Chapter 9
Delaney
At school on Friday, I round the corner and stop up short when Micah blocks my path.
I guess my luck ran out because despite managing to avoid him for a while, I was hoping for more time. I don’t have the energy to fight with him again.
I woke this morning from a gnarly dream and although I don’t remember the particulars, the dread still clings to me like a fucking shroud.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he says.
“Tell you what?” I ask behind a yawn.
I’ve worked every night this week. Between that and studying, I’m dog tired.
Micah brushes his hair off his face and says, “You could’ve stayed with me.”
Huh?
Standing from my slouch against the wall, I say slowly, “What are you talking about?”
“C’mon, baby. I thought you knew. You can always count on me.” He touches my arm, pointing his baby blues my way.
Pulling away, I say, “Really? You don’t even trust me, Micah.”
He has the good grace to flush but it’s not enough. I spent years trying to make him happy because I thought he loved me, and he stomped all over that sacred relationship when he accused me of fucking everyone within a ten-mile radius.
“You know it didn’t mean anything,” he mutters. “Why can’t you see that I love you, babe?”
“Were you dropped on the head as a baby? Take too many shots to the brain in football? Because your pathetic excuses are just, fucking…pathetic.”
Pushing open the door, I step outside while he follows and says, sullenly, “I spoke to Peter. He knows we broke up.”
“You did what?” I snap, spinning around.
“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t talking to me,” he shouts.
“Not talk to Peter,” I bellow, and he steps back, holding out his hands.
I can’t believe he called my stepdad. Will this get back to my mom? She’s teetering on the edge as it is.
Hearing from Micah could be the last fucking straw. Doesn’t he understand just how screwed up this is?
He was there the day my brother died. Grow a fucking brain…dick.
“Look,” he says after a moment. “He told me you ran away. I’m worried about you, babe.”
My anger thaws in the wake of his genuine concern but it doesn’t change the facts. I don’t trust him and I’d rather live with my useless dad than fight with Micah.
He ruined something that I stupidly thought was special and while I no longer obsess over his actions, I’m still hurt that he can’t see what he did was wrong.
“Look, I gotta go,” I mumble, ignoring his halfhearted goodbye.
Of course, Micah proceeds to text me over and over until I’m forced to turn off my phone just to have a few minutes of peace.
I’m sure he wants to get back together. Either that or he heard that Becky’s pissant boyfriend stopped me in the hall yesterday to ask me out, again.
I said no, obviously but this asshole has to take it out on me. Not that it’s his business anyway.
I can’t believe that I spent so many years kowtowing to him, walking on eggshells to make sure he didn’t get mad. For what?
“Delaney!” Joey calls from the living room.
Rolling over with a sigh, I open my door and say, “What?”
“Answer the fucking door,” he grunts, and I step down the hall.
Who the hell could that be? Draven?
When I peek through the curtains, I groan. How the fuck did Micah find me? Why?
“You gonna have friends over, get the damn door yourself,” Joey grumbles.
“Fuck off, Dad,” I sneer, and he whips around.
“Little bitch. Shoulda left you in a ditch. Helen’s been too soft.”
Crossing my arms, I lean over his pathetic stinky ass and growl, “Why didn’t you?”
His eyes flicker and he looks away while he chugs his beer. When he’s done, he crushes it in his meaty hand and says, “Don’t matter now.”
“Doesn’t it? You’re a drunk ass loser. What do you know?”
We’re both shocked when he pops me in the mouth before sitting back, his eyes wide.
Grabbing my face, I step away as he says, “Shut the fuck up. I saved your ass, you little bitch.”
“Really?” I sneer.
“Yeah,” he hisses. “You think you’re so smart. You’re fucking stupid. Just like she was, hanging all over those fucking saints.”
Saints? As in the MC?
“What are you saying?” I ask and he looks away, working his jaw.
“I ain’t saying shit. You think you’re so special but you’re just a throw away princess in a long line of trash.”
I’m out the door before I say more and Micah steps back when I emerge.
Although he’s the last, or second to last person I want to see, I’m trembling under the weight of Joey’s aggression and his mysterious words.
“Let’s go,” I rasp, and Micah leads me to his car.
“Look, babe,” he starts as soon as we’re on the road.
Holding up my hand, I say through a throat thick with tears, “Not now, Micah. Please.”
His brows rise but thank God he doesn’t argue. Unfortunately, he can’t stay quiet for long, which is maybe a blessing in disguise because if I consider what just happened with Joey, I may not be able to hold back the tide.
I can’t believe that he hit me. I’ve never been struck in my life, not even a swat on the ass when I was young and what did he mean about saving me from my mom?
