Page 136 of Wild Card
My chest cracked. “Tell him to let me rot. I’m not worth the trouble.”
The deputy’s movements faltered a beat before he reached past me to pull open the door and guide us outside. “I’ll let you tell him yourself. Seems only fair.”
The walk to the sheriff’s cruiser, getting pushed into the back seat next to Jett, and the ride to the jail were a blur. Jett talked shit most of the way there, but I didn’t register most of it.
I was too busy spinning out.
I’d really done it this time. Really fucked up beyond repair.
“I’m going to lose him,” I whispered.
Jett laughed low and quiet. “Good. I hope he dumps your ass, and you’re left with nothing, you pig fucker.”
The deputy turned a glare on us through the protective mesh between the seats. “Quiet back there. Don’t give me a reason to file more charges.”
“Like what?” Jett challenged. “You gonna charge me for telling the truth?”
“Just shut it,” the deputy growled.
But Jett didn’t have to say a word for me to hear what he was thinking. Dalton would see me as a liability, and rightfully so. He’d realize he couldn’t be sheriff and be my boyfriend, and he’d make the choice I always knew he’d have to make.
He’d walk away from me, just like everyone else in my life.
I’d be alone. Just me and the dogs.
But Jett was wrong. I wouldn’t have nothing. I’d have the memory of Dalton’s warmth, his smile, his rough kisses and soothing words. I’d have a glimpse of the life I could have had if I hadn’t ruined everything.
No wonder people always left me.
I was useless. Less than nothing.
Trash. Just like Leo said.
And Dalton deserved so much more than that. He deserved everything he wanted in life. The love and support of agoodman by his side. Someone who wouldn’t hold him back, but would help him move forward.
My throat tightened, and my body flashed from hot to cold to hot again.
My sinuses burned with the tears I refused to let fall.
I wasn’t a little kid anymore. I wasn’t being unfairly abandoned. I didn’t have the right to beg for forgiveness, as I had the night the social workers took me away.
“I’ll be better. I promise!” I’d wailed. “I won’t be a bother!”
My parents had barely looked up, zoned out on the sofa, as a social worker tugged me away.
“It’s not your fault, sweetie,” she’d said.
But I’d known she was wrong. If I hadn’t stopped going to school because I didn’t want to walk, if I hadn’t gone next door to ask for food, maybe then my family wouldn’t have sent me away.
I hadn’t understood that time. Or the next. But by the time I ended up with the Forresters, I was a little older. My foster mom told me that my parents had been sick and unable to care for me. That it wasn’t my fault it happened. And I’d believed her.
But deep down, there’d always been a voice telling me that I could have tried harder, could have done better, could havechangedthe outcome.
Today, that voice got louder. Because I’d done this to myself.
And Dalton had every right to walk away from me.
CHAPTER 33
