Page 56 of Tell Me It’s Right

I do as he says and let out a soft moan as I climb onto the heated seats and turn the air vents in my direction. I quickly wipe the tears from my cheeks as he climbs in a moment later and sets my things at my feet.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to c-call. Leo is out of town and?—”

“Gracie.” I suck in a surprised breath as he takes my face in his hands and looks me up and down. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “Christ. You’re freezing.”

He yanks the beanie off his head and pulls it onto mine instead, then takes a few moments to adjust my hair so it’s not stuck in front of my eyes.

“I’m f-fine,” I insist, but my chattering teeth ruin the intended effect.

He pulls his leg up to untie his shoes next. He rips a sock off, then gestures to me. “Give me your foot.”

“Liam—”

“Foot.”

My poor toes are so cold I can barely move them, so I don’t stop him as he takes my leg and works the sock onto my foot, then does the same thing for the other.

His eyes search my face, and I brace myself, waiting for him to ask and silently pleading with him not to. I don’t want to have to say it aloud. I don’t know how I’d put what happened tonight into words.

But in the end, I see it the moment he decides something, and he nods toward the seat belt behind me and shifts the car into drive.

“Buckle up.”

I stare out the window as we drive, though there isn’t much to see. The darkness swallows any details in the distance. The pit in my stomach grows heavier with each moment that passes in silence, the drive stretching on even longer than I remember it being on the way here. I try to imagine myself out there, stumbling my way back in the dark and the cold. How far would I have made it before I gave up? No other cars have appeared.

I shiver and force myself to stop the line of thinking.

Liam must think I’m still shaking from the cold, because he cranks the heat up higher and turns the remaining air vents in my direction. But the chill has sunk well beneath my skin, burrowing deep into my bones in a way that feels like it’ll never leave. It weighs on my eyelids, making it harder and harder to stay awake as the steady hum of the truck’s engine threatens to lull me to sleep.

But when we make it back to Sweetspire, my head jerks up as we reach the light before my neighborhood and Liam turns in the opposite direction.

He spares me a quick glance before refocusing on the road and tightening his fists around the steering wheel. “Leo and Keava won’t be back for a few days,” he says. “I…well, I don’t want to leave you alone right now. And I want to make sure youget that lip cleaned properly. Is it all right if I take you to my apartment?”

I probe at it and wince. It hurts more now that I’ve warmed up. I’m afraid to look.

“But I can just take you home, if you’d rather,” he adds when I don’t respond.

As much as I want to curl into a ball in my bed and never come out…I think about being in that house right now. The darkness. The quiet. And I realize being alone is the last thing I want.

“No,” I croak. “That’s okay.”

Chapter Nineteen

LIAM

She follows me up to the apartment like a zombie. I don’t even know if she can hear me talking to her. I subtly sweep her for other injuries as I open the door and follow her inside, but there’s nothing visible other than her busted lip. Didallof that blood come from her mouth?

Jesus Christ, that must hurt.

Blinding rage threatens to swallow me whole. I clench my hands into fists as I steer her to one of the kitchen chairs so I have some good lighting to clean up her face. She offers no resistance, her socked feet shuffling along the hardwood, and she all but falls into the seat.

I set her bag and shoes in the chair next to her, then hurry to find the first aid kit in the bathroom.Just focus on the task at hand. If I think too hard about how she ended up here, about what happened to her face, I won’t be any use.

She’s staring at the table when I return, and she doesn’t acknowledge me as I pull up a chair beside her. She still has my jacket tightly wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair is tucked beneath the collar, but a few strands fall out and frame her face. Makeup is smeared all around her eyes from crying.

Focus on the task at hand.

“Can I take a look at that?” I ask, trying to keep my voice gentle.

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