Like—what?
“Babe,” Micah says, and I groan.
Ignoring my displeasure, he continues. “Can we go somewhere and talk? Please?”
I can’t be trusted to speak right this second because I may crack. Instead, I nod and follow him when he parks at the curb in front of the ice cream parlor.
It’s too fucking cold for ice cream but this particular place makes a yummy hot chocolate which is what I order while Micah hems and haws before finally settling on the same.
The place is packed, and I don’t relish having this conversation in a booth near the screaming toddler nor the older gentleman eyeing us like we’re about to rob the place.
Instead, we step outside and sit at a table against the wall. My ass is cold against the freezing metal seat but I’m doing my best to enjoy the rich, chocolatey caramel flavor of my drink when Micah says, “Babe…”
Glancing up, I meet his blue eyes and mentally sigh. I blew up at him the other day and didn’t give him a chance to say his peace. It’s the least I can do.
It wasn’t all bad times. He could be sweet and lovely. We had a lot of fun together.
“Look, Micah. I know this seems fast, but…I’m just not that girl anymore,” I whisper.
It’s true in more ways than he can understand. It’s not just the shit between him and me, it’s everything…losing my brother and by extension my mom, running away from home, my dad, a new job.
Shit, even meeting Maddox has changed me although I’m not saying I’m in love or something. I’m just…different.
“Delaney, you know I don’t care about that stuff, right?” he says.
“What stuff?”
He waves his hand in my direction, and I frown. Huh?
“About you, the trailer and stuff. I love you, Delaney.”
He goes to touch my hand, and I pull away. “That’s sweet. Thanks for not judging where I live, Micah.”
Jerk. Clearly, he’s thought about it. Why else bring it up to me?
Can’t he see that I’m struggling? No because he only sees what he wants to see, and it’s never truly been me.
“Babe–”
“No, Micah! You’re suffocating me. Your constant demands and suspicion…I can’t handle it anymore.”
It’s silent for a minute while he stares at me before he half rises from his seat and throws his drink in my face.
Gasping I wipe at my skin while he says, “You little bitch. I can’t believe you!”
Thankfully, the drink cooled off some, but my cheeks still sting as I stare at my hands.
That is until a shadow forms over the table. One minute, Micah is bitching at me and the next, he’s dangling in the air.
When I glance up, I find Maddox holding Micah and while I watch dumbfounded, he swings him around to the wall.
Shocked, I don’t know what to say as Maddox growls, “Did you just throw that at her face?”
“Uh,” Micah mumbles, his cheeks suffusing with color.
“Uh,” Maddox mocks while I sit there dumbly. “You think you can do shit like that and get away with it?”
“Maddox, back off man,” a deep voice says over my shoulder.
Maddox glances back and I shiver because I’ve never since this particular expression on his face and it reminds me that Maddox is not an ordinary run of the mill guy.
“Bro,” the other man says.
Maddox shoves Micah against the wall before letting him go just as a police cruiser pulls up to the curb.
Everything screeches to a halt when Peter steps from the vehicle and says, “What’s going on here?”
Maddox stiffens and the man who was trying to talk Maddox down sighs as Peter looks from me to Micah and says, “Delaney?”
Frozen, I meet Maddox’s gaze and his brows furrow.
Why did it have to be Peter? Peter, a sheriff’s deputy? Fuck me, what will he do if he finds out that I know Maddox?
Still, I don’t know what to say as Peter’s gaze slides to Maddox and he frowns.
Shit. What will Maddox do?
Stepping away from the table, I say, waving my hands for good measure, “Hey, uh, Peter.”
He glances beyond me, his jaw tight and I hunch my shoulders as he barks, “What’s going on here?”
When his eyes land on Maddox again before moving to his friend, I eye the tic in Maddox’s jaw.
He doesn’t speak but he doesn’t have to with the way he’s drilling my stepdad with his stare.
My lungs close at the sight and I silently will Maddox to back off as I step between them and say, “Nothing. Nothing is going on. I was having hot chocolate.”
I wave behind me and Peter glances at my coat, no doubt sticky from the chocolate sinking into the fabric.
His brows rise and he says, “Is that right?”
Micah does some weird shuffling thing, but Peter’s gaze never wavers.
My cheek tingles where I suspect Maddox is also boring a hole in my skull.
Helpless under the onslaught, I say, “Right, Micah?”
When I turn to him and raise my brows, he nods stiffly.
It’s the only intelligent thing he’s done since he picked me up because I’m not above telling Peter about his actions.
Into the awkward silence, Peter turns to Maddox and barks, “Why are you still here?”
Please just go.