Chapter 26 Hope #2
“You are breathing.” Heath gently leans his forehead against mine. “Thank, fuck.” Relief echoes thick in his voice.
I close my eyes and breathe. The whiff of his scent enters me and makes a home inside my lungs. It’s his everyday cologne. One that is rich in tones of sandalwood and fresh mint. It smells heavenly and addicting.
Something taps the windshield pulling my attention away from him. I glance and see raindrops. A few more fall down. Then, the skies crack open with the booming sound of the thunder and bright flash of lightning that slices through the heavy mass of clouds. Soon, it starts raining freely.
“How are you feeling” Heath asks, turning my face in his direction.
I meet his worried gaze. Blue eyes that ache for me. It heals something in me, knowing at least someone cares about me. “I’m okay.”
He tucks a few strands of my hair behind my ear. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
I shiver, as those fingers graze the side of my neck. “No, I’m fine.”
“You really mean that?”
“Yes,” I answer strongly.
He turns on the heat and adjusts the fans in my direction. Warm air hits me that feels oddly comforting.
“You were shivering,” he murmurs as he starts the car and flips on the wipers.
“Thank you,” I reply.
Heath drives slowly as the rain gains momentum, drumming hard against the windshield. His eyes stay focused on the road as he switches lanes and makes turns.
I’ve seen him drive before, but I’ve never noticed how incredibly attractive he looks while doing it. Even in a weather like this, he commands the car with such skill that comes naturally to him.
“Who taught you to drive?” I wrap my arms around me and get comfortable in the seat.
I know he wants to know what happened but I don’t want to talk about it right now.
Heath stops at a red light. The roads are empty and the shops are closed. If he wanted to he can break the signal, but he doesn’t. As if he is stretching the moment, hanging onto the calm before the storm unleashes.
The way his jaw ticks and his hands tighten around the steering wheel, makes it clear he’s livid.
And that makes me nervous.
I don’t like anger. I know what it makes one do.
His head turns as if he can sense my fears. A switch happens instantly. His eyes soften and his face loses the anger.
He changes himself for me.
Reaching over, he places his hand on my thigh, as if it’s second nature to him.
“Derek,” he says.
A jolt of surprise whizzes through me. “Derek?”
He smiles. “Yes.”
“I can’t believe it.”
He huffs out a laugh, but sadness flickers through his eyes. “He wasn’t so bad when my sister was around. He was chill, used to smile and laugh with us.” He sighs. “I was fourteen when he taught me in our driveway on his old Subaru. It was manual—”
“What’s manual?” I ask.
“There is a gear stick so you can switch gears,” he explains calmly.
I look down and see a stick. “So this is manual?”
Instead of taking away his hand that is resting over my thigh, he lifts off the one from the steering wheel and point it to the centre console and the handles on the side of the steering wheel.
“It is both.”
“Is that possible?”
He nods with a hint of a smile while I try to wrap my head around it. Clearly, I know nothing about cars. Only books.
The light changes to green. Pressing hard on the gas, he goes right and then slows down again.
“What changed Derek?” I blurt.
His hand tightens on my thigh, fingers stretching and reaching the inner side, eliciting tingles that make me shift a little. Heat gathers in the pit of my stomach.
“Emery’s death,” he says in a grim tone. “They were close. He saw her like a granddaughter and adored her. He wasn’t as grumpy or robotic like he is now. He used to be human.”
“How was he with you?”
“He was nice. He didn’t like me much because of my hatred for my dad. He wasn’t okay with it. Apparently, he knew why they had sent us here and always said that it was for a reason. I tried to extract that information out of him multiple times, but he never gave it up.”
I knew it bothered Heath that his parents left him. It hurt me to see him like this.
Whatever he felt, I felt it a hundred times more. All I wanted for him was to happy and not feel like he wasn’t wanted or that he could be abandoned. He was worth far more than what he was made to feel.
His exterior was tough, but on the inside there was a kind and caring heart—despite being a little purple and bruised because of all the pain he was carrying.
“Do you still wonder about it?” I ask.
“About what?”
“The reason why your parents left you.”
In a quiet voice, he says, “Always.”
Before I can say anything, his phone starts ringing. We both glance at it, sitting in the cup holder, its screen lighting up. ‘Mom’ flashes across the screen.
Heath switches it to silent and keeps driving.
But the calls keep coming.
The rain continues to fall as he drives along the winding road that curves around the small hills leading to uptown. On either side, rows of magnificent houses sit, and street lamps cast a warm glow in the sea of darkness. It’s past midnight and everyone is sleeping.
Heath pulls up in front of his house. Rolling down the window, he punches in the code and the gates separate, making way for him to drive. He pulls up in the garage and parks the car beside his sister’s car. When he switches off the engine, his gaze latches onto her car and his body goes rigid.
“She misses you too,” I say.
His gaze flickers to me and he leans over and kisses me.
Getting out of his side, he comes around and opens the door for me—it’s something he always does, but I still haven’t gotten used to it.
Lacing his fingers with mine, he kisses me again and then stares down at me.
“We need to talk,” he says.
I give him a weak nod. “Thank you for bringing me here. I don’t have anywhere else to go—”
“Good. Because I don’t want you to go anywhere else when I’m here,” he says in a serious tone.
I give his hand a squeeze, because if I open my mouth only a sob will come out.
Heath has no idea how awful I feel right now.
If I didn’t have him in life, I’d be on the streets, probably sleeping against a tree or in the back of an alley.
But that’s not even the part that hurts.
It’s the fact that my mother kicked me out and both of my parents are okay with it.
As if they don’t care about what happens to me. They kicked me out.
Pain slices through me like a double-edged sharp sword. A twinge of excruciating pulse, biting deeply.
He steps closer. Cupping the back of my head, he presses a kiss on my head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”
How can I not?
“I’ve got you, Rose. I’ve always got you. You can rely on me.”
Are you sure?
“It’s going to be okay.”
I don’t know about that.
“You can stay here.”
For how long?
When I don’t answer, he tips my head back and makes me look at him. His gaze is steady as he studies me. Eyes locked on me in full concentration as if he can read all the words and sentences that I don’t speak.
I try to hide from him, but I know I can’t.
He’s always seen me.