Perfect Lie(53)

“What?” I yelled, as I slammed my bedroom door behind me and paced toward the living room.

“Are you home?” Abel sounded just as angry.

“Fuck you.” I hung up, and the rang again before I could slip it into my pocket.

“Are. You. Home?” He paused between each word, and I knew he was trying to keep his cool.

“Oh, you want to come save me now? Is this the game you’re playing? You can’t be both the hero and the villain.”

“Unlock the door.”

I glanced toward the front door, and my heart jumped in my chest. I knew I should run up to it and turn the deadbolt, but my feet didn’t move. “It’s unlocked.”

The line went dead, and a few moments later, Abel walked through and straight down the hallway toward me.

“What are you trying to prove?” I asked him. “I’m not as cool as you? I’m not as pretty as Trish? I fucking get it. I get it. You can stop now.”

He stepped right in front of me, and I had to bend my neck to look up at him. “You want to get raped at a fucking party to prove you’re popular?”

“You had no right to talk to me that way. What I do is none of your fucking business!” I poked my finger into his chest, and he wrapped his hand around my wrist, jerking it away to stop me.

“Is it Brock’s business? Were you thinking about him at all while you were busy trying to become a statistic?” His grip on my wrist tightened.

“What the fuck do you care?”

“I don’t give a shit about your stupid little boyfriend who won’t even get on a fucking plane to come see you. I don’t want you to get hurt just because you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, Abel. That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t give a fuck about you.” I pushed against him with my other hand, and he stood there, unmoving.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” I pushed again, and he took a step forward.

“You didn’t give a fuck when I held you all night and you cried over Brock?” His voice was quiet and almost sweet. Almost.

“No.” I glared at him as I shoved. He took another step forward, and I stepped back again, my body pressed against the wall.

“Not when we were on the couch together, Kettle?” His nose skimmed along my cheek as he inhaled.

“Shut up.”

He grabbed my other wrist from his chest and held my hands beside me as he took one last step, his body flush against mine. “You don’t feel anything?” he asked, his forehead against mine, his eyes closed. Our breathing was out of control from the anger and sexual tension that swirled in the air. “What about…” His lips moved to my ear. “…when I fucked your only friend in the room right next to you? What did you feel then?”

“I hate you.” I used my body to push him away from me, and he stepped back with a light, sardonic laugh. I ran to my bedroom and slammed the door closed as I broke down, finally unable to hold back everything I’d been feeling since the day I’d lost Brock.

“Good. I’ll stop wasting my fucking time,” he yelled, as the front door slammed behind him.





Chapter Thirteen


Running



It didn’t escape me that Trish never bothered to come see if I was OK. It wasn’t something I’d ever expect of her, but on top of the pain that settled in my chest, it made it impossible to breathe.

I began to gather my things, throwing them haphazardly around the room through blurred vision. I wouldn’t be here when she finally showed up, and I damn sure didn’t want to face Abel again.

I shoved a few outfits into an old suitcase and made my way down the flight of steps on shaky legs. As I reached the curb, I pulled out my cell phone and called Uncle Greg. It took a few tries, but he finally answered.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice laced with sleep and concern. He coughed and wheezed as I waited patiently to respond.

“Nothing. I just need to get away for a few days.”

He cleared his throat. “What about school?”

“I can drive one of your cars there.”

He sighed loudly. “Why don’t you use some of that money to get yourself something dependable? There’s more than enough.”

“I will. I just…Can I come for a few days?” I didn’t want to think about the money Greg had given me when I moved out here. He already had done too much to help me.

“I’ll leave the light on. Delilah, you know you never have to ask. This is your home now too.”

“It’s just for a little while.” I hung up the phone and hailed a cab to take me to my uncle’s place. It was larger than any one person could ever need. He had told me I was welcome to stay with him until I graduated from college, but I wanted to be on my own, away from anything connected to my past.