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Without another word, Holden gets out to walk her to the door, and I close my eyes, wait for his return. As soon as he’s behind the wheel again, he says, “You can move to the front now.”
I’d rather not. “I’m good.”
He taps his forehead on the steering wheel twice, as if frustrated he has to deal with my petulant ass, and then turns the car around. Once we’re on the main road again, I ask, “Can you take me back to the party?”
I catch his eyes through the rearview mirror, watch them widen slightly. Jaw set, he snaps, “What the fuck for?”
Heart in my throat, my voice barely audible, I murmur, “I left my pendant there.”
“What?” He’s so snide, and he has no right to be. I didn’taskhim to fucking break down doors or go punching people like a jacked-up Hulk on steroids. I’ve already dealt with one of those in my life. I don’t need another.
“My pendant,” I say, louder, clearer. I sit taller. “I left my pendant in the bedroom, and I need to go back and get it because I can’t…”I can’t exist without it,and now I have to learn to exist withhim. “I just need it. Please, Holden. I’ll never ask anything of you ever again.”
He doesn’t speak, but he nods, and ten minutes later, we’re driving past the old paper mill. He parks at the same spot we left and says, “Wait here.”
It feels like an eternity before he returns, handing me my phone first. I didn’t even know I was missing it. “Maggie’s called a few times,” he tells me, getting behind the wheel again. “I already let her know you were safe.”
I was nevernotsafe…
My pulse jumps out of my chest when he hands me the pendant, and I hold it tight in my grasp, bring it to my heart, let it bring life back into my soul. My eyes drift shut while tears coat my lashes, and believe me, I realize how pathetic it is to feel so much about a physical object or rely so heavily on it to keep me somewhat sane. “Thank you.” I choke on the words, and I don’t open my eyes or loosen my grip on the metal as we move again. Only moments later, my shoulder hits the door, and my eyes snap open when Holden makes a sharp turn. But he’s not turning onto the road; he’s speeding behind the paper mill. My neck twists as I look around us, and I lurch forward when the car comes to an abrupt stop, almost hitting my head on the back of the front seat. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
He gets out of the car, slamming doors and kicking rocks. Then tires. And when he joins me in the back seat, his eyes lit with rage, I push my back into the interior, trying to stay as far away from him as possible.
“How drunk are you?” he accuses, his words echoing through the stillness around us. He’s parked in the perfect spot—still hidden from the main road and far enough from the houses that no one would see us unless they drove by slowly.
“I’m not drunk,” I reply.I’m just… self-destructive.
“Did he take advantage of you?”
“No!”
Holden’s too big for such little spaces, and his legs are bent in awkward angles, his chest alone taking up half the width of the back seat, but when his head falls into his hands, the heels of his palms rubbing at his eyes, he looksso, sosmall. “I need to know what happened in there,” he says, tone flat, not looking at me.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Do you want me to tell you that we fucked?”
“No,” he’s quick to answer, eyes on mine now. “I want you to tell me thefuckingtruth, Jamie!”
His eyes drop to my hand when I grip the pendant tighter. Pulse racing, I give him what he wants. “He was going to take me home, but he said he needed something from the bedroom, and so I followed him in there…”
He drops his head in his hands again, his fingers curling, gripping at his hair. “And then what?”
“He told me I wasn’t what he expected. That he found it odd that I wouldn’t even let him kiss me, especially after what you told him… that you warned him—”
“I know what I said,” he cuts in.
His words sink directly into me, like a sudden punch to the gut. I fail at keeping my voice even when I ask, “So, youdidsay it?”
Holden stares at me a moment, then nods once.
“I figured you did.” I glance to the side, shifting the tears caused by my anger. And then I laugh because there’s nothing else Icando. “That’s why I told him I may as well give you a reason to believe I’ve been whoreing around for the past five years. Which, by the way, is real rich coming fromyou. How many girls—”
“I’m not the one who walked away from us, Jamie!” he shouts, his fists balled. He glances at me quickly before focusing on the back of the seat in front of him. Shaking his head, his voice breaks when he says, “You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Then he laughs once, a sad, sad sound that almost breaks my resolve. “Tell me what the fuck happened. You owe me this much.”
I watch him a moment, before answering, “He went to use the bathroom, and he didn’t bother doing up his fly when he came back. We both knew what we wanted… I was already on the bed, and so he got on top of me, between my legs, and started to pull down the top of my dress…”
The veins in Holden’s neck pop, but he refuses to look at me. “And then what?”
“And then you walked in.”
