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I study him out of the corner of my eye as he slides into the driver’s seat. He slams the door, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. I hate how furious he looks. The worry comes back at me tenfold, making me weak.

“Did you find him?” I finally ask when he still hasn’t said anything. “Where is he? Did you talk to him? Please tell me you didn’t talk to him.”

“I didn’t talk to him,” he mutters as he hits the button and starts the engine. Putting the car in reverse, he glances over his shoulder and backs out of the spot. “I didn’t find who you were looking for.”

“I should’ve gone in there with you.” I bite my lower lip, my mind racing with all the possibilities. “I could’ve found him.” Not that I wanted to, but shouldn’t we warn them? Warn his family and their friends?

A realization hits me, making me suck in a sharp breath. What if Greg is a friend? What if he’s…

Family.

“And what would you have done when you saw him, Jens? Screamed at him in the middle of my parents’ house? Called the cops on this guy?” Rhett shakes his head as he puts the car in drive and peels out of the driveway. “I can’t imagine you making a scene during Addie’s party,” he continues as he pulls onto the street, revving the engine so hard my head knocks against the back of the seat.

He remains quiet as he drives through his parents’ neighborhood, and all I can do is think. He’s right. I know he’s right. But I don’t like how he’s assuming things. It’s almost like he’s telling me what to do, or how to feel. He’s not very talkative either, and Rhett loves to talk.

I never want to talk. Saying too much means you reveal too much, and I’ve already given Rhett more than enough information about myself.

It’s like I can’t help myself, though. I want to know more. No, I need to know more. I don’t understand why he’s being so damn quiet.

“Did you see Addie?” I finally ask when I can’t take it anymore. “Greg wasn’t near her, was he?”

“Addie was with Trent. She’s fine,” he murmurs irritably, his gaze zeroed in on the road ahead of him. Which is a good thing, right? I want him to concentrate on his driving, not on me.

But I can’t take the silence, I can’t take the not knowing. The unknown is making me crazy and I squirm in my seat, tap my fingers on the center console. He sends me a look when my nails make a loud clicking sound and I snatch my hand away, clutching them together in my lap.

We remain silent, the tension building between us to nearly unbearable, and when I realize he’s driving me back to his place, I break.

“I want to go home.” Not that I have a home, since I’m referring to Savannah’s apartment. I gave my home up, like an idiot. What was I thinking, never going back to my little house, just leaving it abandoned and not telling my landlord? It’s almost like I do reckless, stupid things on purpose.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. I lie. “I don’t think we should spend the night together.”

“Why not?”

I flinch at the tone of his voice. I can’t even describe it. He just…he doesn’t sound like himself. “I don’t know. Maybe because you seem mad.”

“I’m not.” He says nothing else, and I almost want to laugh. He’s the liar at this particular moment.

He remains quiet and it’s driving me crazy. So crazy and I want to yell and scream and make a scene, just to get a reaction out of him. “Are you sure?” I finally ask when I can’t stand the silence any longer.

“I’m sure,” he says, he murmurs.

“Right.” I hesitate, then decide to go for it. “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say? How am I supposed to react, when you tell me that the guy who paid ten thousand dollars to spend the night with you, the same guy you claimed tried to rape you, just walked into my dad’s house? That this asshole is here to celebrate my baby sister’s birthday.” We come to a stop at a red light, and he turns to look at me with fire in his eyes. “Are you positive that was him?”

Hasn’t he already asked me this before? “I already told you it was. Do you not believe me?”

“I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. You keep talking about my seeing Greg walking into your parents’ house like maybe I’m mistaken or something.” I look away from him, staring out the passenger window once more. What I wouldn’t give to just burst out of this car and run away, never to see him again.

No. I don’t really mean that. I would miss him. Damn it, I caught feelings for him and I regret it. I so regret it.

“I just want to make sure.” His voice is gentle, not so full of anger like it was a minute ago, but I still won’t look at him. Too afraid of what I might see in his gaze. Like judgment. “What you’re saying is…huge. A life changer.”

“Why?” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “How is it a life changer that we just saw Greg?” I look at him now, and all I see is pain etched into his features. “You do know him, don’t you?”


Tags: Monica Murphy Damaged Hearts Romance