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I’ve never in my life felt this vulnerable. Even after I lost my mom, I didn’t open up to anyone. When I got benched, I held in all my anger and frustration. So much was building inside me and I made horrible decisions that made everything worse for myself.
“I don’t hate you either, Rome,” she whispers, yet it feels like a shout in the small space because they are the words I desperately needed to hear. “And I noticed the sudden change in the way you were acting. I’m not going to lie, I assumed you had regrets. You’ve distanced yourself from me. You’ve been quiet when I’m around. I could tell something was heavy on your mind.”
I nod in agreement because she’s right. “It’s been you, Freckles. I can’t get you out of my fucking head. It’s making me crazy.” I drop her hand and grip the sides of my head, feeling manic. “I’ve never felt this way before and it’s scaring the shit out of me.”
Her head drops down and she looks at her open palm as if she can see the invisible lines I just drew before her gaze settles on mine. “What are you saying?”
I take a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel while searching for the words to explain, but I can’t find them. “I don’t know what I’m saying, to be honest.”
Elodie reaches her hand over and pats my leg. “It’s okay, Rome. When you figure it out and you want to talk about it, I’ll be here.”
Why is she so perfect? Why can’t she be the horrible bitch I made her out to be in my head?
I drop my head, staring into my lap. “I’m a fucking mess, Freckles.”
“Rome,” she says with sentiment, and I turn to look at her. “You’re not crazy and you’re not a mess. I knew you before our first time, and I know you after. And I have to say, this version of you is my favorite.”
I hum softly. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” She smiles. “You’re being real and I kinda dig real.”
I chuckle. “Still wanna run away and move back to Bakersfield?” I tease, hoping like hell she doesn’t say yes.
“I haven’t decided yet.” And there goes all of the joy my heart was finally beginning to feel. But I made it about me for too long, this is Elodie’s decision to make. “I guess it depends on how all this pans out.”
“This, as in…?”
She sighs, leaning her head back on the seat. “Everything, I suppose. If this person who’s tormenting me gets caught and arrested before they kill me.” She shrugs. “I might consider staying.”
“No one’s gonna lay a finger on you, Freckles. I promise you that.” I reach my hand out and turn her face to me, stroking my thumb over her soft cheek.
“How can you be so sure?” Her eyes search mine for answers she desperately needs.
“Because I plan to get to them before they even have a chance to try.” I think back to how easy it was for me to crack that pipe against Winton’s head. I don’t think Elodie realizes just how much I mean it when I say I will kill to save her.
“Ya know, at some point we have to involve the police.”
“Let’s find out who it is and gimme five minutes with 'em first, then we’ll call the police.”
“Always trying to be the tough guy.” She chuckles as I pull out of the parking lot.
I place my hand on her leg before slamming on the gas. “Trying has nothing to do with it,” I roar over the sound of my engine as I accelerate.
Elodie presses her back firmly against the seat. “Slow down, Rome!”
“Why?” I laugh. “You scared, Freckles?” I glance back and forth between her and the road, pausing for a moment when I look into her eyes. Her expression goes stoic, but her eyes are wide with wonder.
She swallows hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Terrified.”
Me, too, Freckles. Me, too.
I slow down as we approach a main road. It’s quiet for a minute when I hear Elodie’s stomach growl. She grabs her waist and coughs, likely trying to drown out the sound.
On a whim, I whip the steering wheel to the right and turn down the main street where a slew of restaurants are.
“Where are we going?” she asks, still holding her stomach.
“To get you some food.”
