Page 127 of Past the Broken Bridges

“I amnotgetting into a truck with him.”

Nodding slowly, I let out a breath. “I get that. I don’t really want to ask Banks for much right now either, but it’s our best shot at getting home. Let me just go make sure Dawson’s okay, and then we’ll figure it out from there. Deal?”

Reluctantly, she nods, crossing her arms and staring down at the ground.

When I turn toward Dawson, he’s already walking awayfrom the guys who call out to him with profanity. He tucks something into his pocket as he makes his way back to the truck, nearly tripping over his feet.

Right before he reaches the side door, one of the guys says, “Marco is always watching.”

A nervous look crosses Dawson’s face as he nods bleakly at them, touching his pocket and whatever he put inside it.

Jogging over, I call out to him. “Wait up, Dawson.” He stops, nearly toppling over again but catching himself on the bed of the pickup. When I get a better view of his face, I gape. “Are you okay?”

His eyes are sunken in and red, his lips are chapped, and his face is a strange pale color that not even mine got at my very worst. “What are you doing here, Sawyer?”

I point behind me. “Dixie and I were invited by someone. We were actually just leaving. Is Banks with you?”

Dawson straightens, his eyes moving to my friend in the distance, and then he hunches over. “No. I borrowed his truck for the night.”

He borrowed…? There’s no way Banks would have let him drive in this condition. “Does Banks know you took it?”

His words are barely understandable when he replies. “I know wherePaxtonkeeps the keys. It’s the least he could do for me.”

My brows pinch, the name stirring something in my chest. “Paxton?” Then I realize the other tidbit of information is a little more important than the name I haven’t heard in a long, long time. “Wait. Youstolehis truck?”

He snorts, a dark look twisting his face. “Is it stealing if you’re friends?” he questions. “And you don’t even know the first name of the guy you’re fucking, do you?”

I cringe at the hostility in his tone. “That’s not…”Choosing to brush off his crudeness, I sigh. “You shouldn’t be driving. Why don’t you let Dixie drive us back?”

His eyes go back to the brunette, softening a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t want her to see me like this.”

I look to Dixie, who’s doing her best not to pay us any attention. “Dawson, I don’t know how to drive. I never got my license.”

Thankfully, he’s too high to look judgy. Only surprised, which is reasonable. Most twenty-one-year-olds can drive.

Putting my hand on him, I lift a finger. “Give me one second. Please don’t go anywhere.”

Jogging back over to Dixie, I say, “He can’t drive himself. He’s going to need us. He took Banks’s truck without permission anyway, so I don’t want anything to happen to it.”

Dixie stands straighter, her eyes moving over to Dawson to study him. Whatever she sees, she doesn’t like. “No,” she says, to my surprise. “I don’t want to keep doing this. He needs to figure things out himself without one of us saving him.”

Normally, I’d understand. But I can tell he’s in a particularly bad state of mind tonight. “You know I can’t drive. It’d be safer if you took the truck—”

“No,” she repeats, standing her ground. “I’m sorry, Sawyer, but I’m not doing it. Maybe he needs something to happen for a reality check.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She pulls out her phone. “I’m getting an Uber. Are you coming with me or not?”

Nervously, I bite my nail as I look at Dawson, who’s walking around to the driver’s side. It doesn’t give me a lot of opportunity to think about my choices.

“Shit,” I curse. I have seconds to decide, and based onthe determination on Dixie’s face, she’s not going to break. “I can’t let him go alone.”

Dawson gets into the truck.

Quickly reaching into my pocket where I tucked some money, I pass it to her for a ride home. “Please, please, please let me know when you get back to your dorm. I’m sorry, Dixie. But I can’t let him drive.”

Dixie gapes at me and calls out, “You can’t drive, either!”

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