Page 116 of Truly Forever
I almost let it happen again.
John
The last time I felt this degree of rage, wanted this badly to inflict pain—literal, physical, bloodletting pain—is long enough ago that it’s merely a sensation of memory.
I wait at my driver’s door, deliberately eyeing the bulky guy, who reeked of cigarettes and pot, as he cuts the angle across the lot—still watching me, too. Not until he hauls himself into the cab of a running semi and closes the door do I refocus.
I’m still trying to catch my breath after leaving the bathroom and seeing the guy with his hands on Hollie. That fast, murder flashed through my mind, that and the awareness that my sidearm was fifty feet away in a glove compartment.
No problem. The adrenaline coursing my veins would have been more than adequate for whatever the situation necessitated.
I keep an eye out and start the engine, hitting thehighswitch on the fan to warm things up. Hollie looks chilled through.
Frozen and distant.
I touch her shoulder. “What happened? What did he do?”
She blinks. “Nothing.” She stares at her hands kneading each other against her sweatshirt. “I-I overreacted.”
“Not a chance. He had no business touching you!” Turns out my adrenaline is only firing up. Why didn’t she wait for me? “For the love of…you can’t just—”
Something stops me. No,Ican’t. I can’t yell at Hollie. I can’t tell her what to do. I’m not her keeper. She’s not a child.
I hate her faint recoil when I touch her cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She doesn’t look it. “Talk to me.”
It’s like she’s crying, yet there are no tears, merely painful-sounding gasps for air. She bats at her strangely dry eyes. “I told you I’m fine. Nothing happened.”
Then why the vacancy in her gaze, the shaking?
I’ll face the demons with her, yesterday’s or today’s.
I smooth my hand down her hair. “But something has happened before, hasn’t it?”
She blinks once, twice. Scoots against the door and her breathing changes, the inhales coming quicker for several intakes, then turning slow and long. A breathing technique like a counselor might teach?
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Why would I want that?” Curled into herself, she delivers the question with bite.
“I’d like to share the load.”
She snorts. “No one can, John. Only me.”
Now that’s a feeling I know. The thing is, my load is ninety percent self-inflicted. Not so with Hollie, I just know it. Yeah, me, mister make-your-bed-and-lie-in-it, here and now absolves Hollie Carpenter. She totes the miseries others heap on her back.
I barely skim the ponytail brushing her shoulder. “Talk to me.”
Still shaking, she turns to the side window. “Your first instincts about me were right.”
No, no they were not. They were presumptuous, judgmental, arrogant thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have involved you in my life.”
I’m not sorry. Fingering her hair, I let silence work.
“I’m broken. I’ve known it for a long time, but lately…lately I’m seeing things clearly. No wonder Jacob took off.”
I squeeze her shoulder. “Don’t say that. He took off because he’s young and self-absorbed and foolish.”