Page 59 of Lost in You

Chapter 31

Ryan

Ican’t believe she walked away from me. I need an explanation. What did I do? I look around. Everyone in the police station is staring. Are they feeling pity? Are they thankful that Hadley Carter is gone and out of their sleepy town?

I could make a run for it, make it back to her car before she does and demand that she take me with her. Beg her to rip up that stupid piece of paper and tell those lawyers to get the hell away from us. We can run, leave Brookfield and never come back. I’m only a few weeks from turning eighteen; surely no one will care. Everything that has happened between us has been because we’re in love, nothing less. She didn’t force herself on me. I welcomed her.

His strong and domineering voice shakes me from my reverie. I turn and look, wishing I hadn’t. His face tells me everything that I need to know. He’s going to make me wish I were spending the night in jail. My dad pushes me toward the door. I try to resist. I try to keep my feet grounded but it’s no use. I look at the desk clerk and wonder if she knows what’s going to happen when I walk out this door. Do they know what kind of man my father is? Right now, even I don’t know, but after seeing him in that room, I have an unhealthy fear of him.

He’s too calm as we drive home. He’s even singing to himself. I can’t hear what he’s singing about, but it seems to keep him happy. I’m tempted to reach over and turn on the radio in his truck, wondering if it even works. I know that turning it on would piss him off. Maybe I should rock the boat while I’m already in for it when I get home. I want to hear music, is that so wrong? I want to hear her voice. I want to be a normal teenager.

My mom is standing in the window when we pull up. She disappears quickly, not opening the door or waiting for us. The enigma that is my parents is really starting to freak me out. I don’t know if it was Hadley who opened my eyes or what, but the way my mom acts is weird and my dad... I never want to be like him.

I try to beat my dad into the house. I want to make it to my room where I feel the safest. He grabs me by the back of the sweatshirt and heaves me across the living room and onto the couch. I hear a pan drop in the kitchen and wonder if she’s watching or whether she’s nervous. Does she know what he’s capable of?

I try to move, but he’s on me before I’m able to defend myself. He presses his knee into my stomach, his other hand clamping down on my throat. I’ve never seen this side of him. The look in eyes is menacing. Deadly.

I try to remove his hand off my throat, but he tightens his grip. I push his face, extending my arm as far as I can. I stretch enough to get him off of me and allow my leg to move and help alleviate some of the pressure on my stomach. His hand slips from my neck, causing him to collapse on top of me. We both grunt from the pressure.

I take a deep breath and choke. The burning in my lungs is making breathing difficult. If I don’t move, he’s going to kill me. I kick and scramble as he tries to pin down my arms. I never knew how strong he was until now. He pushes down on my face, cutting off my air. I gasp and slap at his face, my legs working to get him off of me. Where the hell is my mother?

“If you ever disgrace my name again, I’ll end you.” I know he’s telling the truth. The tone of his voice is enough to drive the point home. His knee grinds into my stomach with such force I feel like I’m going to throw up. It’s now or never. I can’t stay like this or he will kill me.

I raise my knee hard, not once, but twice. He jerks forward, losing his hold on my throat. I cough hard and move away quickly. I look at him, withering on the floor. He’s bent in half, holding himself.

“Ryan?”

I look sharply at my mom. She’s standing there, with a dishrag dangling from her hands, tears streaming down her face. She’s shaking her head, her lower lip trembling. “Dylan’s outside. You should go,” her voice cracks.

“Mom?”

“Go, Ryan. Please go before he hurts you even more.”

I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I nod and run down the hall to my room. My door is already open, my room torn apart. I grab a few pieces of clothing, my phone, money and backpack. I don’t know if I’m coming back here, but I’m hoping to never see his face again. I don’t stop to look at the scene in the living room or even say goodbye to my mother. She allowed this to happen. She allowed him to put his hands on me.

Dylan is a statue in her car. The usually peppiness is missing. I open the door, she looks at me and we both gasp. Her face is tear-streaked black from her make-up. I can’t imagine what I look like. I get in and barely have the door shut before she’s speeding down the road. We don’t talk. The radio doesn’t play. The tension between us is thick. I can feel it radiating off her. She’s been so vocal about Hadley hurting me that she knew this day was going to come. I just didn’t listen. And I’m not ready to accept that we’re done. I know Hadley did what she had to, to get us out of trouble. I only wish she asked me first.

I pull out my iPhone and text Hadley, watching the screen while I wait for the message to say it has been delivered or read. But it doesn’t change. I try again and again. The same result each time. I hate doing this in front of Dylan, but I have no choice. I press Hadley’s name. I need to talk to her. I don’t care what that ridiculous piece of paper said. I’d gladly spend the night in jail if it gives me the answers that I need.

Nothing happens with the call. I try again, nothing. I tap the phone to my head, thinking. Why isn’t my phone working? I shake it and try calling her, nothing. I hit it against my hand, nothing.

Dylan pulls over, but doesn’t shut off the engine. She stares out the window at the open space. Wheat fields are all you can see. If you look long enough, stare hard enough, the sky touches the never-ending fields. It’s a cool illusion when you’re a kid and you’re out here looking. But looking at it now makes me want to run until I can reach the edge where the two connect and hope there’s something better for me out there.

“My dad knows his officer hit you. So does my mom. He’s pissed. You know he doesn’t condone violence at the station. She’s upset, angry. They fought and when your mom called she threw the phone at my dad. I don’t know anything else except that Hadley’s gone.”

“Yeah,” I say, for lack of anything better to add. I’m not sure how to respond or if there’s even a right thing to say.

“You’re coming back to my house. My dad will apologize and take care of things at the station. I know you made the first move or whatever, but that doesn’t give Daniels the right to hurt you like that. He knows better and for him to hit you…” she trails off, wiping more tears from her cheeks. “Anyway, Mom says you're staying with us.”

Dylan puts her car in drive and turns back onto the road, heading toward her house. I never expected I’d be staying with her, or that her mom would react the way she did, but to say I’m thankful would be an understatement. Maybe I can leave when I’m eighteen as planned. Take what money I have saved and buy a bus ticket out of here. That was my plan until I met Hadley and now everything has changed.

Mrs. Ross is standing at the door when we walk in. She takes me in her arms, enveloping me the way a mom should. Dylan joins us and they cry. I don’t understand why they’re both crying. I’m not, but I should be. Maybe this hasn’t sunk in yet, or I need to be away from people. I can feel the ache in my heart getting stronger and know it’s just a matter of time before everything explodes. When she releases us, she pats down my hair, avoiding eye contact. I know she’s staring at my lip. She looks up and smiles as she cups my cheeks.

“Come you two, I made brownies.”

Dylan pushes my shoulder to get my feet moving. The smell of freshly baked brownies makes my stomach growl. I realize I haven’t eaten since the night before, not that I know what time it is now, but I’m starving. We sit across from each other, each with our own plate and a glass of milk. I devour mine, while she picks at hers. I snatch one off her plate before she can slap my hand and stuff it in my mouth. This is the only time I get sweets like this; my mom would never dream of baking anything.

Mr. Ross comes in and sits down across from me. Dylan rolls her eyes at him. She gets up and moves to the sink, taking her coveted brownies with her. Mrs. Ross joins us, choosing to sit down next to me. Mr. Ross clears his throat and lays his hands on the table.

---