Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
“Nadia Rayle Pierce!”
Nadia whips around like someone just screamed her from the fucking grave, then she turns a few shades lighter than I have seen her all night. A wave of fear drapes over her; stifling and erasing every bit of happiness she managed to bottle up tonight.
“Fuck, it’s my dad.”
There’s no doubt about it, he remembers me by the way he glares at me with unbridled disgust. We’ve passed each other a time or two and I’ll never tell Nadia but he’s delivered some not-so-nice words in the past. I’ve never been afraid of him and if it ever came down to it he would be on his ass before he had the chance to spit another vile insult.
He’s since kept his temper in check around me but it seems that he’s become bold in my absence.
Actively choosing to keep my cool, the leather of my jacket creeks when my arms cross defensively over my chest and I lean against the hood of Delinquent.
My ankles repeat a similar process right as Gene’s eyes shift from Nadia to me.
Venom encrusted daggers shoot in my direction as he glowers, the possession in them wills me to disintegrate where I stand.
He can scowl at me all he wants, it’s not going to prevent me from having anything to do with his daughter.
Boy, are you in for one hell of a surprise—asshole.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Get your ass in the goddamn truck. We are going home!” Gene shouts.
“Alright, alright!” Her voice pierces the atmosphere, drawing more glances from the embarrassed yet too nosey for their own good classmates.
“Don’t you fuckin’ raise your voice at me, Nadia. I’ll beat that attitude right out of your smart fucking mouth.”
Red.
Pure, raging, blood-red, fills my vision. He grabs her arm then yanks her forward, putting too much distance between her and I. That’s all it takes to haul me away from the car and back onto my boots.
Who the hell does this mother fucker think he is?
Putting his hands on her and threatening her like she’s goddamn property?
She’s an adult for fucks sake; capable of making her own decisions including turning her back on me if she feels the need to.
That’s her damn decision to make, one without him trying to puppet her into following his commands.
His selective concern grates every single raw nerve ending I have, stoking the fury in my gut, and I know the asshole can see it.
He wants this, wants her to see how I react and show her the kind of man I can be under all the leather and soft words.
If he wants her to see it, to watch me shed the layers I hide under because they remind me too much of uncle, then I will.
I’ll be whatever monster he’s baiting me to be.
Following them in a storm of fury, my whole body unexpectedly comes to a halt when two forces meet both shoulders—Wes on my right, Zap on my left.
They have their arms bound around me in some sort of hold I instinctively fight despite their snake-like grips.
Every protective instinct I have flares to life when I hear Nadia yelp.
Wrestling harder against them, my nostrils flare, aiding the wave or adrenaline that bursts into my blood stream.
This is worse than the highway, worse than running from the cops and doing work for Emmett.
Seeing her stop and turn, scuffling with her dad’s iron grip, I fight Wes and Zap harder.
She’s trying to get back to me, back to where she’s safe–away from the one dousing her with fear.
Nadia pushes at his fist, Converse staggering through vehicle-crushed grass and over hidden dips in the earth.
Jerking, my boys put all of their weight on me to prevent me from closing the distance, pissing me off even more. I’m absolutely ready to slam my fist into both of their faces if it means they release me so I can make it to her before her dad does something worse.
Painfully, the pull she has on me frays, the universe slowly tearing us apart from each other and it’s gutting me—leaving a pit in my stomach.
She must feel it too cause the second it snaps, her spine straightens and her mask slips over her face again.
Shielding herself from a world designed to decimate all of her beauty.
Fuck, FUCK!
Shaking the guys off of me, I watch helplessly when she’s thrown into the driver seat of the truck; Gene follows behind her, slamming the door so hard it rattles the vehicle’s metal exterior.
Counting the seconds between every one of my hurried steps, the truck comes alive before I can make it to the passenger door.
Red light spills across the field, telling me he’s shifting the truck into drive; a breath later powerful headlights hit a few onlookers in the face, forcing them to shy away.
There’s too much silence, a story altering episode of our lives broadcasted for others to see.
