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He exhales loudly and lets go of my hair. “That a girl.”
I try to stand then. I intend to run and keep running. Maybe I’ll never come back. He holds me down. “Are you going to lie to me again?”
“No,” I promise. But even I don’t believe myself.
I feel the cold, sharp edge rest against my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut. I feel warm liquid running down my back.
“Jesus, Josie. Look at you—” he says, mockingly. “Always adding more work for me.”
My eyes burn, my throat is raw. I feel nothing.
He raises the scalpel to my face at eye level. “Tell me—” he scoffs. “What am I supposed to do with something I can’t fix?”
Chapter Sixteen
Izzy
I don’t ask, but the next night after work Grant Dunn is there in the parking lot waiting to drive me home. I watch him under the soft glow of the street lamps. He looks tired. “You don’t have to do this,” I say, leaning against the passenger door, thinking it shouldn’t be this easy. “I can take the bus.”
“It’s cold out.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “You’re the one out here with your windows down.”
“I like the cold. But you. Well, you don’t even have a proper jacket.” I glance down at my outfit. The one I copied from @fashionistaforver777. It arrived yesterday, and I wore it today. Just in case. He’s right. A cool front blew in this afternoon, and I hadn’t factored that in. I hadn’t thought to bring a jacket.
“This is Texas. Not Alaska. I’ll survive.”
He holds his hands up as though I need to say no more. “I was on my way home from rounds. It’s no biggie.”
He shifts his gaze and stares straight ahead for a moment before looking over at me once again. Then he raises his brow. “Plus, if something were to happen, how else am I supposed to get an Americano in this town?”
I laugh and let his dark sense of humor fill my soul.
“Come on,” he ushers me. “It shouldn’t be this hard to give a lady a ride. Get in.”
I do as he says. Then I thank him and tell him I appreciate how considerate he is.
“Like I said. It’s nothing.”
This must be how his wife feels. Cared for. Grateful.
I buckle my seatbelt. He turns to me and hands me his phone. When I glance down I see that he has his contacts pulled up. My name is typed in. I look up at him. His expression is unreadable. I take a deep breath. I tell myself to play it cool. Still, I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I know I’m busted. I curse myself for being as transparent as they come. I will myself to calm down, to relax, but it’s not as easy as it seems.
It feels amazing—on another level— to see my name on Grant Dunn’s phone. I have to admit, something shifted when he reached for my hand. I was disappointed. I thought he and his wife were happy.
Don’t get me wrong—it wasn’t that a small part of me didn’t want it to happen. I did. What I don’t understand, and what I am determined to find out, is why. Why would he go and mess up a good thing?
Surely, he wouldn’t hurt Josie that way. I feel so conflicted. It’s like my heart and my mind are duking it out. All day they’ve played tug-o-war with each other to see which one will come out victorious. Now, we’re down to the final round.
I frown at the thought of either winning, and he takes notice. I’m an open book.
“What’s wrong?”
I didn’t think you were the type to be unfaithful. “Do you think true love exists?”
He glances at me furtively, and I can see that he’s not thrown off by my question. He’s giving it careful consideration. “Well,” he answers finally, eyes straight ahead. “I think that depends on one’s definition of true love.”
Maybe Tyler is right. Maybe it doesn’t exist. I don’t say anything.
