Page 68 of Things I Wish I Said
When I glance back to the window again, Chex Mix girl is clutching her face.
I hurry onto the porch, my stride eating up the distance as I close in on the French doors.
I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do or say once I get there, all I know is I need to do something.
I grip the door handle as her boyfriend grabs her arm and starts yanking her from the room. Even as I fling it open, I know this is probably stupid or reckless. Maybe both. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting him put another hand on her.
By the time I burst into the kitchen, he has a fist in her hair and he’s dragging her toward the hall while she screams.
I can’t let him get her alone.
“Stop!” My voice echoes in the cavernous kitchen, startling even me.
He swings his gaze around, but he doesn’t release her, and when she glances up at me, I suck in a breath. The skin below her cheekbone is broken. A trickle of blood slides down the side of her face, the skin mottled and bruised.
“Who the fuck are you?” he sneers.
The girl shakes her head, warning me off, but I ignore her.
“Leave her alone,” I say, my voice shaking.
Her boyfriend tips his head back and laughs before he shoves her into the island hard enough I can hear the air whoosh from her lungs.
She falls to her knees, softly keening and wheezing for breath as I hurry to her side, bending down to try and help her. “Come with me,” I say. “I’ll take you home.”
“Oh, she’s not going anywhere unless it’s with me.”
A shadow falls over me, and I know it’s him, but I won’t back down. Not now. He’ll have to kill me first, and if I can survive six months with cancer, it’ll take a hell of a lot more than a backhand.
Chapter sixteen
GRAYSON
I flick the ashoff the tip of my cigarette while I sit on Kip’s doorstep, trying to forget the feel of Sinclair’s lips against my own. An hour ago, I decided it’s a lost cause. Even Hannah’s endless droning on about her plans for the summer aren’t enough to burn the memory from my brain.
I shake my head and take another drag of the cigarette, wishing for something stronger, once again drawn back to thoughts of Ryleigh. The feel of her smooth skin hot beneath my fingertips, her sweet scent, the taste of her lips.
I never should’ve gone there with her
Add it to the list of ways I’ve fucked up.
I slide my phone from my pocket and note the time as Hannah blabs on about how sad she’ll be when everyone parts ways for the fall while I picture Sinclair’s stricken face after I left her. The thought of her standing alone on the dance floor or aimlessly wandering around the party looking for a familiar face tears my stomach to shreds.
Which is precisely the problem.
The last thing I need is to get attached to someone else who will leave.
Maybe the kiss was a wake-up call.
Either way, leaving her was a dick move. She’s in a strange house with no friends, and no idea how the hell to even get home. I need to find her, tell her I’m sorry.
I stub my cigarette out on one of the concrete steps as I try to come up with a way to bail on Hannah without being a complete and utter asshole.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?”
I glance over to find her staring.
I take in her clear blue eyes and the way her hair shines under the moonlight. Hannah is hot, no doubt about it. Most guys my age would jump at an opportunity to hook up with her, but as my gaze scans over her right now, I find her lacking. Everything about her is too perfect, a little too artificial, and I can’t seem to find the appeal.
