Page 42 of The Wrong Drive-
I eye Em as I slip past her with the tree and stand, Gunner staying close to me. He can feel my sanity slipping, too. The sense of impending doom is already heavy on my mind. I was worried about killing her and now, those worries are closing in. Now, I may just wake up and she be gone.
Like Thomas.
I focus only on my footsteps, counting them as I walk to the house. Maybe I’ve been deceiving myself since she showed up. I have a sick feeling of how this is all going to end for me. But still, Em has awakened the part of me that I thought died with Thomas…
The human side of me—the side of me that abhors everything I’ve become. The side that wanted a picket fence, a pretty wife, and yard full of kids. I’ll never have it, and I know that. I don’t deserve it, anyway. I glance back at Em, trudging behind me in silence.
I’m so fucking sorry, Em.
Chapter 18
Emersyn
I don’t knowthat much about PTSD, but I heard the panic in Turner’s voice as he shouted for Gunner. The response from his dog nearly moved me to tears as he sprinted to the barn, like he was suddenly on a mission—with more urgency than he trailed me in the woods. HeknewTurner needed him.
Now, even as I string popcorn on fishing line Turner gave me, working with what little I have to decorate, I can’t shake the strange shift in Turner. He’s got a strange, distant look in his eyes, and it’s more unnerving than anything I’ve faced thus far.
Especially as he sits on the couch, still in his parka.
“Are you hungry?” I ask him as I finish my string of popcorn and stand to my feet.
“No,” he answers me flatly, his eyes focused on the fire.
“Okay,” I say quietly, threading the pitiful decoration around the Christmas tree he set by the door for me. I’m regretting everything about having him get it for me. I know it triggered whatever happened this afternoon, and I feel awful for it. At least hot and cold Turner looked less dead inside than this version—even him up in the room was less terrifying thanthisversion.
When I finish, I approach him cautiously. “Aren’t you hot in that?” I gesture to his coat.
He shakes his head, and stands to his feet, towering over me. “I’m going to bed.”
“It’s only seven o’clock,” I reason, following him into the kitchen. He reaches to the cabinet above the fridge, pulling down a new bottle of prescription sleeping pills. I purse my lips as he heads down the hallway, noting his hands shaking.
“Turner, wait,” I call after him, jogging to catch up as Gunner follows. I can’t let him go up there alone. I have a feeling he might not come back down. “Please.” I grab his hand, tugging hard at him when he doesn’t stop.
“Let me go. I just want to sleep for a while.”
“Don’t go,” my voice wavers, and he finally turns back around to face me, his eyes no longer hardened like always. I see raw, gut-wrenching pain in them, and every fucking doubt I’ve ever had about him slips away.
“I’m averybad person, Em,” he rasps. “I’ve done things that no one ever should.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him, reaching for his coat. I unzip it, pushing it off his shoulders. “I don’t care what you’ve done.”
“You should,” he counters as I tug it the rest of the way off, forcing the bottle of pills out of his hand. They clatter to the floor, disappearing under the fabric of his parka. “What’re you doing?”
“You’re sweating,” I breathe out, lifting the hem of his shirt.
“I’ll be fine,” he argues, but his voice is husky now.
I stand on my tiptoes, and he lets me pull it the rest of the way off. I take in his hard chest, brushing my fingertips over his skin, dipping to the snap on his snow pants. I undo it, feeling his erection beneath his sweatpants.
“Em,” he groans. “You don’t…” His voice trails off as I kneel, freeing him and brushing my lips against its tip. He sucks in a sharp breath, as I run my tongue around it, catching the precum. I take his cock into my mouth, the fullness sending a jolt ofarousal through my body. “Stop,” he says, nearly at a whisper. “Stop.”
I do as he asks, ignoring the pang of rejection in my chest. “I just wanted to make you feel better.”
He grabs my elbow and lifts me to my feet. “I know.” His eyes are painfully soft as he kicks the rest of his pants off. “But let’s do it right. If anyone’s getting on their knees, it’s me.” Turner leans down and take my mouth possessively, his hand wrapping around my neck.
We stumble backward, my back hitting the wall. He strips off my sweatshirt and unhooks my bra, letting my breasts drop free. He palms them as he kisses his way down my jaw, and I hurriedly undo my jeans, shoving them and my underwear down my hips.
“So fucking eager,” he breathes into my neck. “I don’t understand you, Em.”
