“Un-fucking-believable!” I shouted, picking up a vase from the coffee table and hurling it across the room where it shattered against the wall.
I slammed myself back against the brown leather couch, running my hands over my face in exasperation.
What the f**k?
“What’s up?” I heard Jax come around the corner and ask. I laid my head back, closing my eyes and locking my hands on top of my head.
“Nothing,” Jared answered. “Let me handle this.”
I didn’t hear Jax leave, but when I dropped my hands and opened my eyes he was gone. Jared walked around the coffee table and sat down in the brown leather chair that matched the sofa.
“She went back to Shelburne Falls for the rest of the weekend. Her mom texted saying she needed her there or something,” Jax said. The anger inside of me created a fog in my head too thick to think.
Jared dug in his hoodie and seemed to be removing one of his keys. “We’re heading back now,” he said as he worked. “We’ll visit the parents, and Tate’s got a race tonight. You should come.”
I shook my head, not even looking at him.
Was he nuts?
He held a key out to me. “To Tate’s house,” he explained. “Fallon is staying there tonight. Mr. Brandt is leaving town on business early this evening, and I’ll keep Tate in our room at your house. You go sort this out.”
I shook my head. “No way. I’m done.”
What the hell did Fallon ever really do for me anyway? This was the last straw. If she couldn’t open up and act f**king normal, then she wasn’t worth it.
Jared stood up and threw the key on my T-shirt-clad chest. “Just go,” he ordered. “Sort this shit out. I want my friend back.”
“No,” I maintained. “I’m not chasing after her again.”
“I told the whole school about my teddy bear to get Tate back.” He scowled down at me. “Chase. Harder.”
But I couldn’t.
Fallon knew I wanted her. She had to know that I cared about her. But I didn’t trust her. She was playing me, and I didn’t know why.
When she was ready to talk, she’d find me.
CHAPTER 21
FALLON
“Daddy?” I look up from the hospital bed where I’d just been asleep. He stands over me in his cream-colored cable sweater and brown leather jacket, smelling of coffee and Ralph Lauren.
His eyes, pained and exhausted, scan over my body. “Look what you’ve done to yourself.”
My face scrunches up, and my eyes start to tear. “Daddy, I’m sorry.” A sob catches in my throat, and I look for him to hold me.
I need him. He’s all I have.
The emptiness. The loneliness. I’m all alone now. I have no one. My mom is gone. She won’t call me. The baby is gone. My hands instinctively go to my stomach, and I only feel a dull throb in the pit instead of love.
My eyes burn, and I look away, starting to cry in the quiet and darkened room.
This isn’t my life. It’s not how it was supposed to be. I wasn’t supposed to love him. I wasn’t supposed to break.
But after the abortion, everything sunk into the mud, and I couldn’t walk anymore. I couldn’t eat. The pain in my chest only grew, and I was constantly exhausted from the worry and heartache. Where was he? Was he trying to reach me? Did he think about me?
I hadn’t realized until I was torn from him how much I loved him.
My mom said it was infatuation. A crush. That I’d get over it. But every day the frustration and sorrow deepened. I was failing in school. I had no friends.
I finally snuck back to Shelburne Falls only to find Madoc had definitely moved on like my mom said. He wasn’t dwelling on me one bit. The only thing on his mind was the girl with her head between his legs. Backing away¸ I had run out of the house and jumped back in my father’s car that I had stolen. Now, here I was, three days later with lacerations on my arms and a sharp ache in my chest.
I suck in a breath and stiffen as my father rips the blanket and sheet off of me, sending them flying to the floor.
“Daddy, what are you doing?” I cry, noticing his fierce green eyes.
He yanks me from the bed, squeezing my upper arm so hard that the skin stings.
“Ow, Daddy!” I wail, limping across the floor as he drags me into the bathroom. My arm feels stretched, like any minute he’ll yank it from the socket.
What is he doing?
I watch as he plugs up the bathroom sink and begins filling it with water. The fingers of his other hand dig into the flesh of my arm, and I begin hyperventilating.
He pulls my arm hard, yanking me closer as he yells. “Who are you?”
Tears spill over, and I sob, “Your daughter.”
“Wrong answer.” And he grabs the back of my neck and forces my face into the filled sink.
No!
I gasp and suck in unwanted water as my head is forced under. I slam both hands on each side of the sink to push back against his hand, but he’s too strong. I shake my head, my slippery hands sliding out from under me as I struggle against him.
The water is in my nose, and I squeeze my eyes shut against the burn.
Suddenly, I’m yanked up out of the water.
“Daddy, stop it!” I cough and sputter, water dripping from my ratty tendrils and chin.
His voice thunders around me. “You want to die, Fallon?” He jerks my head in his anger. “That’s why you did this, right?”
“No . . .” I rush out before he slams my head back into the water, cutting off my air supply. I barely have time to think or prepare myself. My mind turns black as I wail into the shallow depth.
My father won’t kill me, I tell myself. But I’m hurting. The insides of my forearms sting, and I think my cuts are bleeding again.
He yanks me back up, and I reach behind myself and grab at his hand at the back of my head as I sob.
“Who are you?” he bellows again.
“Your daughter!” My body shakes with fear. “Daddy, stop it! I’m your daughter!”
I’m crying and shivering, the front of my nightgown dripping water down my legs.
He growls close to my ear. “You’re not my daughter. My daughter doesn’t give up. There were no skid marks on the street, Fallon. You crashed into the tree on purpose!”
I shake my head against his grasp. No. No, I didn’t. I didn’t hit it on purpose.
My mouth fills with thick saliva, and my eyes squeeze shut, remembering leaving Madoc’s house and hiding out at my father’s place near Chicago. I’d taken one of his cars and . . . no, I didn’t try to hit the tree.