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Finally, he did.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I expected the phone to ring—even in the wee hours of the morning—but it didn’t. It was almost two a.m. by the time I escaped my stepfather’s wrath and made it to my room, and still the phone didn’t ring. I took off Aimee’s shoes and Dale’s jacket, slipping out of my jeans and getting into bed wearing the Black Diamond t-shirt, thoughts racing, my heart cracked wide open. He wasn’t going to call me, not tonight, not ever again. I was sure of it. And I couldn’t blame him after what happened.
I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was coming up, my eyes red and swollen from crying. I didn’t know what time it was when my mother knocked, opening my bedroom door, and I lifted my head slowly, sure I was still dreaming.
“Sara, you have a visitor. It’s a young man.” She lowered her voice. “Your father isn’t here.”
I blinked at her in surprise. “What? Where is he?”
“He’s at work. He had deliveries.” She glanced over her shoulder. “They added a new route on Sundays. He’s getting paid overtime. Should I ask your friend in?”
She looked like she didn’t know what to do. Of course, my stepfather had made the rule that “boys” weren’t allowed, ever. Not in the apartment. Definitely not in my room.
“Yes!” I moved faster than I thought possible, grabbing my jeans and pulling them on, running my fingers through my hair. I reached past her, opening the door wider, seeing Dale standing near the front door.
“Sara!” The look of relief in his eyes was palpable. I felt it all the way down the hall. My mother shrank back as he strode past her into my room, putting his arms around me.
I waved her away, seeing her eyes widen as I shut the door, but I knew she wouldn’t do or say anything about it. We had an unspoken pact—what my stepfather didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt either of us.
“Are you okay?” He grabbed my upper arms, searching my face first, his gaze dipping lower, like he was looking to make sure nothing was bleeding or broken.
“I’m fine,” I croaked. My voice was still hoarse from sleep—and all the crying. Oh God. I knew I must look awful.
“What the hell?” He walked over to my bed, sitting and putting his head in his hands like he felt dizzy. “I couldn’t sleep all fucking night. I didn’t want to call because I didn’t want to get you into any more trouble… but that…”
He lifted his head, eyes dark, angry. “Was that your stepfather?”
I crossed my arms, nodding miserably. “I’m not allowed to date.”
“What?” He looked at me, incredulous. “Are you kidding me?”
“I wish.” I sank down into my desk chair with a sigh.
Dale sat up, glancing at the closed door and then back at me. “So if he finds me here?”
“Yeah.” I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
He dropped his head for a moment, jaw working, teeth clenched, lost in thought. His hands fists on his thighs.
Then he looked at me, eyes as dark as summer storm clouds. “You need to get the hell out of here.”
“Tell me about it.”
“No, I mean now.” He stood, decisive, looking around my room for the first time. “Find a bag. Pack it.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“I can’t let you stay here.” He grabbed a backpack off my floor, opening it and looking inside, emptying it of books and opening one of my drawers, pulling out t-shirts and starting to throw them in.
“Stop!” I grabbed the backpack, yanking it out of his hands. “Dale, no. I’m not going anywhere. I have to finish school. Where am I going to go?”
“Upstairs. With me.”
I smiled. “With you and your father?”
“I have a big bed.”
