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My heart had never hurt this badly before.
My soul shattered. It felt as if my heart were dripping blood as it slowly sank to my stomach. The butterflies in my body died, giving way to maggots that felt as if they were eating me from the inside out. It was the only way I had to explain the pain no one could see. It was the only way I knew how to explain how much Clint had just hurt me.
Maybe he didn’t mean it?
It was my only hope. Maybe it was just a show he put on for his father. But that didn’t make sense. His father had already been knocked unconscious. Was it possible the show was for Cecilia? Maybe she secretly didn’t like me, or something like that. Or maybe, he meant it now but wouldn't mean it tomorrow.
Yeah, he’ll call. Once tensions settle and he gets some rest.
“He’s just got a lot on his plate right now. Give him some time.”
Michael’s voice pierced my thoughts, but I had nothing to say.
“You know he cares ab
out you. I certainly know he cares about you. Just give him some space. A lot has happened in a short span of time to him.”
I nodded aimlessly. “Yeah.”
“He’s probably just overwhelmed, and he’ll call you tomorrow once he feels better.”
“Maybe so.”
“And besides, if we really want to be real for a second?”
I sighed. “Don’t.”
“We all know Clint can be sort of an ass sometimes. That’s just kind of how he is.”
I closed my eyes. “This was different, and you know it.”
Michael didn’t respond, which furthered the dread in my gut. He’d always been the voice of reason. The person that worked gracefully under pressure. Part of me was hoping he’d go against what I said. Tell me that this wasn’t any different. That Clint was simply, well, being Clint. But when he didn’t argue, I wanted the world to open up below me.
Taking me, and Clint’s father, along for the ride.
We weaved slowly through the neighborhood as the sounds of sirens wailed in the distance. I whipped my head around, trying to figure out where they were headed. Had someone called 9-1-1? Was Clint all right? Who called? Did Michael call?
I looked over at him and he held up his hands.
“Don’t look at me. My guess is his stepmother called.”
Cecilia. “That makes sense.”
I settled heavily into the seat as we turned down my street. I closed my eyes, feeling Michael’s SUV park itself in my driveway. I didn’t want to get out. I wanted to go back to Clint’s place and force myself into his orbit. Force him to tolerate me until he came to his senses.
Michael’s voice broke through my thoughts. And I wanted him to shut the hell up.
“Look, I know this time is different. But I want you to know I’m here for you. Me and Allison. You’re not alone, even if you might feel like it right now.”
I sighed. “I appreciate it.”
“And if you need anything at all, we’re only a phone call away. Anything. I mean that.”
“Can you get Clint back for me?”
He paused. “Well, anything but that.”
I snickered and opened my eyes before a groan fell from my lips. Fucking D.J.’s bullshit, rundown car was sitting in the middle of the damn driveway. Just my luck. Just what I fucking needed after this hellish night. I shook my head as I unbuckled my seatbelt. I couldn't unlock the door, though. I couldn't bring myself to open it and get out.
