Page 33 of Run to Me
Slamming the bedroom door behind me, I stare at the photos of us Nate plastered all over my closet mirror. In some we’re smiling, and in others Nate is stretching my lips with his fingers. Marching forward, I yank the pictures off the mirror, then gather everything else I plan on taking with me before shoving it all into two bags.
A knock at my door has me jumping back, almost dropping everything. My mom enters, wearing a frown. “I booked you a last-minute flight for tonight. Your uncle will be waiting for you at the airport when you arrive.”
“Will I get to say bye to Nate?”
Her eyes are heavy and she shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He may not understand right now.”
I nod, sliding the straps up my arms. “When do we leave then?”
“I can take you now. That way you have time to check in, and just in case we run into any traffic on the way there.”
“Yeah, okay.” My stomach knots at the thought of leaving without telling Nate how much I love him and how sorry I am for everything. This is the right decision. I know it is. He’ll thank me later. I needed this push to protect him from myself. I was unable to walk away without it, and even now I’m struggling.
“Do this for him.”My mother’s words play in my head as I follow her out the door and load my bags into the trunk.
I will. I’ll do it for him. I’d do anything for him. He’s always given me what I need and now it’s my turn.
I press my cheek to the cold glass window as we pull out of the driveway, and I close my eyes, remembering the moans slipping from his lips earlier. Remembering how good he felt. Remembering how good he tasted. Remembering how I’ll never have that again.
Fourteen
Nate
He left me. I didn’t want to believe it. As soon as my mom told us he was on a plane on his way to uncle Judd’s I ran to his room. His favorite hoodie was missing from the closet. Leftover residue from the tape was stuck to the glass of the mirror where all our pictures last were. Holding my chest and taking painful breaths, I collapse on the bed.
The room blurs out of focus and I lean forward, tears pouring from my eyes. Wretched sounds escape me and a weight rests beside me, a hand rubbing my back.
“It’s going to be okay,” Mom says, not sounding convinced by her own words. “He’ll be back. He’s not gone forever.”
I sob harder, burying my face in my hands. An ugly sensation spreads through my chest and I can feel myself breaking on the inside. How long will it take him to come back and piece me together? Will there even be anything left by then? I need him back now.
“Why?” I cry. “Why’d you make him leave?” She told my dad it was because she wanted to protect him from Bobby after hearingabout him being up for parole. She was worried about his safety, she’d said, but he’d still be joining me at college and we’d have our own place together.
I know the truth, though, and it has nothing to do with his dad. Mom lied. She’s going to keep our secret but probably more for her and Dad’s benefit than ours.
“It’s what’s best right now. You two will be okay, I promise. Being out on the farm with the animals could be good for him.”
I shake my head and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “What if it’s not?”
Her eyes narrow and she takes my hands. “It’s better than him staying here. Than what was happening between you two. You both need some time without each other is all. Be around other people. Make new friends.”
“I have friends, and I meet new people every day.” I shove her hands away. “This is only good for you and Dad, not us.”
“You can still talk to him on the phone. He’s your brother. You two can’t . . . It’s not right,” she whispers.
My throat clogs with emotion and I stand from the bed.
“It’s not your choice to decide what’s right and not right for me. We aren’t actually related. Who cares if we want to be together. We’re adults who are free to make our own decisions.”
“You don’t know what you want right now. You’re still both too young. I know he’s always been a huge influence on you and—”
Anger burns in my veins. “What? If anything, I’ve always been the one to suggest things. He was always too scared to take a chance on anything. Jace wouldn’t even drink a Coke without punishing himself afterward. Did you know he was cutting? Did you?”
Her brow furrows. “What?”
“He was hurting himself every time he thought he broke a rule. Why do you think so many pairs of scissors, nails files, and razors went missing? It was hard to keep him from everything.He always found something.” My gaze shifts to the broken mirror on the dresser.
She slowly stands, her jaw twitching. “You knew all this time?”
