“I’m going after her, Jo. Tell everyone I said goodnight.” He bolted out the back and jogged into the dark lot. “Julie?”
The sound of metal keys falling to the pavement alerted him to where she was. She bent to pick up her keys, obviously shaken and upset, as the headlights to her Benz flashed bright in the dark night.
“Go away, Patrick.”
He was by her side, closing his hand over the keys and preventing her escape. “Don’t leave.”
Something seemed to rupture behind her eyes as she looked at him, a world of turmoil and distress staring back at him. “You lied to me. You. I never thought…” Her words broke off as she choked on a sob.
He pulled her into his arms, trying to comfort her but she stiffened. His hand rubbed down her back, attempting to soothe her. “It was a stupid thing, and I never meant for it to go this far. Please believe me when I say I never meant to lie to you. I’m still the boy that was your best friend, and I’d rather cut off my own hand than hurt you. No matter how much we’ve changed, that has stayed the same.”
The tension in her shoulders slowly relaxed. “I don’t understand.”
“Jo didn’t feel like dealing with blind dates and everything spiraled. It was stupid. There’s nothing to understand.”
She pulled back a few inches and looked up at him, her pale lashes wet with tears and her eyes confused. She was so delicate yet so fierce, so obviously suffering some sort of personal crisis that appeared a struggle to bear.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, “What did Lance do to you?”
Her chin trembled and her gaze shifted away. “I did it to myself.”
He frowned. Something had happened to her. This wasn’t the same Julie he’d known through grade school or the strong-willed girl he watched become a woman in high school.
He thought back to the numerous psychology classes he took and all the studies he’d read on trauma. “Are you leaving him?”
Her lashes lowered. “Break ups are complicated after being with the same person for years. We’re at the end, but it feels far from over. I think our relationship’s been dying for years.”
Did she blame herself for not leaving sooner? “Sometimes, people make a habit of feeling guilty for their survival instincts. We can’t shut them off. And when survival doesn’t include an immediate escape from a bad situation, it can be mistaken for acceptance. But it’s all part of finding a way out. Even the early, smallest steps matter in the longest journeys.”
He hoped he didn’t sound trite or condescending. His chest burned with uncertainty. All he wanted was to comfort her.
Her breath hitched with a jagged sob, and she hugged him tight, startling him. He slowly closed his arms around her, protectively guarding her from whatever demons she feared and pressed his lips to the top of her head.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Soft whimpers heated his chest through the damp cotton of his shirt as he held her while she cried. The front door of the bar opened, and they both stiffened. She looked up at him, her panicked eyes pleading for him to get her away from there.
“I don’t want to see anyone.”
He’d risk his own life to rescue her. His protective instincts shot into motion. “Come with me.” He walked her to the passenger side of her car and took the keys. “I’ll drive.”
After a quick adjustment to the driver’s seat, he backed out of the lot and steered the car down Main Street. He hadn’t thought about where they could go, they were both sort of homeless and squatting at their parents’ for the time being, but he knew he needed to take her away, someplace quiet, where she could think and possibly talk.
He remembered the bookstore and headed that way, pulling up the lockbox code in the text message the realtor had sent him. It was after ten, so most of the Main Street stores were closed, and there was plenty of parking. As he slid into a space across from the old bookstore, she looked up and frowned.
“What are we doing here?”
“I want to show you something.” He shut off the car and came around to open her door. She hesitated, but he was patient.
He held out his hand, and she slowly took it, rising from the car and following him to the bolted door. She watched silently as he entered the code and removed the key from the lockbox. When the door gave way, he felt a sense of relief.
She paused on the outside of the threshold, and he looked back, his silence telling her he could be as patient as she needed.
“Are we breaking in?”
“No. I have the code and permission from the realtor.”