58. Drew
DREW
I slam the car door harder than I mean to.
My chest is tight.
My breathing uneven.
The adrenaline still hasn't worn off.
Probably won’t for a long while.
Violet doesn’t say anything as I get in.
She just pulls away from the curb like this is normal.
Like I didn’t just climb out of my own bathroom window to get away from her.
Like I didn’t just accidentally text her instead of my brother.
Like she didn’t show up, driving my car.
I drag a hand through my hair and stare out the windshield. “This is insane.”
She hums softly beside me.
“You broke into my house,” I say.
“Yes.”
“You’ve been watching me for months.”
“Yes.”
“You hid in the bushes.”
“Yes.”
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “At least you’re consistent.”
“I try to be.”
I shake my head, leaning back into the seat. “This should bother me more.”
“It does bother you.”
“Not enough,” I mutter.
Silence settles between us, but it’s not empty. It’s full of everything I’m trying to sort through and can’t.
Because none of it makes sense.
Every time something felt off. Every time I convinced myself I'd imagined it.
It was her.
Watching.
Waiting.
My jaw tightens.
“You knew when I was struggling,” I say.
She doesn’t look at me. Just keeps her eyes on the road. “Yes.”
“You showed up every time.”
“Yes.”
“And you never—” I stop, trying to find the right word. The right accusation. It doesn’t come. “…You never hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t,” she says quietly.
I believe her.
That’s the problem.
That’s the part that doesn’t make sense.
I should be scared.
I should be telling her to pull over.
I should be calling someone for help.
Doing something.
Anything at all.
I climbed out a bathroom window to get away from her.
And somehow... Sitting beside her feels safer than standing alone on that sidewalk.
I don’t know what the hell that says about me.
I turn my head, looking at her. “Why me?”
“I already told you. The first time we met—"
“I know that. I mean, what is it about me?”
Her posture stiffens. Her fingers clench the steering wheel tighter.
“Because you were unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
I wait, not saying anything.
“The world I come from is... cold. Transactional.”
Her expression tightens. I catch a quick flash of anger before she masks it.
“People use you. Hurt you.”
My chest tightens. Something vicious twists inside me.
She finally turns her head to me.
“But not you. You were soft. Caring. I saw it in that brief moment when you saved me.”
Jesus.
My heart aches for her.
“When you looked at me, it was like... you saw me.” She swallows hard. “You cared.”
I hate the way her voice trembles at the end.
I hate that she wasn’t seen.
That she was hurt.
That she's still carrying it.
I watch her for a second longer. “Violet,” I rasp. “I’m sorry.”
She looks at me again. “That’s what makes you special, Drew.” She reaches over, squeezes my hand, then continues driving.
“Because I have basic decency.”
“It’s more than that.” Her eyes flick from the road to mine. “Because you’re real.”
I watch her.
How certain she is, despite what her life must’ve been like.
I remember the way she took on Smoke without hesitation.
The way she handled Julia.
“You don’t doubt anything, do you?” I ask.
“No.”
“That’s not normal.”
“I’m not normal.”
No argument there.
She turns into my driveway and parks my car.
I huff out a breath, something between frustration and disbelief. “I should get out of this car.”
She nods once. “Okay.”
That throws me.
I blink. “That’s it?”
“I said I’d take you back home.”
Her voice is calm. Steady.
But somehow I know she'd let me walk away.
Because she doesn't believe I will.
And even though I know I should tell her to give me my keys, change the locks, and never see her again…
I hesitate.
She sees me.
Not the version I show everyone. Not the version I hide behind.
Me.
She notices everything.
Remembers everything, even the things I forget.
Shows up without hesitation.
Never makes me question where I stand.
She just chooses me.
“You should scare me more than you do,” I say quietly.
Her gaze flicks to me. “Do I scare you?”
I think about it.
“Yeah,” I admit.
“Good.” A smile plays on her lips.
I huff out a breath, shaking my head slightly. “That’s not comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
I look at her.
Really look at her.
And for the first time... I’m not trying to figure her out.
Not trying to make her make sense.
I just… accept what she is.
Even if I don’t understand it.
Her eyes lock with mine. And my chest tightens.
But it’s not fear I’m feeling.
It’s something else.
Something deeper.
Something I don’t have a name for yet.
I don't understand any of this.
I just know I don't want to lose her.
My fingers curl against my leg.
Jesus Christ.
I don't want to leave my stalker.
Maybe I'm more like my brother than I thought.