She didn’t give Orion a chance to reply, to argue, because she turned around, unpaused the TV, and started watching again like she hadn’t just torn open a wound Orion was pretending wasn’t still bleeding.
“You’re ready,” Maddox declared when they pulled up in her parking lot. He had been teaching her how to drive for over a month now. Sometimes they didn’t speak at all, beyond comments and corrections on Orion’s driving. Granted, there were few of those. There was no mention about the movie “date,” or the dinners, or the possibility of a future together. He didn’t treat her differently. Didn’t try to push her.
She’d taken to driving quickly. Not because she wasn’t afraid of it, because she was. A thin sheen of sweat pooled under her arms before Maddox even arrived for the lessons. Half of that was due to Maddox himself, of course, but it was also the mere act of going outside. Being on the road. Being in control of her life, Maddox’s life, and that of every car she passed.
If she wished, she could swerve into traffic. She could ruin cars, lives, so very simply. Everyone’s lives were really just one deranged person away from complete devastation.
She didn’t do that, of course.
It was a cruel and ugly need to ruin innocent people’s lives. But that was the difference between her and those Things—she didn’t hurt people who didn’t deserve it.
As it was, she wasn’t hurting anyone who did deserve it. She was lagging behind. Getting distracted by April’s presence at her house. Decorating. Online shopping. Reading.
Driving with Maddox.
Two days a week, for an hour. Sometimes longer if he could gently push her into getting a meal with him. Sometimes she was braver. Or her willpower crumbled, and she broke all the promises she’d made to herself about him. That’s what led to more dinners, more time together, and the movie where he dared hold her hand, and she dared hold it back.
She looked forward to those hours. The lessons. And she dreaded it at the same time. She hated how easy Maddox was to like. How patient he was with her, even when she was a downright bitch. It all rolled off his back as if there were nothing he wouldn’t forgive her for. He was an avid listener, never stepping over her, never asking questions he knew she didn’t want to answer.
And now they were done. That was good, right? Once she passed the test she could finally get around to starting the rest of her life.
The part where she hurt people who did deserve it.
“I’ve organized a test for you. I’ll drive you if you want,” Maddox offered.
“No,” she said sharply. “April will take me.”
Something about him driving her to something she was so damn afraid of was too far. Too close to him being the protector she knew he was aching to be.
Maddox kept his face carefully blank at her response. He did that, tried to hide his emotional responses to her quirks, her anger, her indifference, her cruelty. Her honesty, which was all of them wrapped up in one.
He was trying to keep his mask on because he was still trying to protect her from himself. It infuriated her.
“If that’s what you want,” he said diplomatically.
She gritted her teeth against the need to grab him by the shoulder and shake him.
Do something else. Kiss him.
But no. They’d had their first and only kiss.
“I’m proud of you,” he said, eyes on her, not giving her respite. “And I’ve really enjoyed these past few weeks with you.”
That’s the one thing Maddox did not do to protect Orion. He insisted on giving her eye contact, on forcing her to look at him, engage with him. She had long abandoned her system of trying to avoid it. It was like a magnet. Forcing her to stare at her past, at the mistakes she was making with her newly liberated future.
“You’re proud of me for learning how to drive?” she answered, forcing sarcasm into her tone. “It’s not something to be proud of when most sixteen-year-olds can do it.”
His eyes turned stormy, melancholy and anger mingling like clouds and lightning. “Yeah, you’ve already gone through what no sixteen-year-old could handle,” he rasped. “And I know this is something big, something that a lot of people who went through what you’ve gone through couldn’t do so early. So, I’m proud of you. For taking the wheel back on your life.”
Orion swallowed blades. There he was. Seeing too much, caring too much. He was the cop who would never catch all the bad guys. That would eventually be hunting her.
He was nothing.
She fastened a sweaty palm around the door handle like it was a fucking escape hatch. “It’s not my life, Maddox,” she said. “Not really. It will always be theirs. I just learned how to drive a car. I appreciate you taking the time. Your obligation is now over. I would appreciate it if you kept your distance from now on. No more dinners or movies. I just . . . I just need time to figure things out.”