Page 107 of SNOB

Mac reaches into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. “You can stay at The Emerald to get to class if that’s easier. But this place is yours, Ember.”

“To get to class?” Gray pipes up. “Have you not heard? With your powers combined, she’s an internet sensation.”

So much is happening.

“Look at me, Ember,” Mac’s fingers come to my chin, moving my gaze to him. “You will go to class, understand? Don’t pass up on an opportunity like that.”

Is he serious? “Mac, I can’t go back there.”

“You will.”

“Are you insane?”

Mac’s hand comes to my throat.

A surge of heat rips through me. “Get your hand off me, Mac.” My teeth grit as Mac’s eyes narrow like I’m the problem.

Gray whistles, his hands in the air like we have weaponry. “That’s my cue.” He moves towards the door. “You know, Valley girls aren’t so bad after all. I’ll be at a bar finding one for myself.” Gray’s words warble in and out of my head, my eyes on Mac’s, my attention on his hand around my neck.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m one of those assholes at Red’s, you know who I am, Everett.” Red. Picasso. A joke, just like his name. The flashes of that room flicker in my head before my hands come to Mac’s arms, pulling them down. He tightens his grip so I scratch at his skin. He growls, “Calm the fuck down, Ember.”

“I won’t let you hurt me.” Pounding against his chest, there’s little fight in me, the heaviness of everything weighing me down. A tightness in my chest spills out in tears on my face. “Don’t hurt me.”

I don’t even realize he’s moved his hand from my neck until he catches both of my wrists. That’s all I have before I fall against his warm chest, a soaking pad for my tears. It all comes out. Right on him, the images from the last weeks rolling through my mind. Beau, Uncle Jake, Picasso, my mom, Hannah…

My sobs fill the room, the darkness from my last days filling me up until flashes of light flicker between. My scholarship. My artwork. Mac.

Then his words roll through me, “I won’t.”

A soft flicker lights up the room when I open my eyes. There’s no darkness. There’s no cold draft. Red doesn’t fill the space. Instead, candles sit around us, a high-piled rug underneath me as pillows and sheets surround me.

“Welcome back.”

Mac.

“Did you light all this?” I ask. It’s like a scene from a romance, a soft glow filling the space. Old gothic rock plays from his phone, tobacco filling the air.

“Thought I’d shed some light on our darkness.” It’s only when his voice feels like it's on my insides that I realize my head is in his lap. A softer gesture from Mac. “And I forgot to extend the electricity contract.”

“Thought you were a businessman.” Looking up, his eyes meet mine. While I know that face well, it’s like something shifted. There’s a gentleness to it, something I’ve only seen flickers of before but now, it lingers.

“My father thought I was a businessman. Hockey was always my thing.” His voice trails as a tightness comes to my stomach, as if he’s realizing the same thing I am.

“Is that dream gone?” I wince, knowing I’m the reason that he might never achieve his dreams “Like… forever?”

“Yes,” he says. “Your mom came back to town, asking if there’s anything she could do about solidifying the contract. But I told her to leave. She abandoned you. So I abandoned her. Now, I have my mind on other things.”

“Mac…” When I sit up, his hand grips to my thigh, as if leaving isn’t an option. “I’m so?—”

“Don’t,” he cuts off my apology. “It’s worth it. I always looked for an escape from this life. You’re it, Everett.”

“Not Hannah?” I hate that I still sound bitter. After all this.

His eyes narrow on mine. “You still think I gave her Beau’s phone.”

“You didn’t?” My head pops up, a release in my chest. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“You didn’t trust me,” he says. “But you do now.”

---