Page 16 of Yolo

“Because you left me,” I replied quietly.

“I mean, it wasn’t really that big of a deal,” Joseph grumbled. “It was just for like an hour. We would’ve come back and gotten you.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal?” Dad’s voice started to rise. “My daughter got hit in the head with a fuckin’ boulder, for Christ’s sake. Then, you decide to finish your fucking hike instead of taking her to the emergency room or using that fancy-ass satellite phone to call 9-1-1 like you should have. While she sat there, terrified out of her mind and unable to see to get down on her own, in pain and suffering, and she was bleeding out in her brain. Two strangers had to carry her off that mountain because you were too much of a selfish cunt to do it. When she got here, they said that she was minutes away from dying. She actually coded in the ER when she got here. And you’re wondering why it’s that big of a deal? Maybe if your selfish ass hadn’t left her there and instead gotten her medical care faster, she could fucking see right now!”

My dad’s voice finished on a roar.

“You’re a poor excuse for a man,” my mom said into the stunned silence. “You don’t deserve anyone, let alone my daughter. Now, I suggest you head home and get your belongings.”

“I’m not going home yet.” Joseph snorted. “I still have some business to do here. I’ll get home when I’m ready.”

There was a scuffle, then the sound of my mother’s voice. “I will kill that man before I let him near you again.”

I smiled. “Good.”

“I fucking hate him,” she snarled.

“Good,” I breathed. “Because I do, too.”

Single and not looking. We can go eat, though.

—Bindi to Garrett

BINDI

6 months ago

There was a knock at my door, and I carefully got up, grabbed my cane, and headed for the door.

“Who is it?” I called once I’d made it to the door.

Or, more importantly, once I’d nearly face-planted into it.

I was still getting used to the new apartment.

Today marked the third day that I’d lived there.

“It’s me,” Joseph said from the other side of the door.

My jaw clenched.

This asshole.

This super asshole.

I couldn’t stand him.

I’d moved to Dallas from Albuquerque, and his stupid self had followed me.

It wasn’t endearing.

In fact, I’d say it was getting to stalkerish levels at this point.

I carefully opened the door, putting my body between the gap and said, “What do you want?”

“I came for my check,” he said. “You said you had it.”

I sighed.

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