“Pull over!” he shouts back, a wide grin spreading across his face.
I pull Vance’s rental into the lot of an ice-cream shop, and he parks next to me. He’s out of his piece-of-shit car before I am and rushes over to yank my door open.
“You’re back and you didn’t even tell me?” he yells, patting me on the shoulder. “And, damn, tell me this Beemer is a rental, or did you get rich on me?”
I roll my eyes. “Long story, but it’s a rental.”
“Are you back for good, or what?” His brown hair is cropped short now, but his eyes are just as glazed over as they always were.
“Yeah, I’m back for good,” I answer, settling it. I’m staying here and she’s going back, simple as that.
He studies my face. “Where are your fucking rings? You took them out?”
“Yeah, I got sick of them.” I shrug, but examine his face. When he turns his head a little, the light catches two little studs beneath his lips. Damn, the kid got snakebites.
“Damn, Scott, you look so different. It’s fucking crazy. It’s been, what, two years?” He throws his hands up. “Three? Hell, I’ve been high for the last ten years, so I couldn’t tell you.” He laughs and digs into his pocket to pull out a pack of smokes.
I decline when he offers me one, which earns me a raised brow. “What, you like straight edge now?” he accuses.
“No, I just don’t want a fucking cigarette,” I snap.
He laughs the way he always did when I would get this way. He was always the leader of our little group of delinquents, older than me by a year, but enough that I always looked up to him in a way and wanted to be like him. That’s why when an even older guy named James came along and he and Mark started the games, I jumped right in. It didn’t bother me the way they treated girls, even when they taped them without their knowledge.
“You’re a bitch now, aren’t you?” He smiles, his lit cigarette between his teeth.
“Fuck off. You’re high right now, aren’t you?” I knew he would always remain this way, always high and stuck in his glory days of fucking loads of chicks and staying high.
“Nah, I’m coming off of a long night, though.” He grins, obviously proud of himself as he remembers whatever, or whoever, he did last night. “Where you headed now? You staying at your mum’s?”
My chest tightens at the mention of my mum and the house that I burned to the ground. I can feel the hot smoke on my cheeks and see the bright flames swallowing the house when I looked back before climbing into the car with Tessa. “No, I’m staying between places.”
“Oh, got it.” He doesn’t get it, though. “If you need a place to crash, you can stay at my place. James is my roommate now—he’d get a kick out of seeing your grown ass, too. All Americanized and shit.”
I can hear Tessa’s voice in my head now, begging me not to go down this familiar, easy road, but I ignore her protests and nod at Mark. “I need a favor, actually.”
“I can find you anything you need—James sells now!” Mark responds with some pride.
I roll my eyes. “That isn’t what I mean. I need you to follow me to my hotel so I can drop something off, then take me to Gabriel’s to get my car.”
I will have to extend the rental time, if they’ll allow it. I choose to ignore that an entire apartment and a car are back in Washington. I’ll figure that shit out later.
“Then you’ll come to my flat?” He stops. “Wait, who are you dropping shit off to?” Even high, he didn’t miss that detail.
There is no fucking way in hell I’m telling Mark about Tessa, no fucking way. “Just some chick.” I feel the burn in my throat as I lie about who Tessa is to me, but I need to protect her from this.
He walks back over to his car, pausing before he gets in. “She hot? I can wait outside if you need to fuck her again. Or maybe she’ll let me—”
My vision goes red and I take a few breaths to calm down. “No. Fuck no. Not happening. You’ll stay in the car. I’m not even going inside.” When he doesn’t look convinced, I add, “I mean it. If you get out of the fucking car and go anywhere near—”
“Dude, chill the fuck out! I’ll stay in the car!” he shouts, and holds up his hands like I’m a cop.
He’s still laughing and shaking his head as he follows me out of the parking lot and back onto the street.
Chapter eleven
TESSA
I check my phone where it’s plugged into the wall. “He’s been gone for over an hour.” I try to call him again.
“He’s probably just taking his time,” Kimberly says, but I can see the doubt in her eyes as she tries to comfort me.
“He’s not answering. If he went back to that bar . . .” I stand up and being pacing.
“He’ll probably pull up any minute.” She opens the door and peeks out, looking left and right, then down. She says my name quietly, but her voice sounds off. Something’s not right.
“What? What is it?” Is Hardin in the hallway? I zip over to where Kimberly is just as she bends down . . . and grabs my suitcase.
Dread takes over, bringing me to my knees. I barely feel Kimberly’s arms around me as I open the front pocket of the suitcase.
An airline ticket, a single airline ticket, is there. Next to it, Hardin’s key chain with the keys to his car and apartment still attached.
I knew this was coming. I knew he would back away from me the moment he could. Hardin can’t handle any type of emotional trauma, he just isn’t equipped. I could have, should have, been preparing for this, so why does this ticket feel so heavy in my hand and my chest feel like it’s on fire? I hate him for doing this to me, so quickly and out of anger, and I hate myself for not preparing for this. I should be tough right now; I should pick up the tiny scrap of dignity I haven’t lost and stand tall. I should take this ticket, grab my damn suitcase, and get the hell out of London. That’s what any self-respecting woman would do. It’s simple, isn’t it? I keep this thought in my head as my knees buckle below me, my hands shake, covering the embarrassment on my face as I break into pieces over this man, again.