The crowd parts instantly, like I’m made of poison. Bones is glaring at me, but I don’t give a shit anymore. I need to scrub Ghost out of my life. Out of my memories.
I need to get out of here.
28. Blaze
Ghost
Fuck. I knew that fucking taser would eventually find its way to me. It was fated.
Fucking Luca. Doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I have to make sure Adora is okay.
I cough a couple of times, rip the barbs out, pull myself together, and rush after her. It’s only been seconds, but those seconds could matter.
“Dom.” Bones steps in front of me, pissed.
“Later,” I grunt through another cough, and keep walking. No time for him.
Outside, I scan for her. An engine turns over, and that’s my answer. I sprint as fast as I can, yank open the van’s passenger door, and jump in right as she’s pulling out. Of course Ria would leave her keys in the ignition, just like a crazy person.
She doesn’t look at me. Just lets out an enraged sound and smacks the wheel twice, with every bit of strength inside her.
I wait for the screaming, the cursing — anything. But it doesn’t happen. She drags in a furious breath and floors it. The prospects barely get the gates open before we shoot through, tires screeching.
Shit.
I’ll wait her out. Let her do whatever the fuck she needs. My only job is making sure she’s safe. I willnotcomment on her driving.
We ride in silence, the van flying down the empty road faster than it should.
Fuck. I need to explain the tracker. I need to make her understand. But she won’t hear me right now.
How the fuck didthatmake her snap? After everything else, I never would’ve guessed it’d be the tracker.
As we hit the bridge, I know where we’re going. Her breath hitches, but there’s no other reaction. She keeps her eyes forward, and the speed at world-record levels.
I lean back and let her lead.
I can’t pretend I’m not dreading going back to that place. I know she never returned. And I can see it now — it was a mistake giving her the cabin. I wanted her to have something of her own, to never depend on anyone again. But I didn’t think it through. My head was too fucked up. I should’ve just given her more money. Or bought her something else. Not put the corpse of our time together in her hands.
When she pulls up to the cabin, I’m still not ready. The grief slices through me so fast it steals my breath.
We sit in the dark for a few seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. A whole life with her flashes before my eyes, and I know I’m about to witness the end of it. And I can’t stop it. I can’t fucking stop it.
When she finally opens her door, I open mine too.
She walks slowly, her steps as small as she can make them. When she stops, her eyes are fixed on the front door. I fall into place beside her, my feet dragging. Waiting —wishing— for her to say something. Do something. But she doesn’t. Not for a long time. She just watches the home we used to have — a place thatlooks so much like a tomb right now, it might as well swallow us whole.
I wish I could at least hold her fucking hand through this, but I know she wouldn’t want that. So I let the minutes pass. Me watching her. Her watching our home.
“I was happy here, in your lie,” she finally whispers, voice cracking. “I wish it would just disappear.” Her lower lip trembles. I can hear the unshed tears in her voice. “I don’t know why I drove here. I can’t do anything about it.”
Her words cut into me, but I say nothing. I just turn and walk to the back of the van.
Tank used to complain about Ria always driving on red, so he made sure she always had a full canister of gas available, just in case. I pull it out, take a deep breath, and head for the front door.
“What are you doing?” Adora asks, surprise threading her voice.
I glance over my shoulder and shrug, trying to look like I’m not breaking apart on the inside. “I’ll make this place disappear for you, adorable.”
