But for as much as I wanted to ignore his words, the reality was, my dad was right. Despite how fucking hard it was to admit it. Jermaine had been nothing more than a faceless name; an imaginary guy that couldn’t touch our relationship. A guy I hadn’t had to compete with.
But now he was real.
Now, I knew he had a wicked glint in his eye, an arrogant swagger, and a mean left hook.
And worst of all, I knew he wasn’t going anywhere fast. Not unless Mya knew some magical way of sending her ex on his merry fucking way.
Fuck.
I clenched my fist involuntarily; completely forgetting that my knuckles were split open. But pain was good. Pain numbed all the other thoughts festering inside my mind.
Soon enough, Dad turned off the road into our driveway. Without a word, I climbed out and made for the house. I didn’t want to listen to any more of his bullshit, and I certainly didn’t want to see the look of disappointment in Mom’s eyes.
“Asher, wait,” she called. “I should really look at your—”
“I’ve got it, Mom.” Digging my key out, I unlocked the door and hurried inside. I needed space. I needed to be alone. But the screech of tires had me glancing back.
Headlights illuminated the driveway and my mother shrieked. Bolting out of the house, I came slamming to a stop when my eyes landed on Jermaine. “Where is she?” he yelled, his eyes wild.
“You need to walk away, son.” Dad moved casually toward him, shielding Mom.
“She’s not here,” I added, inching closer to Jermaine who was acting like a caged animal.
“She didn’t leave with you?” He faltered, only for a second, and Dad dug out his cell phone, dialing nine-one-one. But before it connected, Jermaine pulled out a gun and aimed it straight at him. “You don’t wanna do that, old man,” he said.
Everything slowed down.
The thud of my pulse against my skull.
The beat of my heart in my chest.
Dad dropped his cell and lifted his hands.
Slowly.
Slowly.
Slowly.
“You don’t want to do this.” He sounded so calm, so composed. Like he’d been held at gunpoint a hundred times before.
“A- Andrew.” Mom’s cry pierced the silence and Jermaine swung his aim around. I dove in front of her, throwing up my hands too.
“Mya told me about you, you know?” I said, hoping to keep his thoughts on me and off the trigger. “She said you were best friends. Grew up together and everything.”
“She talked about me?”
“Yeah, man. You were her first everything, remember?”
“So why the fuck is she runnin’ from me?”
“I can’t answer that. But why don’t we call her?” I went to lower my hand, but he jabbed the gun toward me. “Whoa, easy.” My heart was in my throat. “I’m just going to call Mya and tell her you’re looking for her.”
I didn’t want this psycho anywhere near her, but I didn’t know what else to do.
He had a gun.
A loaded fucking gun aimed right at me. Maybe if I could call her or text her, I could warn her. I could get her to alert the authorities.