He was quiet.
His head bowed a bit, maybe in shame, maybe in submission, and then he pressed the unlock button on the door and rasped, “Be safe.”
As much of an ass he was.
He always told me to be safe.
As if I mattered.
As if my safety was his top priority.
And I’d had it.
“Don’t,” I pleaded, my throat thick. “Don’t ask me to be safe when the most convenient thing for you right now would be to lay down in front of your car and squeeze my eyes shut as you put it into drive—”
“Stop!” He had my wrist in his hand before I could escape, his chest heaved, and then he was pulling me, jerking harder, until I was nearly halfway across the console.
Hand shaking, he released me. I was too afraid to move. His blue eyes flashed as he reached out and touched my cheek with his right hand, then his left.
In all my life, I’d never felt revered.
But in that moment, I was somehow his.
Owned by the look on his face.
By the clench in his jaw and the trembling of his fingertips as he held me captive and whispered. “I don’t know how.”
“How?” I repeated, throat dry.
“To be a friend to the one person I blame for taking everything I’ve ever held close in my life, and yet I know I should. I want to, but then I see you, and I see—” His voice cracked. “I see her. I see those last moments.”
I leaned in. “Her last moments?”
“Protect Annie,” he whispered. “Protect Annie.”
“Wait, what?” My voice shook.
He pulled away. His hands dropped, his stone-cold face was back. “You’ll be late for lab, Annie. Run along.”
Run. Along?
Seriously?
“Sometimes I hate you,” I said under my breath.
He just let out a dark chuckle and whispered back. “Good, that makes two of us.”
Chapter Nine
“Life hurts a lot more than death.” —Anonymous
Ash
November
I made her breakfast.
I watched her eat.
I smiled as much as I could, even though I knew I was spiraling again without any reason why.
My brain told me it was because Annie reminded me of Claire.
But my heart?
My fucking heart told me it was because we weren’t so sure anymore because we were starting to question, starting to wonder, starting to do so many things that made me want to project my anger onto the only object I had.
She drank her orange juice. A drop slid down her chin before she blushed and wiped it away with her napkin.
“You ready?” I barked.
Hell, she’d been back for nearly two months, and I still couldn’t get over the way she looked at me—sometimes like I was a monster, sometimes like she wanted to pull me close, hug me tight, and scare the monster into submission, revealing the broken man beneath the surface to afraid to hope anymore.
Annie jumped to her feet and then glared. “Yup.”
She’d been doing that a lot more.
The glaring.
I told myself it was unacceptable.
And then, during the day, I felt my body responding to her defiance, to the way she now lifted her chin at me like she was ready for a fight. I loved it more than I would ever admit.
Just like the way I admired her ability to stay in my company and not strangle me alive.
“Come on.” I grabbed my key fob for the Tesla and nearly jogged out to the car, not even opening her door.
I had one class; she had two. It only made sense that I took her every Friday.
I ignored the way my heart beat a little bit faster as she buckled her seat belt and, like always, set her satchel between her feet, then adjusted the collar of her jacket like it was out of place when we both knew it wasn’t, just a way for her to keep her hands busy, so she didn’t punch me in the face, most likely.
And I realized then that I was lingering, that I was watching, calculating, memorizing.
Such a dangerous thing to do—concentrating on your downfall.
I started the car.
We rode in silence as always.
And I parked. “Pick you up after class.”
“Thank you.”
I nearly groaned.
It was the fucking thank you that got me.
Every. Single. Time.
Because I knew I didn’t deserve it. I knew I was in over my head with this constant need for revenge, for her to feel my pain, right along with this natural need to protect her from every bad thing in this world.
It was like I was playing both hero and villain, and it was exhausting.
“Yeah,” I said. “Same spot.”
“Great.” Her smile was forced.
My chest hurt.
With anger.
Words left unsaid.
Pain.
So much pain because when Annie smiled, I saw Claire’s last few breaths, asking me to do the one thing I couldn’t even stomach.
Take care of her friend.
Watch over Annie.
And so I did both.
I did what Claire asked.
And I got my revenge at the same time.