Page 26 of Fool Me Once

“Go,” he roars, and when the car doesn’t instantly speed away, he leans down a little closer. “Get the fuck off my property!” he yells louder.

The driver stomps on the gas so quickly that I’m surprised he doesn’t burn rubber.

Oncehe’s gone, Smith turns his body toward me. “What the fuck were you thinking, Gemma?”

“I just … I wanted to go to—”

“I told you to take my truck!” he barks, his words dripping with anger.

His body language proves how infuriated he is. Suddenly, invisible walls are closing in on me, and I feel like I’m suffocating. My mind and body have been conditioned to know what comes after a raised voice.

I messed up, and he’s mad.

Smith’s face disappears, replaced with Richie’s.

He’s going to kill me. For running away. For disobeying him.

Spots of white dance in my vision, and my mouth grows dry. “I … I can’t—” Tears fill my eyes, but the spots of white become bigger blobs. “I can’t … please … don’t—”

My words are hardly a cry now, and when he steps toward me … everything else slips away. All I see is white, and my body falls backward.

Fear—it can do some crazy things.

How could I have been that fucking stupid to get that angry in front of her after all she’s been through?

I ask myself that same question over and over again, wanting to punch myself for being so rash when it came to Gemma. I might not know her entire story or every detail of what she’s gone through, but I’ve picked up enough to fucking know that I shouldn’t raise my voice at or around her. Ever.

I was so angry when I saw that car. At first, I was afraid it was her ex, tracking her down. And then I was pissed that she would ride with a stranger instead of just driving my truck. But that’s no excuse for the way I acted. None at all.

Now, she’s shaking in my arms inside my truck.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” I murmur, rubbing my hands up and down her arms, as if that’ll help her stop shivering or some shit.

She’s not shivering because she’s cold. It’s fucking fifty degrees out today, the first week of December. She’s shivering because she’s afraid of me.

She’s. Afraid. Of. Me.

“I promise, you’re safe,” I whisper, tears clouding my vision at the sight before me. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

You dumb fuck. If you hadn’t listened to her dad, you never would have left her, and she would have never gotten with that monster and now have to live her life, fucking scared. You fucking selfish prick. You took off, and you left her vulnerable and brokenhearted. You did that, Smith. You worthless fuck.

The intrusive thoughts don’t stop, and I don’t ask them to either. I deserve every single thing running through my mind. No one knows me better than I know myself. And I fucked up. And everything is my fault.

I run my hand over her hair, pushing it off her forehead. I lean forward to kiss her temple, but I stop myself. I can’t just do shit like that with her. I can’t just expect to pick up where we left off.

I love you. I’m sorry.It’s right there on the tip of my tongue, begging to be blurted out. I wish it could fix everything, but it wouldn’t. She needs so much more than my words, which are too fucking little and too late anyway.

Holding her in my arms, I rock her gently, and once again, her phone buzzes in her pocket. This time, her eyes start to pry open, and she looks up at me, a deep frown on her lips.

“Can you please answer that? I was supposed to be going to my parents’ house.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “But I can’t,” she rasps. “Can you tell my mom that I’m sick and that I’ll come tomorrow instead?”

Nodding, I pull the phone from her pocket and bring it to my ear.

“Hello?” I say, looking down at her to find her big blue eyes on me, watching my every move.

“I must have dialed the wrong number …” There’s a pause before Gemma’s mother speaks again. “No, I didn’t. I checked. So, tell me, who the hell are you, and why do you have my daughter’s phone?”

“Mrs. Jones, it’s Smith Sawyer,” I say, trying to remain as calm as I possibly can. “Gemma was coming to see you, but she’s not feeling very good and asked if I could pass the message along that she’ll come tomorrow instead.”

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