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I sat back in my seat, my bloody fingers shaking, my heart racing, my thoughts everywhere. Did Harlan get abusive with Mom too? She would never take it after living with my dad all those years. He’d taught us to be strong, but … maybe when she was in that position, she’d be twice as nervous as I had been.
Deciding to hide the blood from Jace, I wiped my palm across my jeans. “Jace,” I whispered, staring out the windshield as we zoomed past trees.
Jace didn’t say anything for the longest time. He clenched and unclenched his hand on the steering wheel and shook his head. “I fucking told your mom not to marry that fucking asshole, and she still fucking did. Do you see why I wanted you gone?”
“Jace, it’s worse than you let on,” I whispered, glancing over at Jace for the first time tonight. His lip was busted open, his eye black, blood dripping down his neck. “Jace, you can’t let him continue to abuse you like this. He-he can’t.”
It broke my heart to see Jace like this.
“You don’t think I’ve tried calling the fucking police on him? Hitting him back? It either ends with him threatening to shoot me fucking dead, the cops not fucking believing shit because he’s paid them off, or me in juvie. And I can’t have any of those things happening now that we’re better.”
Silence fell upon us again, and I didn’t know what to say to him. He’d tried to get out of this before, time and time again, yet nobody believed him. And if they did … Harlan paid them off. Apparently, people in this town liked money more than they liked putting murderers and abusers behind bars. Another reason to get out of here as soon as I could.
We pulled up to a run-down house in the bad part of town. The siding was chipping, and some of the windows were cracked. The entire place reeked of pot and bad decisions. Definitely not a place I wanted to be after what had happened.
“Get out,” he said to me.
I fumbled with my seat belt and followed after him as he walked to the back door and banged on it three times with the side of his fist.
Landon answered, a cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. “What?”
Jace pulled out a wad of cash and slapped about five hundred-dollar bills in his hand. “Watch Allie.”
Landon glanced over at me, lit the cigarette, and took a puff on it. “Looks like you need a smoke,” he said, handing it to Jace.
Jace started toward his car. “Don’t let anyone fucking touch her. I’ll be back.”
My eyes widened, and I followed Jace back to his Maserati. “You’re leaving me with them?” I asked, grasping his wrist and tugging him back.
Jace snatched his hand out of my grip and turned toward me. Under the moonlight, I could see just how bad his bruises were, and my heart ached for him.
“Please,” I whispered. “Don’t go back.”
“Get in the fucking house,” he said.
I gently grasped his hand. “Please, let me at least clean you up.”
When my fingers touched his, he tensed, but his eyes softened so much that I thought he was going to let me. But then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled away from me.
“Later. I’ll be back for you.” He slid into his car, threw it in reverse, and sped back in the direction we had come.
I stared at his car until his taillights disappeared from my view.
Landon flicked his cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out with the heel of his boot. “You coming?”
I walked into the house, my palms clammy at the mere thought of Jace going back to that tonight. Part of me was terrified that I’d get back to the house and find him in a pool of his own blood with a bullet straight through his head.
