Page 141 of Dirty Rock

I wasn’t the kind of guy who could handle that sort of shit. Rational thought wasn’t my strong point. I was the opposite of Presley, Big D, and the rest of them. The reality of that made my stomach churn, until Jules turned to me, waiting for something.

Her pretty brown eyes needed me.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I found myself admitting.

A tear fell down her cheek. “Neither do I.”

“I’m here for you, though.”

She nodded gently, swallowing whatever emotion she felt.

“I fucking mean it, Julia Speed.”

“Don’t make me cry, Rhett. I need to stay strong for just a little bit longer.”

She moved to open the door and climbed out. I followed her cautiously, thanking the driver and asking him to stick around as Jules walked up a pathway to a little white, two-storey house. It was thinner, yet more modern than Julia’s home, or my shitty, beat-up blue one. I sighed as I hitched my jeans up to try and find some fortitude, and then I raced after her. If she was about to walk in on something bad, I was going to be there by her side, whether I knew what the fuck I was doing or not.

I loved her, and that love felt protective.

Icoulddo it all, whatever it was, because of her. Because seeing that fucking sadness in her eyes and imaginingnotdoing something about it cut me up inside.

“Hey,” I panted, catching her hand in mine as I came up beside her.

“You can wait in the car if you want,” she offered.

“I’m right where I want to be.”

Another tear fell from the corner of her eye, and I was struggling to think of strong, loveable, laughing Jules showing so much raw emotion like this. She’d shown more in the last few days than I’d seen from her in the three and a half years before.

Was being with me making her… miserable?

The thought was pushed aside before it had time to gain traction, and Jules slipped a key into the black front door. The click of the lock sounded like a bomb going off when she pushed through and stepped inside.

The silence was eerie as I followed her, the only noise being our shoes against the dark wooden flooring. The place smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. Like wax melts or expensive candles that had been left on too long. It was homely, but a catalogue home. One you’d think people would want to see. Not one you’d actually want to live in.

It felt cold.

“Sarah?” Jules called out carefully.

There was no response.

After laying her bag down in the hallway, Jules began to check the place. The living room was empty. The kitchen too.

“Sarah!”

Julia looked at me, and I had no advice to offer other than to point upstairs and shrug. I saw the caution in her eyes.She wasn’t convinced Sarah wouldn’t hurt herself after all. She was worried this time was going to be real.

“I’ll go first,” I offered.

“Maybe I should—”

“I saidI’llgo.”

Without protest, Julia curled her arms over her chest and brought a thumb up to her mouth to chew on. The mental images of that little girl peeking over the window ledge in the car when Bobby Hart found her made my chest ache.

I’m not afraid. I’m never afraid.

“Stay here,” I ordered, my need to shelter her from anything bad taking over.

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