I do as he suggests, raising the seat so I’m sitting upright like a normal person. My throat is dry—it’s like I can’t stop trying to clear it—so I reach for the bottle of water and crack it open, taking a long swallow. My head feels so heavy, it hurts. And I still can’t figure out how I got into this car.
A weird thought enters my brain and lingers. What if Rhett—did something to me while I was out?
No. He would never do that. Ever.
“Thank you for the water. And for rescuing me,” I finally say, hating how my voice cracks.
He shoots me a quick look, his gaze full of concern. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” I shrug, then wince. “My head hurts.”
“You almost cracked it on the sidewalk.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you fainted, but I caught you before you hit the ground.”
“I don’t remember doing that,” I whisper.
“That’s because you were out before I caught you.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say or how to explain myself. Instead, I take another sip of water and stare out the passenger-side window.
“Have you been sick? Maybe that’s why you fainted?” Rhett asks. I hear the concern in his voice, and I want to tell him I don’t deserve it.
“I’ve fainted before.” My father told me my mother used to faint sometimes too. Maybe it runs in the family. “Usually I faint because I’m tired or hungry. Or stressed.” Yeah definitely stressed.
“Maybe you fainted because you’re worried about your grandma.”
I close my eyes and press my forehead against the window, the cold glass relieving my heated embarrassment. I’m so tired of the lies. Tired of pretending. “My grandma’s fine,” I croak.
“What?” He sounds incredulous.
Sitting up, I turn to look at him. “I don’t even think I have a grandma. Not one that I know, at least.”
“Wait a minute.” He shakes his head. “Are you telling me you made that all up?”
“Yeah.” I turn my head so I don’t have to look at him when I say, “I did.”
He swings the car to the right so suddenly, my shoulder rams into the door, and I yelp in pain. We’re in an empty parking lot and he pulls the car into a slot, throwing it into park before he turns and faces me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I made it up. My grandma being sick. There’s no grandma in my life.” There’s no one in my life. Period.
“You lied to me, then.” The disgust in his voice is obvious. Of course he’s disgusted. I’m not who I say I am. I’m using him. I’m a whore who fucked him on Friday night and almost let another man fuck me again on Saturday. I don’t deserve his kindness, or his help.
Lifting my chin, I keep my gaze on his. “I did.”
Rhett blows out a harsh breath and looks away, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Where were you planning on going anyway?”
“Back home.”
“Where’s home?”
I keep my gaze averted. “I don’t want to tell you.”
He punches the steering wheel, making me flinch and cower away from him, and the pure misery that crosses his face as he studies me almost makes me feel bad for reacting that way.
But not really. His violent outburst is a good reminder that they’re all the same. Even the so-called good ones.