Page 116 of Blindly Yours

“Rose, who was that man?” Kara inquires.

“No one,” Rose replies. “He used to be my friend, but not anymore.”

“Did you have a fight with him?” Kara asks. “I once had a fight with Jackie but we started playing together the next day and kinda forgot about it.”

In my peripheral, Rose turns to me. “It was nothing, I promise. My mom sent him to get me, and he was already headed back to the city. And his hand was—”

I raise my palm to interrupt her. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” I nod inconspicuously backward at Kara. She doesn’t need to hear this. “We’ll discuss it later.”

Rose shuts her mouth and sinks further into her seat while Kara continues on, explaining the intricacies of the “fight” she and Jackie had last fall.

I’m doing my best to focus on the road, but all I can see is that asshole’s hand on her thigh. That thigh I’ve gripped and caressed and had wrapped around me so many times in the last month. I hate the sight of someone else touching it.

Especially him.

I saw the skid marks on the road half a mile back. He was pushingninety. On a back road. In the rain. With my girlfriend in the car.

I wanted to shove him to the ground right there in that field. Get some mud on those precious Armani pants of his. But Kara would have seen. I’d never do that to her.

“Dad, when am I getting my MNI?” She asks from behind me.

“YourMRIis next Tuesday.” I grip the wheel tighter as rage continues to course through me.

Rose snaps her head in my direction. “Why does she need an MRI?”

I sigh. “The neurologist is concerned about the ringing in her ears. He said things like that should usually be gone by now, so he wants to run a few more tests.” The truth is, anxiety is eating away at me. The thought of Kara having any kind of permanent damage from her fall is terrifying.

Rose doesn’t say anything, and when I glance at her, I find all kinds of sympathy written on her face. It hurts to look at her right now because what she just did is making me question everything I know about her. Why did she agree to ride with him? Why was his hand on her leg? Why wasn’t she pushing him away? None of it adds up to an innocent explanation, and the suspicious part of me that usually lays low is starting to stir.

But I return my focus to the road and stay silent for the rest of the drive. Kara tells Rose all about the new skills she’s learning at soccer practice, but Rose doesn’t contribute much to the conversation. She just stares out her window. It’s only when we arrive at her building that she finally speaks up. “Can you drop me off in the parking garage?”

I pull into the entrance and punch in the code. The gate opens and Rose points to an empty spot next to the enclosed stairwell.

When I put the truck in park, she shoulders her bag and turns to me in her seat. “Can you get out, just for a moment?”

I start to shake my head because I’m still angry and need some time to sort through what I want to say to her, and also because Kara is tired and needs to get home.

“Please, I just want to explain.” There is an insistence in her expression I can’t deny.

So, I grit my teeth and open my door. “Kara, I’ll be right back.”

Rose climbs out and crosses to the stairwell, where she opens the door and steps inside. I hesitantly follow her, making sure I can see the truck right outside the door’s window.

Rose reaches the first step and turns around to face me. “My mom was supposed to pick me up today, but she got stuck in a meeting, so she sent Malcolm without telling me. He showed up and insisted on taking me home—”

“No one forced you into his car,” I interject. She’s told me all of this already, and I’m tired of hearing it.

She holds her hand up. “Please, let me finish.”

I close my mouth.

“I tried to get an Uber but they were all way too far out. I’d either have to sit alone with him waiting for a driver for an hour or just ride home with him.” She frowns. “I thought about calling you, but I knew you were stressed about this appointment and you needed to focus on the doctor. And I’m really glad you did, now knowing Kara needs more tests.”

“You could have texted me,” I suggest flatly.

“That would have distracted you just the same,” she points out like it’s a valid explanation. But it’s not. Nothing would have convinced me to let her get in that car with him.

“You knew he was a reckless driver.”

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