Page 271 of Rock Me All Night
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The drive isdark and quiet. Somewhere around Malibu, Drew turns away from the main road. After ten minutes of twists and turns, we stop on a mountain top.
Drew gets out of the car. He pulls a hoodie from the backseat, unzips it and slings it around my shoulders.
"This is where I came the other day. When I was trying to think." He takes my hand and walks me toward the canyon. "Didn't help. I was still going out of my mind."
I take a look around. We're on top of one of the canyons in Malibu. The only light is from the moon and the stars. It's enough to make out the rocky scenery.
"About what?" I ask.
"About how I should have been there." He squeezes my hand. "How if I had been around more, you wouldn't have had to hurt yourself."
"That's not true." I pull my hand back to my chest and pull the hoodie a little tighter. "And I don't want to hear you saying things like that. I don't need to add your guilty conscience to the list of shit I have to deal with."
It's dark, but I can still make out his eyes. They're serious, intense.
"Okay." He shifts his weight. "You sure you want to know every ugly thing about me?"
"Positive."
"It happened when I was about seventeen. After my parents got divorced. I was relieved. Finally, I wouldn't have to see them pretend to like each other. But Willow took it so hard. She was miserable and she ran off with—" He lets out a sharp exhale. His hands curl into fists. "The asshole was no good. He hurt her. Hit her. And worse."
His eyes are on fire. His posture is defensive. I slide my arms around his waist.
He stiffens. "She couldn't see it. Thought it didn't mean anything. That he loved her. She was only fifteen. She couldn't help it. But I hated myself for letting her run off with him. I found the guy and beat him within an inch of his life. Broke my hand. Couldn't play the guitar for two months." His voice drops. "Almost killed him. I will if I ever see him again."
"You defended your sister. There's nothing ugly about that."
"It wasn't defense. She was safe. I wanted to make him hurt."
I stare back at Drew. I'm not too keen on violence, but it's hard to fault him for beating the guy who abused his sister.
I run my hand through his hair. "Why did you stop?"
"I don't know. He was a big guy and should have had the upper hand, but he went limp. Stopped fighting back."
"You couldn't do it?"
"Maybe. Or maybe my hand hurt too fucking bad. Or maybe I had enough sense to realize someone was gonna call the cops. It wasn't mercy. Sure as shit wasn't my conscience." His hand slides into my hair, tilting me so we're eye to eye again. "If anyone ever hurt you like that I’d kill him."
"You threatened to kill a guy for grabbing my ass. I can only imagine what you’d do if someone actually hurt me."
"Anytime someone causes you pain, not just that way—I want to kill them.” His gaze goes to the ground. “I keep hurting you. I hate myself for it."
"Drew-"
“Let finish.” His expression gets intense. "I know you think I'm overprotective. Maybe I am. The last six months or so, I've been trying to protect you from me. I wanted you all this time, Kara. For so long. But I was sure I'd only hurt you."
I swallow hard.
"I've hurt you a lot already."
Tension builds between my shoulder blades. I don't know what he's saying. I don't know how to respond. So I lean closer. I hold him tighter. With my head against his chest, I can hear his heartbeat. It's steady and strong.
"I mean it every time I say it. I don't want to hurt you." He holds me tighter. "But it's going to take a while for me to figure this relationship thing out."
"Okay."
