And those tears? They make me want to hit Logan all over again.
“What happened?” Mia demands as she races down the stairs from the second floor as the rest of the crowd stays quiet, anxious to see what happens next.
“I’m sure Theo will catch you up,” I tell her, ignoring everyone else around us. “I’m taking Ash home. Can you drive Blake?”
Theo answers for her. “We’ll take care of her.”
“Good.”
I guide Ash to my truck, praying she gives me the chance to make this okay.
Because I need us to be okay.
I need it more than anything.
59
ASHLYN
“I need you to tell me we’re okay,” Colt growls from behind the steering wheel.
Everything happened so fast. I’m still reeling. I can’t believe Logan said those things to me. I can’t believe Colt punched him for it. I can’t believe I’m sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, and we’re flying down the road while the angry clouds in the sky look ready to burst.
“Talk to me,” he begs. I glance at his hands and find them throttling the steering wheel as little rain droplets start hitting the windshield.
Split-splat.
Split-splat.
He flicks on the wipers, and looks at me again, his expression painted with fear, but I’m too overwhelmed to register it.
It’s weird. Being here again. On this same road. So much has changed in such a short period of time. But it’s funny. How easily a little thing like rain against a windshield can imprint on your memory, reminding me of the last time we were here.
Me in the passenger seat of his truck. The rain pouring down. The need in the pit of my stomach. The frustration oozing from the driver’s side.
I remember all of it.
And it’s eerily similar to tonight.
“Ash,” Colt prods, glancing my way before turning his attention back to the road.
“Pull over,” I whisper. My voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the pitter-patter of rain, but somehow he hears me.
“Ash-–”
“Pull over, Colt.”
The tires crunch on the gravel on the side of the road as Colt follows my request and shoves his truck into park, his head hanging in defeat. As the heavy, dark clouds release their moisture, the rain cuts through the headlights shining in front of us, causing slashes along the road. It’s mesmerizing. Hypnotic. Cathartic, almost. I soak it up as the adrenaline from tonight seeps out of me.
I’m not sure how long we sit like this. In silence. The only sound coming from the rain, and the occasional lightning strike in the distance. But I need it. A moment to register what just transpired. An opportunity to acknowledge that Colt and Logan’s relationship will never be the same. A minute to grasp the fact that Colt put everything on the line. For me.
“Don’t hate me, Ash,” he whispers.
The pain in his voice slices through my memory of what happened tonight, and I tear my gaze from the storm outside. He looks so distraught. So torn up. His right hand is bruised and bloody, digging into his thigh. Like he wants to reach for me, but is holding himself back.
Why is he holding himself back?
I keep my touch gentle as I grab his hand and examine his busted knuckles in the glow of the dashboard, fighting the numbness from spreading any further. “You shouldn’t have hit him. He wasn’t worth it.”