Page 45 of Wrong For Me


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Hell, who knows? Maybe she had zero to do with it, and she really is the victim. I don’t know. But I have too much going on in my head to stop and consider it.

I wanted nothing more than to hurl myself at her and demand answers she might not have and that the police obviously hadn’t gotten, but I can’t be arrested. Can’t risk losing all I have left by having a mental breakdown where others can see.

I’ll cry tonight, by myself in the shower, not here in front of others who will either pity or earn power over me.

I don’t need pity, and I’d never give them power.

What I want is answers.

I want my dad.

Alec tries to catch my stare through the windshield, but I pretend like I don’t notice, closing my eyes as I drop against the seat.

A few seconds go by, and then Rowan’s door opens. He slides in, gently closing the door behind him.

“Oaks,” Rowan whispers, and I roll my head his way, locking my eyes with his. “I’m gonna take you to get some food. Anything sound good?”

As if I could eat right now.

He’s only trying to help in the way he knows how.

I look back to the road. “Surprise me, Row.”

Rowan ends up running through a Taco Bell drive-through around the corner from his place. When he pulls up at his house, I don’t question it. I follow him inside.

We get comfortable on the couch, neither of us eating more than a few bites of our food, but both soaking in the silence for a little while before he sighs and looks to me.

“I don’t know what to do or say here, Oakley. What do I do?” His gaze drops to the floor before meeting mine again. “Do I ask if you’re okay when I know you’re not? Talk about your dad or ask what the detectives told you, if anything? Do I call and cuss out my brother for … for hurting you like I’m thinking he did? Do I hold you like I used to?” He takes a shuddering breath, shifting to look me in the eye better. “Am I even allowed to hold you anymore?”

“You can do whatever you want, Rowan,” I tell him numbly.

He frowns. He licks his lips and looks away. “Yeah, Oaks, I know. But what is it that you want? Do you want to talk about your dad? Do you want to lie here and cry in my arms? Or do you … do you want …”

“Or do I want Alec?” I finish for him when his words die off.

His gaze bounces between mine, and slowly, he nods. “Do you?”

Do I?

Does it make me sick if the first answer that hits me is yes?

“What I want is to go home now, Rowan. Take me home.”

“Is that a good idea? You shouldn’t be alone, especially now. And what if the threat is still out there?”

“I had a live-in babysitter, and someone still got in my house. Someone got to my dad, wherever the hell he was. I don’t think we could stop anything if we tried.”

His forehead pinches in remorse, and I sigh, reaching over to grab his hand.

“Row,” I whisper. “Thank you for trying. I know you want to make this easier on me, but I need to be alone for a little while. It still doesn’t seem real. I don’t think it’s hit me yet, and I want to be in my home when it does.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I know.” I offer a small smile. “But you will. Besides, you have class tomorrow. You need to get some sleep.”

His face scrunches as his head slightly draws back. “I can’t go to class while you’re—”

“Rowan, stop.” I pull myself up with the little strength I have left. “I’m serious. You’ve worked your ass off for this chance. I know you want to be here for me, and I appreciate that, but Blaze needs to come first right now. No matter what happens, I won’t let my dad’s program fail.” My voice grows quieter as sadness fights its way to the surface. “I need to make sure, if nothing else, the school isn’t affected. That’s something you can do for me. Stay focused and kick ass. And tell me if the stand-in instructors Hillock brings in ‘til I’m back suck,” I try to joke, but it falls flat.

He knows as well as I do that I don’t want anyone else running my training courses. Especially people I didn’t vet myself.

“Okay, Oaks,” he whispers. “Okay.” He nods, moving to stand without looking my way. “Let’s get you home, huh?”

We make our way to his truck, and after what feels like an eternity, he’s parking in front of my house.

He drops his hands from the steering wheel and says nothing, knowing I need a minute. I lay my head against the headrest, closing my eyes for a moment.

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