Chapter sixty-one
HARDIN
They couldnât have been here longâI went twenty miles over the speed limit the whole way. The moment I spot Zedâs truck in the driveway of the small brick house, I nearly vomit. When he steps out onto the porch, my vision goes red.
Zed walks slowly to his truck as I park on the street, not wanting to block him in, so he can just get the fuck out of here. What will I say to him? What will I say to her? Will she even be able to hear me?
âI knew youâd show up here,â he says quietly when I appear in front of him.
âWhy wouldnât I?â I growl, biting back my rising anger.
âMaybe because this is all your fault.â
âAre you fucking serious? Itâs my fault that Steph is a goddamned psycho?â Yes; yes, it is.
âNo, itâs your fault that you didnât come with Tessa to that party in the first place. You should have seen her face when I busted that door in.â He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the memory. My chest tightens. Tessa must not have told him that we arenât together. Does that mean sheâs still holding on, the way that I am?
âI . . . I didnât even know she was going there, so fuck off. Where is she?â
âInside.â He states the obvious with a murderous glare.
âDonât fucking look at me like thatâyou shouldnât even be here in the first place,â I remind him.
âIf it wasnât for me, she would have been raped and God knows what elseââ
My hands find the collar of his leather jacket, and I push him up against the side of his truck. âNo matter how many times you try, no matter how many times you âsaveâ her, she will never want you. Donât forget that.â
I give him one last push and step away. I want to hit him, bust his fucking nose for being such a smug asshole, but Tessa is just inside that house, and seeing her is much more important right now. As I walk past his truck windows I see on his seat Tessaâs purse and . . . dress.
She doesnât have clothes on?
âWhy is her dress off?â I dare to ask. I yank on the door handle and gather her things into my arms. When he doesnât answer immediately, I glare at him, waiting for his response.
âThey took it off of her,â he simply remarks, his expression grim.
âFuck,â I murmur and turn to walk up the path to Tessaâs motherâs house.
As I reach the porch, Carol comes out to block the front door. âWhat the hell are you doing here?â
Her daughterâs wounded, and her first thought is to scream at me. Fucking lovely.
âI need to see her.â I grab the handle to the screen door. She shakes her head, but moves out of my way. I get the feeling that she knows Iâll push right past her.
âYou arenât coming into this house!â she shouts.
I ignore her and step around her. âDid you not hear me! Donât walk past me like you didnât hear me!â The screen door slams somewhere behind me as I scan the small living room to find my girl.
And then I freeze momentarily when I see her. Sheâs lying on the couch with her knees bent slightly, her hair like a blond halo around her head, and her eyes closed. Carol continues to harass me, threatening to call the cops, but I donât give a shit. I step over to Tessa, then kneel down so that Iâm level with her face. Without thought, I brush a thumb over her cheekbone and cup her flushed cheek in my palm.
âChrist,â I curse and watch closely as her chest moves up and down slowly.
âFuck, Tess, Iâm so sorry. This is all my fault,â I whisper to her, hoping that she can hear me. Sheâs so beautiful, still and calm, her lips parted slightly, innocence clear on her breathtaking face.
Carol of course jumps into the moment, spewing her anger at me. âYouâve got that right! This is your fault. Now get out of my house before I have you dragged out by the police!â
Without turning to her, I say, âWould you just give it a rest? Iâm not going anywhere. Go ahead and call the police. Have them show up here this late at nightâyouâll be the talk of the town, and we all know you donât want that.â I know sheâs glaring at me, throwing daggers in her mind, but I canât look away from the girl in front of me.
âFine,â Carol finally snorts. âYou have five minutes.â
Her shoes drag against the carpet in the most hideous way. Why is she so dressed up this late anyway?
âI hope you can hear me, Tessa,â I begin. My words are rushed but my touch is gentle as I caress the soft skin of her cheek. Tears well up in my eyes and fall onto her clear skin. âIâm so sorry. God, Iâm so sorry for all of this. I shouldnât have let you walk away in the first place. What was I thinking?
âYou would be proud of me, a little, I think. I didnât kill Dan when I found him; I only kicked him in the face . . . oh, and I choked him a little, but heâs still breathing.â I pause before admitting, âAnd I almost drank tonight, but I didnât. I couldnât make things even worse between us. I know you think I donât care, but I do, I just donât know how to show you.â I stop to examine the way her eyelids flutter at my voice.
âTessa, can you hear me?â I ask, hopeful.
âZed?â she barely whispers, and for a moment I swear the devil is messing with my mind.
âNo, baby, itâs Hardin. Iâm Hardin, not Zed.â I canât help the irritation that flares in me from hearing his name come so softly from her lips.
âNo Hardin.â Her eyebrows pull together in confusion, but her eyes stay closed. âZed?â she repeats, and I drop my hand from her cheek.