “She’s hurt, talking crazy.”

“Traitor,” she hisses.

He laughs. “She’s got a mouth on her. Don’t let anybody tell you she don’t.”

“Don’t worry, no one has.” I grin down at her, and June’s biting her lip again. She starts to pant, and I can see the stark pain on her face.