Page 101 of Jerk
Hannah’s hand comes to my cheek, the heat of a million suns coming with it. “Please,” she repeats.
“Uh, guys?” Krystal calls again as another car honks.
“Fine. We’ll go.” I step on the gas, passing the line into Paradise Hill. “But I’m coming with you.”
She doesn’t protest as I head into The Hill, turning towards Paradise Row. She’s still quieter than usual when we pull up to her cobblestoned driveway, her eyes on the castle she calls home.
My hand moves to her leg, and she jumps. “You don’t have to go in, Hannah.”
The clouds close in on us, blocking the moon like a warning. Nothing good happens beyond those doors.
“I do.” She doesn’t move my hand. She doesn’t make a snippy remark. She just nods, like she’s convincing herself.
My hand grips her thigh as she stares at me with that look again. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Following Hannah to her door feels surreal. Like we’ve finished some fucked up date and I’m taking her home. What role do I play here? I’m not her boyfriend. Hell, we’re not even friends.
Hannah stops when we get to her door.
Then she reaches for my hand.
Her small hand fits into mine like the perfect hockey glove, my body temperature rising. The feeling I had before comes rolling back like a wave in a hurricane. That swirl in my gut. That nausea. It was there at the parties she attended. It was there on campus. It was there in my room.
I give her one last chance to back away, her palm sweaty in mine. “You sure about this?” But she’s already turning the handle.
Hannah
“Miss Hannah.”As usual, Carrie spots me the minute I enter our foyer. She’s wearing a denim jacket with her apron off, telling me she’s finished for the night. “You’re home. It’s late.”
Her eyes move around my frame, and it’s only then that I realize I haven’t changed.
I look at Rye, who hasn’t said anything about my appearance all night. Sure, I tried to doll myself up beforehand, but navigating that weird tunnel didn't help. He looks back at me, that intense stare sharpening. It’s not repulsion. It’s not hate. It’s… something else.
“Are they awake?” I ask Carrie, so very aware of my hand in Rye’s.
It's hard to believe that weeks ago we were at each other’s throats because right now, he’s giving me the confidence I need.
“Your father just returned from Cairo,” Carrie says.
A hammer lands on my heart, my last night here flickering in my head. That poker in my father's leg. The scowl on his face. The hatred in his eyes.
“And my mother?”
Carrie looks at me with the same look she always does. Concern. Worry. But when her eyes move to Rye standing next to me, that expression softens. “She’s in the solarium.”
When I move my dirty sneakers towards it, she stops me, a hand on my shoulder. “Your father is on a phone call in his office.”
Taking a second, I remind myself and Carrie, “I’m not here for him.”
Moving to the solarium, Rye squeezes my hand, calming the frantic beat of my heart. It's crazy how safe I feel with him by my side. His tall shadow hovers over mine as we move down the corridor.
When we pass the office, my grip on Rye's hand tightens as my father’s eyes lock with mine. Phone to his ear, he looks likehe’s pounded back a few hard drinks. Glossy eyes. His hair shiny but no longer slicked back. His tie hangs loose off his neck, the vein in it getting bigger by the second.
But I'm not here for him.
I have to get my mother out of here. Maybe showing her how strong I am, how powerful I can be, will get her on my side. If Krystal and I can work together at SOL, my mom and I can defeat our monster. She needs to know that.
“Go ahead,” Rye says, his grasp on my hand loosening. “I’ll talk to your father.” He turns towards my father's office, my fingers lingering in his hold. "Go get your mother."
