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I nod. “You knew her?”
“Old friend,” he says. “Very…old friend. We hadn’t spoken in many years before...”
Before he lent her the money that Chuck just tried to pay off with my fake virginity. I give Ghost a small smile, trying to reassure him I don’t have any blame in my heart for him. After all, it’s not his fault Mom was backed into a corner she couldn’t escape from.
“Thanks for helping her, too.” I nod, swallowing. My mouth is dry. And I’m still freezing. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, I, um. I’m sorry, I’ll go.”
“Where?” When I don’t answer, he says it again. “Where will you go?”
My lip quivers, and I bite it. I lift one shoulder, shake my head. “I don’t know…”
His hand wraps around the top of his car door like a vise, and I imagine the glistening black paint warping in his grip. I’m clearly broken, because I want him to be holding my hand that tightly.
No wonder he looks so upset—I’m being an absolute mess, and projecting it on him like he owes me anything. He already…
Well…what did he do? He killed Chuck. Chuck is dead.
Why does that feel the same as ‘he set me free’?
“I’ll figure it out,” I say. “You’ve done enough.”
“Lucinda.”
“Thanks again,” I say. I don’t want to go, but I don’t want him to see me cry until I pass out, either, and that part of the evening is rapidly approaching. “Sorry.”
“Lucinda, just.” He reaches for my arm but grabs my waist, pulling me back toward him, his eyes burning down into mine like a winter storm. “Stop apologizing.”
I swallow a squeak. “Sorry,” I say, then kick myself. “Sorry, I meant—or. Not sorry, I…I don’t, um.”
His mouth twitches, but he bites the inside of his cheek before a grin forms. A real one, not the scary one he had on earlier.
It’s…kinda beautiful.
He snaps his hand back like touching me hurts, and runs it down his face roughly. His eyebrows are ruffled, his mouth twisted like he’s in pain, his nose scrunched up with concentration.
I wait to see what he wanted.
“Get in the car.”
What?
“What?” I say.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come with me.”
It is, but I don’t wanna admit it… And I really didn’t think he wanted that, too.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” I say.
He raises a brow. “I just shot your father, and you’re worried about being trouble?”
I lick my lips and shrug again. “H-He wasn’t my dad like that.”
Ghost sighs through his nose and nods to the passenger seat. “Last chance, Lucinda,” he says, then sits behind the wheel, and closes the door.
I’m stunned still for maybe ten seconds before I nod and get in the low rider with him. He doesn’t say a word as he drives us backwards to the highway, hooking a tight U turn and speeding back into town.
“Mr. Ghost?” I say, after what feels like an eternity.
