Page 38 of Pretty Broken Things

“Whatever you need. I’m always going to have your back,” I promise.

He reaches out with the hand I’m not holding to cup the back of my head and pull me toward him for a kiss. We’ve had some heated kisses in the last couple months, but this one is sweet and full of gratitude. It’s over quickly, but rather than pull away he touches his forehead to mine, and takes a moment to breathe me in.

I do the same, because I can’t shake the feeling that my time with him is running out. Maybe it’s just anxiety rearing its ugly head. I pull back, and force a smile, that feels more like a grimace, and open the door. “Go see your mom, I’ll swing by soon.”

“How are you going to get there if your dad doesn’t give you back your car?” he asks.

I shrug. “I’ll use one of the ride shares or call a taxi. I’ll take care of it.”

Jumping down from the cab, I notice the curtains in the front window swinging. That ball of stress in my gut starts to churn faster, but I keep the smile-grimace on my face and wave to Ford as he pulls away so he can focus on his mom.

Before I open my front door I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. I’m not surprised to see my dad waiting in the foyer for me as I enter.

“Where have you been since you left the hospital?” he demands.

An incredulous laugh escapes me. “Really? You care now? Why? You’ve literally not given a shit about me since mom left, but now you care? Give me a break.”

I don’t wait for him to answer and start climbing the stairs up to my room. I’ve imagined this conversation thousands of times, but I always pictured it feeling more satisfying than it does.

Of course he doesn’t follow me up to my room. That would require effort and follow through, two things my father is incapable of when it comes to me. My worry for Ford, and the anxiety over what my father is going to do to keep us apart takes a back seat to my exhaustion. I barely make it up onto my bed before I succumb to the need to sleep.

The sun is high overhead by the time I am shaken awake. I rub a hand over my eyes, and grumble, “What time is it?”

“Close to one. You needed to sleep.”

“Shane? How did you get in my house? And what are you doing in my room?”

“I called and texted but you didn’t answer. Then I rang the doorbell, but still nothing. Ford told me what the code to the door is, and I let myself in. You need to get ready really quick and come with me.”

I bolt upright. “Is it Ford’s mom? Is she okay? How is he?” All my questions come out in a rush as I start frantically running around my room searching for, I’m not sure what. I stop moving and take a couple deep breaths.

Shane stands in front of me with his hands out in front of him like I might need to be restrained. “Ford is fine. Your dad might not be if you don’t hurry. They’re arguing already, and the tension is mounting. I convinced him to take a walk and I would come get you. He’s not very happy with this plan though. He would rather keep you out of it.”

That makes sense. “Yeah, he’s a bit overprotective isn’t he?”

“Beats me. I’ve never seen him with anyone the way he is with you. This is a whole new Ford. He is very protective of you. Fanatically so. But, as much as he wants to keep you out of this, I’d like to keep him out of jail, and I fear he’s one more snide comment from your dad away from knocking him out.”

I let that image percolate for a moment. My lips twitch as I picture my dad’s smug face transform to shock when imaginary Ford lands a punch.

Shane shakes his head and chuckles. “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me? But, I don’t want Ford to end up behind bars. As satisfying as hitting my dad would be, he’s not worth it.”

A bit more awake, my mind clears enough for me to grab a change of clothes from my dresser, and some clothes for Ford from the drawers I cleaned out for him. Those I hand to Shane, because it would not be a good idea to call more attention to why I am able to have his clothes with me.

Shane looks around my room with a little more scrutiny. “You guys really have been living together for the last couple months, haven’t you?”

“You know we have.”

“Yeah, but seeing it is a little different. He’s different, but it’s good. I’ve never seen him this open. Please don’t hurt him. He’s more fragile than people think.”

“I can’t promise he won’t get hurt, but I will promise you that I’ll always do what I think is best for him.”

* * *

We makeit to the hospital in a little over half an hour. My hair is still wet and dripping down my back because I was in a rush to leave. Shane is driving, because as far as I know my dad still has my car keys. I pull down the visor and try and put on a little bit of make-up on our way to the hospital.

“You don’t need that,” he comments, glancing at me sideways while he speeds down the highway.

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