Page 37 of Sunshine
“I’ll go. You stay here with Izzy.”
“But—”
“It’s late and I don’t need to worry about the both of you. Just stay put.” There’s no way I’m arguing about this, and I open the front door.
“Okay, but Dylan…” Daisy nibbles her lip then releases it with a pained look. “She’s… She’s at Wade’s place.”
“I’ve got it,” I tell her, remembering at the last moment not to slam the door behind me as a rage-fueled kind of relief hits me.
Poppy needs me. She’ll always be my problem.
And also… Wade better not have hurt her.
My muscles twitch as I retrace the short drive to Wade’s house. As I crest the final rise, my headlights illuminate the road ahead and land on the small, dark silhouette of Poppy sitting in the ditch, her arms wrapped around her knees. A memory from twelve years earlier rushes in and I think about the night I found her in almost the exact same position, a party thumping in the house behind her, Poppy sobbing on the street after Wade broke up with her in front of her entire class.
I resist the urge to go straight to his front door and beat the shit out of him, and instead pull my truck to the side of theroad. Poppy finally looks up, squinting as the headlights fade to darkness, but when I get out of the car, she groans quietly and drops her forehead onto her knees.
I crouch in front of her and slip my hand under her chin, gently raising her face and cradling her jaw as my thumb sweeps over her cheekbone.
“Hey.”
Her eyes are rimmed with red, her milky cheeks are blotchy, and her cherry lips are pink and swollen. Still, she finds the energy to scowl at me. “What are you doing here?”
“You called.”
“I calledDaisy.”
“You called,” I say again.
Her mouth curls up on one side and she swipes her nose with the back of her hand.
“What did he do to you?” Only the thinnest thread of self-control keeps my voice even. I don’t want to push her when she’s fragile, but I need to know how hard to hit the guy.
“Nothing,” she says, and at my quiet growl, she rolls her eyes. “Seriously. We had a drink and I…changed my mind about the whole thing. I told himnoand he kicked me out.”
She’s not hurt. Thank fuck. Releasing a relieved breath, I press a hard, grateful kiss to her forehead, then slide my arms under her legs and around her back and lift her.
“What are you—”
“Shush.” I carry her to the passenger side of the truck. “Open the door for me?”
She laughs with a slight shake of her head as she pulls on the handle, and I settle her onto the seat before fastening her seatbelt.
“You don’t have to do this,” she says. “I’m still mad at you.”
“You have every right to be,” I reply. “And you can tear me a new one when I get back.”
“Back from where?”
I ignore the question. “Stay here.”
And then I slam her door.
I jog to Wade’s front door, but it feels like a lifetime before I’m thumping a closed fist on the gray timber. He opens it with a blank expression that morphs into a scowl, and when he tries to close the door on me, I throw out an arm to stop it from swinging closed. Wade might be wide in the shoulders but he’s a head shorter than me, softer in the middle, and nowhere near as strong. Plus, I’m fueled by unadulterated fury. I feel like I could flatten a football team.
“You left her sitting in a fucking ditch because she wouldn’t let you touch her?”
“Fuck off.” Wade shoves at the door again, but I lean into it harder, and he gives up. “It’s none of your business and this is my property. Get lost before I call the cops.”
