Page 54 of Locke

Jem took a few moments to think on that. Then he said, “What the fuck?”

“I’m not gonna talk,” I snapped next, my spirit unusually sore. “That’s why he sent you to take me back, right? Well, I’m not going to tell anyone what happened, so you don’t need to threaten me, or pretend to care by asking me if I need to talk to someone—”

“A Hawthorne girl doesn’t talk,” he snapped back, looking at me closely. “I know girls like you, alright? You don’t need to assure me of that, and no, he didn’t fucking send me, I sent myself because there’s no fucking reason for you to see him. What, did you want to tell him goodbye or something?”

I didn’t answer.

My eyes burned.

I felt anger and stupid disappointment because, fuck, maybe a goodbye would have at least fucking helped. This was just whiplash.

“You guys had your fun, or whatever the fuck it is that happened,” Jem continued. “But now it’s time to move the fuck on with your lives. Locke…he ain’t the committed type, and he doesn’t recycle the same bitches—and I ain’t calling you a bitch or anything, but one and done is his motto, alright?”

But I didn’t believe that to be true.

“You’re full of shit,” I said next, shaking my head. “He likes me. That man probably wanted to fucking keep me, and you probably talked him out of it, didn’t you?”

Jem stared at me now with his mouth wide open. I’d left him speechless. I could see how right I was in his expression, and he was shocked. What, did he think I was stupid? A man doesn’t worship a girl’s name in the dark because he wants to forget about her.

Then again, he did let me go.

He discarded me by doing this, and that…

I sucked in a breath as Jem regained his composure, cursing, “Fucking Charlotte with her smart mouth and now you. You smart girls can read a bad man, but you’re fucking stupid—so fucking stupid to think you can change ‘em.”

Who said I wanted to change Locke?

That was preposterous.

Jem didn’t let me respond back. “Let me ask you something. Do you want to be back in that apartment with him? Do you want to be subjected to more of his wild sex marathons? And when you’re not fucking him black and blue, do you want him as he is? Because I’m gonna be honest with you, sweetheart, the rumours aren’t false. In fact, they’re quite fucking tame. That man is the definition of bad, and he is not capable of love or anything long-lasting. He is destructive, and he is broken, and no fucking girl from Hawthorne with the same crybaby background is gonna be able to change that. But if that’s what you want to do—if you want to try and be that girl with the magic pussy and healing touch, I’ll turn this truck right around and take you back to him. But prepare yourself for a world you will never fucking get out of. Because once you’ve seen that side, there’s no turning back. Answer.”

“You just went on a fucking tirade,” I shouted. “There are way too many fucking questions to answer, so give me a fucking minute, alright?”

My anger was fake.

Once again, I was putting on a performance.

Inside, though, I was shaking like a leaf.

His truth bombs hit me one after the next, and I knew the answer long before he’d even asked them.

No, I didn’t want to be part of Locke’s fucked up world. I knew what that man was capable of. And the fucking could have possibly killed me if he hadn’t stopped choking me when he did. I was always on the cusp of danger with him. I had stupidly put myself in the most vulnerable position yet. And right now, I was fully satiated, enough that the fog I had been under with him was all gone, leaving me with stone-cold clarity.

“Home,” I told Jem. “I want to go back home.”

Home was safety and routine.

Home didn’t make me confront my real self, and I needed to hide from her—that girl of my past. I needed to pretend she didn’t exist.

Home was a place Locke couldn’t touch.

And fuck his gentleness, it wasn’t real. I had just interpreted it that way because I was desperately seeking a connection.

But even when Jem dropped me off and I tried my best to carry on, I still couldn’t hide the crushing feeling in my being.

I was forgotten once more.

A nothing to everything, a nobody to anyone.

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