Page 14 of Music City Diaries

Jackass: What? I’m always nice. I just keep it real.

Darcie: Sure. *eye roll emoji*

Darcie: I’m okay. Well, I’m not, but I’m trying to be.

Darcie: What happened after we left?

Jackass: When my dad woke up, he was furious and attacked your father. It took three men to pull them apart. Whatever deal they were brokering is down the drain, and I doubt our clubs will ever be friendly again. It’s a shame, but since you’re a ghost, I guess there wouldn’t be anything for me there anyway.

Why was he saying these things?

Darcie: I can’t really take you right now.

Jackass: I’m sorry, by the way. I hate what my father did to you. I hate to ask, but did you handle things?

Darcie: Yeah.

Jackass: That’s one thing less to have to worry about. I couldn’t imagine another miniature him in this world. Oh, gross. Nope. Not going there.

Darcie: You’re weird.

Jackass: Better than being a jackass, I suppose.

Darcie: So, was my dad okay?

Jackass: He was pretty banged up, but nothing that won’t heal. Things weren’t good, though, when we left. I think several of his men are mad he was going to bargain with you.

Jackass: I didn’t know he was going to do that, you know? I don’t need my father to get pussy.

Darcie: And there you go being a jackass.

Jackass: Ugh, fine. You might have a point. It’s just so hard being good. It’s much easier being an asshole who doesn’t care about others. Take you, for example, if my father ever found out, I’d be a dead man. I’d much prefer to not have that hanging over my head.

Darcie: Sorry, your conscience means you might have to deal with your horrible father.

Jackass: You’re right. It’s just easier to think only of myself. Then no one can hurt me.

Darcie: That sounds like you’ve been hurt before. I find that hard to believe.

Jackass: There are a lot of things I imagine you don’t know about me, ghost.

Darcie: You know I can hear you saying babe, even though you don’t type it.

Jackass: I can’t win with you.

Darcie: I bet that’s a first.

Jackass: I liked it better when you’d just blush and lose all your words.

Darcie: Well, yeah, but we can’t reverse time before your father raped me, so this is what you get.

Jackass: You’re right. I’m sorry, it was a jackass thing to say.

Darcie: It really was.

I heard the key in the door, and I jumped. Quickly, I sent one last text before shoving the phone down my pants and attempting to act innocent. As soon as the door opened, my body moved on its own, and I flew across the room at him, wrapping myself around him.

“Oomph.” His arms wrapped around me, bags crinkling in the process. “Miss me, Runt?”

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