I hate it, I hate him for doing this to her, for showing people what goes on behind doors, for hurting her.
I don’t know what to do, my angels are shouting for me to let her go while the demons inside want me to rip Gene limb from limb, then there’s that stupid logical side telling me that there’s nothing I can do right now.
I can’t fight a fucking truck, I can’t pry the door open like I’m Superman trying to save the girl.
I can’t even shoot my way through this, not because that’s not the type of man I am but I don’t have the means to do so.
I’m at a total loss—emotionally, mentally, and now physically when the brake lights dim and the truck pulls away.
No, no no no no no.
“Nadia!”
Dirt kicks up into my face when Gene gives it more gas, pushing it faster and harder out of the field, and putting other bystanders in danger. Flexing my hands, waiting, watching as the taillights fade into the dark after he pulls onto the blacktop road and guns it.
I can’t breathe, he’s taken my whole world with him out of spite and ownership. The urge to run, scream, and threaten him within an inch of his life has wedged under my skin where the slightest movement or brush ignites in pain.
I have to keep it together–fuck Kaleb bring it in!
Chastising myself, I know this is only temporary and in a few days’ time she will be back with me, escaping Gene and his control.
She’ll be happier–she promised to run away with me, to leave and never return to Hazelwood and I’m going to hold her to that.
A promise is a promise, so she has to do it.
I just hope he doesn’t do something so bad that it convinces her to stay here and forget about me.
Grabbing the bottom of my jacket and jerking, it straightens as my back does.
There’s a plan in place, I just have to wait a little longer and any amount of falling apart now isn’t going to save her come Monday.
It’s the expectant eyes staring through me from every direction that’s keeping me rooted.
They’re asking themselves why I didn’t do more to help her—the disappointment and sadness poisoning the air so heavily I’m ready to buckle beneath it.
I don’t want to leave this spot—the ground has a hold of me all over again where it subtly shifts under my boots, threatening to open up and swallow me deep into its belly out of shame.
I don’t want to leave her, or this night in the past. That thought alone is breaking me in half.
This field, and this night if I’m being honest, will live in my mind as both a blessing and a curse.
“Rey…” Zap’s voice comes from behind me, barely loud enough for anyone to hear other than me.
I know what he’s doing, attempting to ground me, bring me back to a more levelheaded place so I can function like a normal fucking man.
The need is there, trying so hard to cocoon me in its protective embrace but it’s not enough. I need more, I need—her.
“Rey.” Wes calls out next, his hand wrapping around my elbow just like Gene had grabbed Nadia.
Yanking away from him, my fists bunch the front of his shirt and shove him back until we find something more solid to stand against—someone’s SUV.
Nose to nose, if looks could kill he’d be dead where he stands.
This shit isn’t his fault, he’s never done anything to me other than piss me off because he wants to be a pest. Right now though, all of my anger is aimed squarely at him.
I’m about to break something of his when Zap tries to squeeze between us.
“Rey, man. Stop, he isn’t the one. I know, I know you’re torn up.
We know you can’t help it but fuck…don’t hit him.
” Wes is silent, watching me work through the whole ordeal without egging me into a fight he will lose.
He knows I don’t mean it, but part of me can’t decipher logic—can’t separate my anger from my heartache.
“Come on, Rey, let him go. It’s okay.” Zap’s voice softens. Doing what he can to bring me away from throwing myself off that proverbial cliff, the one I’d willingly fall over if it meant saving Nadia.
Time is nothing, it’s ticking by in agonizing seconds; one right after the other that almost feels like nothing. Warm and firm hands ease my grip open, it’s a feat at first, but they finally loosen and fall to my sides. Relief and guilt both swarm me, simultaneously sharp and soothing.
“I’m sorry,” I say. Stepping back from Wes, lightly brushing his shirt and shoulders off in the only way I can show my remorse. He’s a shithead, yeah, but he didn’t deserve me doing that to him.
“Don’t apologize, man. I know you’re going through it. Let us help you.”