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“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
He chuckled. “Anousually works.”
I scoffed, mentally shaking my head at him. It wasn’t often I was real with him, but I needed him to know. “Thank you.”
He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt another line of snark, but instead he closed it again, looking at me with one dark eyebrow raised in question.
“For you being here. Doing this. I—I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
I would. I fucking had. It didn’t matter that it was my job to keep him out of trouble. He was more than a fat paycheck. He was a friend, and not until now did I fully accept it went both ways. I treated him like shit most of the times, but it didn’t mean I didn’t care. I fucking loved the man like a brother. I just couldn’t show it the way people did. Especially after Julie…
Johnny never forced me to talk about it, but he knew. He saw. But instead of pushing me he kept silent, letting me take all the anger and frustration out on him.
I let out a raw breath, needing to get it off my chest. “I’m fucking sorry.”
The car swirled to the side as he stared at me, and I winced from the sudden jerk. “Goddamnit!”
“Then don’t do that,” he snapped. “What are you sorry for?”
I sighed, not sure I was ready to talk about it, but forced it out. “I was a dick.”
Johnny scoffed. “Was?”
“I’m fucking serious!” I snapped. “I mean it,” I added in a softer tone, and again he whipped his head around to stare.
“You sure you’remyMarc?” he asked and I chuckled with bittersweet regret. He was so used to me being an ass, he didn’t think there was more to me. Hell, sometimes I thought the same. For so long I locked away everything that made me feel anything but anger. I let it consume me. Shape me. It hardened me, made me who I am now, and I never looked back.
My recent brush with death and Kaylie’s presence cracked me open. Going back to numb anger was no longer possible, even though I wanted nothing more.
“I took it all out on you,” I confessed, and realization settled on his face.
“I don’t care,” he said, adding with a dry smile. “I fucking needed that.”
I scoffed. “You didn’t.”
He spoke after a long pressing silence. “I did. I do. Don’t you dare go fucking soft on me.”
“No chance.”
Johnny remained silent, and I turned my attention to the road flashing by to keep my mind off the girl I left behind. Every cell screamed at me to stop. To turn around and go back. The slowly increasing ache reminded me of why I couldn’t. If I did, I’d be dead too. Remaining in the goddamn state was bad enough. Stopping wasn’t an option, even though I desperately needed a break. Johnny knew it too, and pushed the car harder instead of slowing as I told him.
Hours crept by as in slow motion, every minute bringing me closer to a breaking point I refused to admit to.
I wanted to scream at him to stop, to turn around. My heart ached with the same intensity as the damned shoulder, but I refused to give in to any of it.
“Hey,” Johnny began, and I tore my eyes off the road to look at him.
“You know you can talk to me if… you know…” he left the sentence unfinished, and why was I surprised. I learned to fill in the gaps, and most of the times my guesses were correct.
“I know.” I once told him the same. No, I punched him in the face and shouted at him, telling him to trust me. That I was his friend. I almost laughed at the memory. I meant every word though. Just as he did now.
“I know you went through hell. After Julie… I…” he trailed off, shooting me sideway glances before adding in a low voice. “I wasn’t there.”
I let out a harsh sound. “I didn’t fucking let you. Or anyone.”
