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I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The moment I saw Cassian get involved, I was sure I’d be trying to peel him off my dad—that he’d go berserk and punch my dad to death over this. Instead, he was showing he’d grown. At the least, he was showing he was willing to set aside his own desires and do what would make me happy.
“Dad. Just go, please. And don’t come back. When or if I’m ready, I’ll find you.”
He spat on the ground, then left.
Cassian stooped, putting his hand on my cheek softly. “You good?”
“Yeah, thanks. And… well, thanks for not trying to kill him.”
“I deserve a medal for that, by the way.”
I laughed. “For avoiding your homicidal tendencies? Hardly. But I appreciate it, either way.”
“If you want to train a dog, you’ve got to reward the behavior you want. Question is, how do you plan to reward me?”
I snorted, shaking my head. “You want me to treat you like a dog?”
Cassian flashed a smile and flicked his eyebrows up in a way that made my stomach feel like jelly. “If it means you’re interacting with me instead of dodging me? I’ll take it.”
“Then I’ll allow you to buy me a milkshake. But only as a peace offering. This doesn’t mean we’re back together, or something.”
“Agree to disagree.”
He was half jogging toward his car before I could say anything, so all I could do was follow after him, wishing I’d clarified that I wanted a shower first.35CassianTo change things up, we got milk shakes from a drive thru place on the other side of town from Dead Ringers. I parked my car in a popular—but currently unoccupied—spot beneath an old school wooden bridge. We were sitting on the dirt by picturesque, round rocks as water trickled over them and insects chirped somewhere off in the darkness.
Charli took a seat just outside arm’s reach from me, as if she was worried I planned to grab her and pull her in at any second.
“I should tell you something,” I said. My heart started pounding before I’d even started talking, because I knew what I was about to say.
Charli tilted her head toward me. “Okay.”
“The fire. I never told you the whole story. When I woke up and smelled smoke, I ran over right away. I was able to get in the front door fine, but once I was inside, the whole house felt like an oven. Everything in my body was telling me to get the hell out of there, but I yelled out your name. I heard voices upstairs, so I went. My dad was slumped against a wall, coughing and looking sleepy. He didn’t have any of his firefighter gear on—just a white undershirt and his boxers. It looked like he’d just stumbled out of bed and decided to take a nap in the hall or something. Except there was fire everywhere. It was seeping out from under the door down the hall and starting to creep along the ceiling. The house was melting down in little wet drips of shit that sizzled and lit the carpet on fire. It was a fucking nightmare.
“So I grabbed his arm and tried to lift him up, but he pushed me off. He told me to get you. Said you were in the other room. I fought with him for a few seconds, but he actually hit me. He slapped me across the face and told me if I was ever going to listen to him—listen now. He said to save you, or he’d never forgive me.”
I took a breath, I had to stop, because my throat was starting to feel thick and my eyes were prickling. I hadn’t talked about that conversation to anyone. I’d hardly let myself think about it and saying the words out loud was bringing back the images in a rush of unwelcome emotion. His face—already stained black by the smoke. His eyes—tired and exhausted. And worst, I could feel the helplessness of trying to get him to stand, of not being strong enough.
I wasn’t strong enough to save all of them, so I’d made sure I was always strong enough after that, hadn’t I? I was the strongest motherfucker I knew, and what good had that done me?
Charli had scooted closer and put her hand on mine. “It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
“No,” I said. “So I left my dad there. I found you passed out on the floor in your mom’s room. Everything was on fire. I don’t even know how I was still standing at that point because the smoke was so thick. But your mom’s window was open, which is probably why I managed. I put you over my shoulder and went downstairs. I looked back at my dad, and…” I scrunched up my face. I couldn’t manage to form the words. I had to swallow hard when I remembered what I’d seen—the way the fire had…
