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“I trust you,” he whispers. “I do trust you, dammit.”
“Okay.” That’s good, but it does nothing to allay my concern. “Come on, then.”
He lets his hands drop to his sides. “What about Candy?”
“I’ll find a way. I’ll crawl and fucking beg if I have to. I promise.”
***
I leave Jet in bed, curled up on his side, an arm thrown over his face, and wander into the kitchen to pour myself some water.
At least I managed to get some painkillers down his throat. Of course he didn’t eat all day. He forgets to eat if I’m not around to remind him.
Or Candy. Apparently Candy also made him eat. She made him smile.
I breathe out, rub the back of my neck. She makes me smile, too. She makes me hard, and makes me happy. That feeling when I’m with her and Jet? Yeah, I figured it out in the end.
I feel accepted. At peace. In the right place in my life.
How can I find her? A search on her social media hasn’t given me any clues. I also found out we’re friends on Facebook—have been, for the past year. I don’t fucking remember how that happened.
One more question that needs to be answered.
It’s pretty warm inside the apartment, and I’m lounging around in my black briefs with a tension headache of my own.
How did I fuck this up so thoroughly before it really began?
Tomorrow. I’ll fix things tomorrow. Can’t think clearly right now. I think I’ll hit those painkillers myself and hope that come morning I’ll have an answer and a solution.
Before I make my way to the bathroom to find the pills, the doorbell rings. Knowing how light Jet’s sleep is, I curse under my breath as I run to get the door, my bare feet skidding on the floor. The bell rings again, and I groan.
I throw the door open, not even bothering to check through the peephole to see who it is.
“What do you want?” I snarl.
Candy is standing there, a flush splashed over her cheeks, her hair caught back in a ponytail, her wire-frame glasses in place. I can’t stop staring at her, my heart hammering.
She clears her throat. “Donna said Jet was sick, and she sent him home. Can I see him? Is he okay?”
Speechless, hope clawing through my chest, I open the door wider and step aside to let her in.
Chapter Twenty Fo
ur
JETHRO
Everyone leaves. Only the bloodied memories and the nightmares remain.
He’s not coming back, I tell myself. He’s gone. My dad is gone. The violence is gone.
But bad things always come back.
There are voices nearby, familiar voices, meshing with the noise in my dreams.
“We need to talk,” Joel says.
“You can start.” Candy. Candy is here. “You can tell me why you lied about not being with Ellen.”
