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“Tristan…”
“No one is going to hire me in this town.No one.Don’t you get that?” I ask, turning on her. “I’m only applying to make my parole officer happy.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, staring at her shoes. “I was just trying to help.”
Is she? I hear the touch of bitterness in her voice.
“I don’t have a chance here, Iz. This town despises me. They tolerated me before because of my family, but they don’t have to now. Even my own parents want nothing to do with me.”
Images of Dad’s face when he finally bailed me out after my arrest flash through my head. My father was so angry he waited over a week before putting up bail, just to keep me locked up. I can still smell the stench of the cell, ofmyselfafter days of confinement. God, I was so scared. I thought it was the worst week of my life. A few months later, I learned what fear really was.
“You get why though, right?” she says evenly. “Why they don’t like you? You were awful to a lot of people, Tristan. And then you killed someone everyone loved in a terrible way. You’ve ruined a lot of lives.”
Her words slam into me, and I close my eyes. Does she honestly think I didn’t realize all of that? You’d think I’d be used to it by now, the blame, the hatred. Maybe I am, but hearing it from her… Like everyone else, she thinks I’m just a cocky brat who became a cocky killer. They don’t even see how much I’m hurting. How, even though nothing’s changed for them, everything’s changed for me.
This is what I wanted, right?
I start walking again.
“Tristan—”
I don’t even realize I’m shaking until I feel a hand on my arm. Recoiling, I twist toward the offender and collide with the wall.
Her expression shifts the longer she studies me. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but it can’t be good. How long is this constant fear going to follow me? When will I be able to turn my back without panic? Close my eyes without concern? Let down my guard for more than a few seconds? I’m so fucking exhausted from it all.
Humiliated, I push away from the building and start down the sidewalk again.
“Why did you do it?” she asks.
I freeze, the cold winter air penetrating deep into my pores.
“Why did you run after the accident?” she continues.
I can’t speak as I look back to find hazel eyes hot with accusation.
“Why didn’t you stay and try to help her? She might have survived! Why didn’t you take responsibility for what you did?”
“I…”
My heart races as the scripted story bubbles to my tongue. I’ve told it so many times. It’s instinct now, so why can’t I bring myself to recite it? The confusion in her eyes darkens into resentment the longer I hesitate.
“All you had to do was show an ounce of remorse and people would have shown an ounce of mercy in return. But you didn’t. You left her there to bleed out. You just left her there, Tristan. What kind of person does that?”
Her expression flashes with anger and frustration, but it’s the disgustthat hurts the most. I’m used to those looks, the scorn and hatred, but not from Iz. Not from the one person I’ve secretly clung to all these years to get through the darkest moments of my life. She didn’t know she was my guardian angel, but her face was a lifeline when I didn’t think I could survive another day, another fucking minute.
And now she’s looking at me like they do. Like I am what they say I am.
“I… It’s not…”
Kim’s plea last night rattles in my head. I could tell her the truth. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if she knew. Maybe I’d be able to breathe again.
I search Isabel’s wide, wounded eyes. She wants to believe in me. I see it now as clear as I did five years ago. A few words is all it would take to reel her in. She could be mine. She’d leave that asshole Pierce and… what? Tether herself to a guy who’s so hated he can’t even walk into a hardware store, let alone work there?
No. This is exactly why I pushed her away then and have to keep my distance even more now. If I care about her, I can’t let her care about me.
“I don’t have a good answer for you,” I say, walking again.
I feel Isabel’s fury as I saunter away.
“That’s it?” she calls back. “That’s all you have to say?”
I shrug and keep moving.
“This is why everyone hates you!” she cries after me. “Abe is right. You’re an arrogant, self-centered brat!”
Her words sting, but I don’t turn around. I can’t. She can’t know that I’m none of those things. She can’t know I’m too damaged to be anything.
