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Howard stands beside Whitney, pulling her into his chest. “That’s a good idea,” he agrees. “It’s him or me. Take your pick, Raegan. You aren’t going alone.”

“Garrett can come with me.” He appears shocked by my decision. “Can we go now and get it over with?” I add. I’m trying to turn over a new leaf—or maybe the whole tree, I don’t know.

“That’s fine, we’ll be here.” Whitney squeezes my shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. “Ya’ll be safe.”

I climb into the passenger seat of Garrett’s truck. We had several memories that involved this truck or my own. I owe him an explanation. I’d love him forever if he didn’t run. It’s then I realize I do love him; I hate to admit it because it makes me feel weak, but it’s true. Everything about him from his cocky attitude to his sweet ways draws me to him and I wish I hadn’t pushed him away before.

“You okay?”

I nod yes, and that damn song starts playing. I want to cry, but I think if I started now I’m not sure I’d be able to stop. He reaches over to turn the volume down but I grab his hand to stop him without realizing our fingers lace together. Just like that first day in the apartment when we ordered pizza, our hands fit perfectly. His touch is just what I need.

I give him directions, and when we reach the house, I can’t help but fight tears again as the events of the previous night play in my head. Especially the part where James put me in handcuffs and escorted me to the back of the police car.

Never in my life would I have ever imagined I’d be in handcuffs—except maybe for pleasure. I’ve never tried that before, but I’d give it a shot with Garrett.

Christ Almighty, get your head out the gutter and focus on what you’re here for!

All my life, I never broke a law, not even got a speeding ticket. Now I’ve got an arrest on my record.

“You need me to come in with you? Howard doesn’t—”

“I need to do this Garrett.” I squeeze his hand gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses my knuckles before I got out the truck.

Anxious, I open the door and look around for any signs of Dad. Everything was the same as I remember from last night; the living room was spotless as if no one had sat there in a while. The kitchen counter was full of empty beer cans and bottles of whiskey. I couldn’t remember if those had been there last night.

When it seems like I’m in the clear, I head for my room, grabbing my pink duffle bag. I stuff it full of jeans, shorts, shirts, panties, and everything else I can possibly fit. The only thing I’m having difficulty finding are the keys to my truck. Thinking they might be in the kitchen, I throw the bag over my shoulder and cautiously make my way down the hall. Just as I’m beginning to think I should’ve let Garrett come inside with me, even though I haven’t told him what happened yet, I hear a voice that makes me want to shriek, hide, get out—anything but stand here in this house.

“What are you doing here? One night in jail wasn’t enough for you?” He’s already thrown out all the money I’ve earned; what else can he take from me? “Looking for these?” My keys are dangling from his fingers and he’s smirking.

“Dad, I’m going to stay with some friends of mine until you’re better. Can I please have my keys?”

“You mean my keys? It’s my truck.”

“Dad, you and Nancy bought me that truck. It was my graduation present. Please.” I hate begging with him because it’s pointless, but I need my truck.

“Get out of my house before I call the cops again.”

I scowl, holding my fists at my sides. I’m better than this shit he’s pulling. No, wait—I’m not. Suddenly a new Raegan appears, and it’s as though I’m just a witness to what’s happening, not really a part of it. I stalk outside and ignore the fact that Garrett can see me; I don’t give a fuck.

I grab my old aluminum baseball bat in the garage. Dad walks outside just in time to see me swing the bat at the windshield. The shatter is resounding, and I slam the bat in again, and again, and again. Glass flies everywhere and I don’t stop. I swing at the driver’s side window, but before the bat can connect, a hand grabs hold of me. Garrett.

“Raegan, stop. Let’s go. You’re better than this.” Shaking, I drop the bat, and it’s as though I’m slipping back into my body, my feet connecting with the earth. With his arm around my shoulder, we walk to his truck. As we pull away, I can see my father’s his beet red face in the side mirror. With my luck, I’ll end up back in jail and this time I’ll actually deserve to be there.

Silence pervades in the cab of the truck. I can only imagine what the hell Garrett is thinking right now. He’s probably driving me straight to the hospital so I can admit myself for being a lunatic. Who the hell smashes the windshield out their own vehicle? I know what I need to do. It’s what I planned on doing all along. Garrett deserves an explanation.

“Can we go somewhere we can talk?” My voice shatters the silence like the bat shattered the glass.

He grabs my hand. “Yeah, my apartment okay?”

I nodded my head before laying it against the window. My truck is gone. My money is gone. I have nothing.

Garrett leads me into his apartment and I sit on the same couch where I suffered my last breakdown with him. This couch and I were becoming really good friends. It was sort of therapeutic in a way. Garrett sits beside me, pulling my hand into his. This should be easy after what he’s seen, but I’m so worried about what he’ll think of me. I’ve never shared a single thing about me with him, and come to think about it, I know nothing about him. All I know is what Whitney told me about their parents. It breaks my heart. Our lips have met once, twice—who’s counting? Yet I’m so consumed with him, and terrified. It’s all or nothing.

“I haven’t been honest with you.” My voice is small, soft. “You’ve asked me what my deal was, you said you wanted to help me and I shoved you away. I’m so sorry.” I stop and regain my composure. I’m seconds away from breaking down. Tears beg to fall, but I won’t let them.

I begin by telling him about Dad and Nancy, and how she walked in that day and told me she was leaving. I left out everything about James, none of that matters right now. James is a distant memory I wish I could forget. Garrett can tell I’m struggling.

“Raegan, you don’t have to do this. It’s okay.”

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