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I always kne
w getting out of the Heights was nothing more than a dream. This—the Heights, this stinking rotten trailer... Warren—it’s my destiny.
And there’s no escaping destiny.
No matter how hard you try.
“Kennedy?” Warren’s dad, Mitch, squints at me through bloodshot eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you here again.”
He drags his body over to the breakfast counter and uncaps the bottle of whiskey on the side, taking a long pull.
Just the sight of him standing there in his dirty wife beater and baggy pants makes me want to vomit.
“Seriously, old man.” Warren appears and ropes an arm around my neck, pulling me back to him. “Where’d you go?” He nips my neck, sending a shudder through me.
“I needed coffee.” I motion to the coffee pot.
“Make me one, yeah?” Warren slaps my ass before padding over to the threadbare couch. “You should try one, Mitch. Fuck knows, you might like it.”
“Quit bitchin’. There’s nothing wrong with a little pick-me-up before breakfast.”
“Speaking of breakfast,” Warren adds, “be a good girl and run to the store for us? There’s some cash in my wallet. Actually,” a dark expression washes over him, “I’ll drive you.”
The seed of hope withers and dies in my chest. For a second, I thought Warren might let me go alone. But I see the possession in his eyes as he stands and grabs his keys.
“Get me a bottle,” Mitch says.
“Get your own bottle, old man.” Warren holds out his hand to me. I drain my coffee and slide my palm against his. His touch is all wrong, but I swallow down the painful memories.
Warren is a predator. If you show even an ounce of fear, he’ll pounce.
The second we step out of the trailer, I inhale a deep breath, relishing the cool air. Inside the trailer it’s like a cesspit, but out here it’s fresh and clean, even if there’s a permanent hint of weed in the air.
“In you go.” Warren yanks open the door and waits for me to climb inside.
He’s relaxed, too damn relaxed. His composure unnerves me. I know Warren well enough to know he’s stewing, biding his time until he punishes me for leaving him.
“What are you in the mood for?” he asks, grabbing my hand and keeping it in his as he backs out of the small parking spot beside the trailer.
“I don’t mind. Whatever you want.”
His eyes glitter with approval. Warren likes it when I put him first. He needs the validation, the power.
“I’m in the mood for pancakes and bacon. Maybe some French toast.”
“Whatever you want,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.
“I’m so happy you’re back where you belong, baby. You had me so worried.”
My spine stiffens at his words. This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
The moment he unleashes his fury at me.
The air crackles. My heart beats wildly in my chest and I hold my breath, waiting...
But nothing comes.
Instead, Warren lets out a shaky breath. “You really fucking scared me, Ken.” He finds a parking spot and cuts the engine. “When I woke up and you were... gone, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t mean it, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you just made me so fucking angry.” His body vibrates as he white knuckles the steering wheel. I don’t move.
