God, if I could just talk to Jake, this wouldn’t feel so terrifying.
The urge to text his old number trembles my fingers, but an undelivered message would only twist the knife. Doesn’t matter if I can’t hear his voice. I know he’s thinking about me, and I trust in the love that tethers us. We’re strong enough to weather time and distance and everything else this forsaken world throws at us. I just need to be patient. He’ll contact me as soon as he’s able.
Until then, Dad is all I have, and I don’t know how to help him. He didn’t drink when we lived on the ranch. Didn’t use profanity or raise his hand against me. He worked all the time. Cattle ranching is what he knows. What did he think he’d do here?
Escape seemed to be the only thing on his mind.
Since he sold his shares of the ranch, he doesn’t need a job. But he needs something. A hobby, a passion, a thing to latch onto and distract him from drinking.
He needs to be my dad again.
Eight floors down, I rub away the tears and pull in a bracing breath. Then I step onto the crowded downtown street. Pedestrians breeze by me, and my shoulders hike against the ungodly clamor of traffic.
With the bag slung over my back and my eyes on my square toe boots, I make my way toward school.
It’s only my third day of eleventh grade, but I’ve managed to hide my pain. The girls chatter in my ear, and the boys gawk at me just like the ones in Oklahoma. They don’t care about me. They’re not my friends, and it’s just as well.
I’m set on leaving this city, not making a home here. If I have to stay until I graduate, I’ll cope. I’ll graduate with honors, pre-college credits, and scholarships to the university back home.
The next four blocks lead me to a taxi-congested intersection. As I turn right and separate from the flow of foot traffic, a group of high school guys veer onto my path.
They crowd the sidewalk, surrounding me on all sides. My pulse speeds up.
“Hey, country girl.” One of them steps in front of me, walking backward and leering at my legs above the boots.
“Excuse me,” I say politely and slide around him.
He grips my wrist, halting me, holding too tight. Fingers constrict like rope against my skin. Greedy eyes press against me. Voices rasp with masculine need. It’s crippling. Obliterating.
The sidewalk melts into dirt. Glass buildings blur and warp until all I see is the ravine with its shadows and its brutal men with sick desires. Memories unfurl from the cavernous gallows inside me. Hot breath. Bruising hands. Slithering across my skin, prying between my thighs, and stabbing into me.
“Let go.” My voice has no sound, but the shackle on my wrist releases.
The ravine bleeds away, and the noise of the city crashes in.
“You okay?” Blue eyes blink beneath furrowed brows. “You’re the new girl. It’s Conor, right?”
I stumble back on wobbly legs, bumping into pedestrians. For the first time since I’ve been in this city, I’m grateful for the overcrowded sidewalk. People dart to and fro in a hellfire hurry to move around one another, but someone would stop if I screamed.
The blue-eyed boy peruses my plaid t-shirt dress, slowing on the buttons between my breasts, lingering on the gathered cinch at my waist, and stopping at the hem above my knees. I burn to run, but I fight the impulse, because dammit, I’m not scared. I’m not.
“I’ve always wanted to take a ride in the country.” He bites down on the lower half of his smile. “Or maybe, take the country for a ride.”
His friends laugh.
My spine tingles. “I’m not interested.”
“I haven’t offered anything.” He returns to my eyes and winks. “Yet.”
He’s just a dumb boy. Cocky, flirty, but harmless.
Are you sure?
“I need to go.” I spin on my heel and stride away as my heart slams against the wall of my chest.
I expect them to chase, but they hang back, following at a distance only because we’re headed to the same place.
Maybe I overreacted. Or maybe they’ll think I’m a bitch and leave me alone. That works since I don’t have the right pieces inside me to make friends.
I’m not myself, and I don’t know how to find that girl again.
I’m not where I used to be or where I want to be.
I’m lost.
Hollow.
Alone.
I just need my home. My family. Jake.
928 miles.
Two years.
It’s not so far, even though it seems like it.
Will Lorne forgive me for not visiting? Will Jarret still love me? Will Jake wait for me?
Pulling out my phone, I cue up a Rascal Flatts song. Ear buds in, I shut out the world and let the chords of What Hurts The Most carry me forward.