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“Beer and a baseball game sounds like exactly what you need. Can’t believe how good the Twinkies are doing.”
Hopefully it’ll clear my mind enough to actually make the right decision about Lizzie.
Chapter Fifty-One
Lizzie
Ihoppedoutofthe car. Damon’s front door was open, the screen door letting the screams of a crowd roll out.
He was listening to baseball.
“Yes. Finally!” he yelled.
I sped up the steps to find him on the couch, four beer bottles on the coffee table in front of him. He was hunched over, elbows on his thighs, his head resting in his hands.
“Damon?” I opened the screen door and hustled in. “You okay?”
He stood and faced me. “Lizzie?”
He had a black eye, bruised chin, and a cut along his temple.
“You were holding your head, thought you had a headache.”
“I’m good. I didn’t hear you drive up.”
“Too busy yelling at the TV?” I wrapped my arms around his waist. “It’s so good to see you.”
I’d stood at my stupid door for almost thirty minutes busting through the anxiety trying to rob me of my freedom again. If he knew how much I went through to get here, he’d be happy, too.
He hugged me tight, tucking my head against his chest. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered. “LizBelle.”
I pushed up and kissed his neck, hugging him even tighter. Everything else melted away. There hadn’t been an attack. No fear. No night terrors. Just me and Damon. Like all those days in that damn hospital room, it was just me and him. Always just me and him.
“Let’s sit.” He released me and eased down.
I followed him, but instead of sitting beside him, I straddled him so I could still hug him tight. Everything was fine like this. Nothing else mattered.
Silently, he held me, caressing my spine for I didn’t know how long. Finally he asked, “Are you okay?”
I nodded into his neck. “Am now.”
“Lizzie, we’ve got to talk about what happened.”
“It’s over. No need—”
“It’s not over. LizBelle. We need to—”
“Don’t. Stop talking and hug me tighter.”
His arms loosened around me, and I knew he was going to do something stupid.
“I know what happened to you. Your parents.”
My stomach bottomed out, but I didn’t move. I refused to look at him.
“I stopped by your place twice after what happened. You were hysterical. I—Drey—he had to tell me to help me understand. I—I’m so sorry, Lizzie.”
“It’s done. It’s over.” I still refused to look at him. Instead, I buried my face in his neck even though he wasn’t hugging me anymore.
