Page 30 of The Other Side of Apart
My mind rewinds to rough hands ripping my dress, cold air, icy fear. Nick’s hands around my neck, his body pressing me into the bed as he moves over me.
I vomit until my organs threaten to heave out of me, doing nothing to empty my head of memories. When I drop to the toilet, clutching the rim, a sob shoves itself out of me, gasping, frantic. He’s found me. Us. The darkness rolling off him seeps into the bathroom with me, weighing me down, suffocating light and leaving only a decision to be made. But there is no choice. I have to leave. With or without Marcus.
“Mei Li?” a timid voice asks, and my eyes dart up to Poppy standing in the bathroom door, concern on her face. “Oh my goodness, are you okay?”
I swallow jagged fear and half nod, half shake my head.
“How can I help?” She and the dogs watch me, waiting.
But what can I say? I can’t tell her anything about what just happened. I can’t ask her for a ride home, or to stay here for the next four hours until Marcus is done with practice. I can’t tell her that thirty minutes ago, my life was as close to perfect as it has ever been, and it just crumpled under Nick’s presence. All I can do is ask, “Do you mind if I wait here for an Uber?”
Poppy’s warm eyes meet mine. “Let me take you home instead.”
But home is the last place I can go right now. “Actually…can you take me to the Stanford soccer field?”
CHAPTER 15
Mei: Sorry to interrupt practice, but there’s something weighing on my mind. When you said Ghost Hunter’s International wasn’t real, you were joking, right?
Iwhoop to the sky, then spin and run across the soccer field to high-five my teammate, who expertly kicked my amazing pass into the goal. It couldn’t have been more perfect, and all the coaches were watching. “That was INSANE!” I call to him, and he flashes me a grin, running to meet me.
“Stanford’s never seen this duo before,” he says, high fiving me with both hands. “This season’s gonna be unbelievable.”
Riding a high, we run toward center field, and he smacks my arm and points at the stadium gates. “Looks like we’ve already got ourselves a fan.”
My knees lock, jerking me to a stop. Mei is on the other side of the fence, her fingers gripping it. Her face is red and swollen, and I try catching her eye, but she won’t look at me.
Panic sweeps through me, leaving me light-headed, and dread creeps across the grass to yank my feet into motion. Butthe grass is sludge, holding me back from the reason she’s here, looking like she’s falling apart.
The earth pauses in its rotation, smothering the yells and whistles of the scrimmage behind me. I shove through the fog in my brain, easing into a run that turns into a sprint.
I skid to a stop at the fence, gripping the rail to steady myself. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Tears well in her eyes, and her hand goes to her throat. I kick my toe into the chain link, swing myself over it, and pull her into my arms. Her shoulders tremble. “Talk to me.” My voice shakes as I cradle her against me. Her fingers grip the front of my shirt that’s pasted to my chest with sweat. The longer she stays silent, the faster my heart beats until finally, I hold her at arm’s length and duck to meet her eyes. “What is it, Mei?”
“He’s here,” she whispers. “I was walking the dogs and stopped in at the market to get them treats. It was less than five minutes.” She swallows, choking out the next words. “I crossed the street toward campus, and he was there. Just…staring at me.”
“Whoa—hold up. What do you mean? What are you talking about? Who’s here? My dad? What did he say to you? I swear if he?—”
She shakes her head quickly. “No…not your dad. I wish it was him, but it wasn’t. I saw him, Marcus—he was following me. He saw me.” Her voice breaks, and she drops her head, but I catch her chin between my fingers and tilt her head back so she has to look at me.
“Who was following you?” I press.
The answer swims in her eyes, sending ripples of fear through me.
I don’t let go of her. “Did he hurt you?” I search her face, which is definitely swollen but only from tears.
She shakes her head. “I ran to Poppy’s. She brought me here.”
“How? It’s not even possible for him to be here. He’s locked up.”
“It was him,” she chokes. “He found me.”
The night she stood in my room, bloody and bruised, flashes through my mind, and anger lights me up. I curse, letting go of her, my hands on my head as I visually sweep the field, my team—all there in a huddle. With one exception because here I am, once again, dealing with the aftershocks of Nick. Dealing with another mess he’s making in our life.
“I’m calling my dad,” I say, whirling around to face her. “We’re not gonna do this. We’re not gonna run or be afraid and let him?—”
“No—we can’t. I can’t. You know what will happen, Marcus. And now Nick knows we’re here.”
