Page 89 of Stolen Summer

My head whirled in his direction. “I want to be there.”

“No, absolutely not.” He pulled into my driveway, slamming the car into park. “You’re going home and then back to the hospital.”

I glowered at him, the darkness in my expression intensifying. He wasn’t the only one who could be scary when it suited him. “I don’t take orders from you. Remember, you ended our…agreement.”

“To save you from shit like this,” he argued, flinging off his seat belt.

“News flash, Riley, it didn’t work.”

His eyes flared with dark, dangerous emotion.

“Why do you care what happens to me? You made it clear you were done with me.” I reached for the door handle, forgetting my seat belt was still secured across my chest.

“Killer—”

I snapped back in my seat. “Don’t,” I warned, fumbling with the lock mechanism. “Don’t call me that. I’m nothing to you, remember? You lost the right to call me anything.”

“You’re right,” Cole conceded, something I never imagined he’d do.

Since I was already on an emotional roller coaster, the stewing anger wasn’t difficult to summon. “You pushed me away. You don’t get to show up and pretend you were worried about me. Don’t bother coming back. I’ll find my own ride to the hospital. I don’t need you.” I aggressively opened the door.

“Arie,” Cole growled, leaning over the seat to glare at me as I slammed the door shut.

Nothing had changed between us. We were still stuck in the same spot, and I didn’t want to travel down that road again when I’d just veered off that road onto a new one. It was still heartbreakingly emotional, and the two roads seemed to have intersected. Now I was stuck in the center, deciding which path to take.

When the choice was between Cole and my best friend, Frankie won every time.

Sadie gasped when she saw me, her hand pausing from the task of stirring whatever simmered in a large pot on the stove. It smelled like soup, warming the inside of the house to an unbearable temperature. Even with the windows open, it was hot.

“It’s not my blood,” I quickly assured, wondering how the hell I’d been in this kitchen a few hours ago and my world had been so much brighter then, which said a lot. “Frankie’s in the hospital. I need to get back after I clean up. Do you think you can drop me off?”

“Of course. Is she okay?” Sadie asked, genuine worry crinkling at the corner of her eyes. She had her blonde hair pulled back into a low messy bun while she cooked.

“I think she will be, but I don’t know,” I admitted, dropping my bag on the kitchen table.

“I’ll make you some iced tea and pour you a bowl of soup while you shower. You need to eat before you go.”

My mouth opened to protest that I didn’t have time, but my stomach rumbled loudly from the savory smell of the soup infusing the air.

“If you want a ride, you eat,” Sadie added before I could argue.

Would it be so bad to let Sadie take care of me? No, but it was difficult when I was so used to being the dependable one. Sadie had that maternal instinct that made her so good at her job.

I turned the water as hot as my skin could take it and began to scrub. The clothes I’d worn sat in the trash, including the shirt Cole let me borrow. This time, I wouldn’t be returning it.

Checking my phone as soon as I got out of the shower, I had no messages. I wanted to believe it was a good sign.

After tossing on the first clean thing I found in my room, I wolfed down the soup Sadie made me eat and drank my iced tea. I hadn’t tasted a thing, but my stomach no longer complained. It had taken effort not to burst into tears, sobbing into my bowl of soup, but with Sadie keeping me company, I held my shit together.

Sadie didn’t drive like Cole. She was responsible and didn’t have a reckless bone in her body, but she was safe.

Unlike someone else.

“Was that Crew Riley I saw drop you off?” she asked as we cruised down the Strand, heading toward the main road.

My spine stiffened. I shook my head, staring out the window. “No, it was Cole.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time next door. Is there something going on between you?” she prodded but in a caring parental way that surprisingly didn’t bother me.