Page 37 of Pretty Broken Things

Once we’re clear of the hospital and inside Ford’s truck, Shane starts laughing.

“What about tonight is so fucking funny?” Ford practically growls.

Shane is gasping for breath as he laughs even harder. “You’ve been boning your sister for weeks.”

“Tessa is not my sister,” Ford snaps.

Shane shrugs. “Your mom is married to her dad. That makes you stepsiblings, dude.”

Ford turns to face me. “I don’t give a shit about what is going on between them. You. Are. Mine. Nothing and no one will change that.”

I pray he’s right, but I know what my father values above all, perception. He’s not going to accept anything that deviates from the image he wants to project.

ChapterSeventeen

Tessa

It’s nearlyfour when we crawl into bed at Shane’s grandparents’ house. Usually once Ford falls asleep nothing can wake him. Tonight he tosses and turns, and even talks in his sleep. I’m able to put bits and pieces together and the image is heartbreaking. He is reliving the ordeal he went through to get his mom out of a locked room, and there’s nothing I can do to help him. I hold him tighter, hoping I can give him some comfort. I debate waking him up, but I’m afraid he’d just try and go back to the hospital, and maybe even a restless night’s sleep is better than none at all.

I’m not sure when I finally fall asleep, but when the smell of coffee fills the small space of the clubhouse, I’m still not ready to wake up. My eyes feel scratchy as I force them open. Ford is sitting on the side of the bed, holding out a to go cup of coffee for me.

“Do you want me to drop you off at home on my way to the hospital?” he asks as he hands me the cup.

“I want to come with you,” I say, yawning.

Ford shakes his head. “I really appreciate you being there for me last night when I needed you. I’ve already called the hospital, and my mom is still stable. What I need now is for you to get some rest.”

How do I tell him I’m afraid of going home? Not in the same way I know he is, especially after witnessing his nightmares. I know my father isn’t going to lay hands on me, but there’s more than one way to hurt a person.

Unfortunately, all I’m doing by avoiding going home is delaying the inevitable. I know my father has a problem with me being with Ford. It is pretty easy for me to guess why. It’s the same motivation for everything he does, his image. I’m sure his daughter and stepson being in a relationship does not fit the picture he wants to project to everyone else. It doesn’t matter that we didn’t know they were married, and as far as he knows didn’t even know he was in a relationship with Ford’s mom.

So, I keep my mouth shut and agree to go home. If I’m lucky my dad will be preoccupied at the hospital. I gasp as that thought enters my mind. “I should come with you,” I argue.

Over the last couple of months Ford has managed to tear down all of my walls, and now he can read me like no one else can. “You’re worried I’ll be alone with your dad.”

I shrug, because he’s right. “I don’t think he likes the idea of you and I together.”

A contemplative look comes over his face. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not easily chased off. Nothing is going to take you away from me. Trust me, after the last twelve hours, nothing your dad can do to me scares me.”

My lips purse. I don’t agree with him, but that’s because I know what my dad is capable of. He might not use his fists, but his words hurt pretty fucking bad.

We go out to his truck, and I look around for Shane, but he isn’t waiting for us by the truck. “He’s still sleeping. If you don’t mind coming to get him later you can give him a ride to his car when I’m sure you’re going to come see me at the hospital,” he answers my unspoken question.

I drag the toe of my sneaker across the concrete. “Uhm, my dad took my car last night. Well, he threatened to report it stolen if I left, so I dropped the keys. That’s how I ended up with Shane.”

Ford’s forehead wrinkles. “Huh. I guess I hadn’t given much thought on why you and Shane were there together, or why you didn’t have your car.”

Rubbing his arm, I say, “Of course you didn’t. You had too much going on last night. Still do really. Please don’t worry about this stuff. I can handle my dad.”

It’s a lie. I’m in way over my head, and I fear I’m going to lose the only person who is helping me keep my head above water. My father didn’t get where he is in business without being cutthroat, and I don’t think that I’m immune from his wrath.

We’re mostly quiet on the ride to my house. Ford no doubt is thinking about his mom, and my brain is working overtime trying to think all the thoughts at once. His truck isn’t silent, and practically announces our arrival as it rumbles into my driveway.

He puts the truck in park, then stares off in the distance. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the image of her laying there bloody and unconscious out of my mind.”

I reach out and put my hand on top of his. “What can I do?”

Ford exhales, then slowly turns to face me. “You’re doing it. I don’t think I’d have gotten through last night without you.”

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