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I straighten my back, and, without another word, I turn and walk into my room. My emotions are shot and I’m confused. I’m so god damned confused. I don’t know if I’m angry at my father, or Jagger, or both, or just myself for feeling anything at all. I never thought I’d see him again, but now the reality is that I might, and it might be the last time.
For real.
I don’t even know how I feel about home anymore. I dread the idea that I might look over my shoulder for the rest of my life if this all goes wrong. I don’t know what is happening between Jagger and me, but the reality is that now he has my father, he has no use for me. Does that mean he’ll let me go? Does he want me to stay? Does he want me to go?
I don’t know.
The not knowing confuses me.
I’m in the middle of pondering how the next stage of my life will go when I hear the voices outside. He’s here, my dad, the man I thought was dead, is here. I take a deep breath and decide I want to see him, I want to confront him, I want to know why he decided to leave us in danger. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I step out the door and there he is, cuffed and sitting on the couch surrounded by the guys.
He turns his head slowly, his eyes fixating on me, and I feel a sob rise in my throat. I make a strangled sound and press a hand to my chest, the emotions swarming inside of me too much to handle. My father looks the same, with his reddish brown hair and light blue eyes. We share similar features, the same full lips and skin tone. His eyes stay on mine and what I’m seeing terrifies me. He looks dead, emotionless, broken.
“Dad?”
“They didn’t hurt you, I’m glad.”
His voice comes out monotone, void of any feeling.
That’s it? After all these years, that’s all I get.
“That’s it?” I whisper. “You let me believe you’re dead and that’s all you can say?”
He looks away. “Sorry.”
“Dad,” I croak, a soul-crushing feeling consuming me. “It’s me. It’s Willow.”
“I know who you are,” he grinds out. “You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here.”
“Dad ...”
“Can someone please get her out of here?”
“Jagger?” I say, looking to him.
Jagger’s face is tight. “You heard him, Willow. You need to leave.”
Pain, a pressure-filled pain, crushes my chest. I turn when Ace steps toward me, jerking my hand out to stop him. I don’t need him to drag me out of here. I can take myself. I can take myself out of this god damned house and away from all of them. I spin around and rush away. When I get into my room, I begin grabbing the few things I have with me and shoving them into an old plastic bag. Jagger comes in behind me, and his eyes fall on my bags.
“What’re you doing?”
“You have him,” I mutter, trying to fight back the emotion threatening to consume me. “A promise is a promise, Jagger.”
He stares at me, his blue eyes intense. “I guess it is.”
“Well then, I’m free to go, right?”
He looks away, his face hardening. “Right.”
“And the other gang, am I safe?”
“I have what they want, they have no reason to go anywhere near you now. They will come after me. I don’t think you’re in danger. Angel said they know we have your father.”
“So, that’s it?”
He shrugs, his face stony hard. “That’s it. It’s all over for you.”
“And ... us?”
“You and I are both clear that there is no us.”
His voice is hard, but something in his eyes ... No. I can’t analyze this. He doesn’t want me here—if he did, he would say it. He would. Wouldn’t he?
“You’re clear on that,” I growl. “You didn’t ask me.”
“You just asked me to leave. You’re packing up to fucking leave. If you have somethin’ to say, Willow, say it now because I don’t play fuckin’ mind games.”
Oh, he wants to be mad? I don’t think so.
“What do you want, Jagger?” I snap, sick of the back and forth.
“Nothin’, I want fuckin’ nothin’. Just fuckin’ leave.”
He turns and walks out, and I stand, watching him go. I know I should speak up, but what can I possibly say? I want to stay? No, I don’t want to stay but I don’t want to walk away from him either. I’m so fucking confused it hurts. For my own sanity, I have to leave and take the time to clear my head. I pick up my few things, and then I walk out of the room and down the stairs. I don’t see my father again, they’ve taken him into the basement.
Taking a deep breath, I exit the house and walk to the truck that I know is Jagger’s because I’ve seen him arrive in it before. I slide into the passenger seat, a heavy weight in my heart, the feeling that I’ll never be okay again when I drive out of this house so intense I don’t think I can handle it a second longer. Jagger appears a moment later, getting into the driver’s seat.
