Page 19 of I'm Sorry

“We know,” we say in response to Mama Mallory’s worry.

“I don’t mind having a driver, but a guard? That’s insane.”

“You almost died,” Mama Mallory argues. Junie jumps to her feet, tears brimming and frustration pinging in her tense frame.

“She knows that! Jesus! We all know that! Will you two stop?” Her frustration gets the better of her and it’s clear she can’t help her tone. She slams the remote down on the armrest of her chair, a bowl of popcorn forgotten on the table next to her.

“Juniper!” Mama Mallory scolds.

“No,” Junie says back, pointing her finger. “We are trying to have an enjoyable night after a miserable week and you two just won’t stop! My sister almost died. Died and you just—we’ve been through so much that you just don’t ge—AGH!” She storms off, leaving the room roiling in her wake. I let out an exasperated breath and drop my head back, exhaustion overcoming me.

CHAPTERTWELVE

TRACE

I flexmy fists and inhale as deeply as I can. It’s been two days since the attack on Lennox.How would I have felt if she didn’t—I don’t let myself finish that thought. Thinking about her, my best friend’s girl—my mortal enemy—like that is something I can’t do. I’m not even sure why I am but when I saw that asshole punching her, the other kicking her in the ribs…When I heard her whimper and begging for them to stop as well she could around the rag in her mouth, something inside me snapped and has since triggered a need that I thought I’d long since buried.

People have compared me to her my entire life, and I’ve hated her for it. However lately, I’m learning the lines between love and hate are blurry.

I guess that means for as long as I’ve known her, I’ve loved this girl. But I never let myself give in to those feelings, even acknowledge them. I shouldn’t love her. She’s my competition…The only actual competition I have, but my admiration of her is not something I can push to the side. She is everything I’ve wanted to be on the track. Not only that, but she does it with such grace and respect for herself and others.

It’s fucked up to both hate and love someone for the same reasons…but it’s true.

However, whenever my father mentions how I should be like her, it drives that wedge of hatred into my mind a little deeper every time. Fueling my need to be better than her.

Until I saw her on the ground, blood pooling in a menacing halo around her.

I didn’t care that my father would rather have her on his team than his own son. I didn’t care how deeply my hatred went for her. I didn’t care…I just had to save her.

The bottle of tequila in my hand receives my glare as if it’s wronged me. I’m halfway through it and finding that my knuckles don’t hurt as bad as they did just a few minutes ago. It’s finally kicking in, I guess.

Gently, because I’m not interested in breaking the bottle and wasting even an ounce of alcohol, I set it down on the floor at my feet and sit back in the chair. I’ve already received many texts from my father telling me I’d better be in the house when he arrives home from his trip.

I didn’t win the race this weekend because I wasn’t even there to race. I was sitting in the hospital watching Lennox sleep after the attack, watching over my best friend, so he didn’t fall apart like I wanted to.

As requested, I’m here at the house waiting for my dad, who will be here any minute. If he wanted me sober, he should have mentioned it, because if I’m in this house, I’m never sober. He should know that by now.

He’s just going to tell me he’s no longer going to give me the financial backing to race. That I’m a disappointment and not worthy of carrying on the family legacy.

Worth it because Lennox is alive.

Fucking Lennox. Maybe I’ll one day resent the fact that I’m losing my team, my dream of racing for her, but right now, it is all worth it.

She is the only one who is ever going to make it, anyway. She’s the one who deserves it and thanks to me, she’s alive now to make it there.

I jolt when the front door slams shut, having lost myself to my thoughts. I let my head fall back onto the supple leather of the chair I’ve chosen. He’ll find me in his office when he gets here. I’m doing him a favor. He gives all his finest reprimands between these walls, and this is where the paperwork is. The paperwork I’ll sign to sever the contract we have. That I even have a contract with my father to begin with is ridiculous.

Worth it. Lennox is alive, even if my dreams are dead.I tell myself again.

“Where do I sign?” I ask as soon as I hear his loafers scuff to a stop outside of the solid wood door. My voice is hoarse, strained with the effects of the tequila swimming through my system. Or maybe that’s from the emotion strangling me as I watch my dreams go up in smoke.

“You’re an embarrassment to this family’s name,” he barks, entering the room and propping his hip on the corner of his giant, clunky desk. Everything in this house is grand, chunky, solid, and dark. Much like my father’s soul. I huff a laugh.Chunky soul… I don’t even know what that is, but it’s funny.

“So I’ve been told,” I mumble on a breath as if I’m bored. He pins the full weight of his glare on me. Trace, a few years ago, would’ve pissed himself, dropped to his knees and begged his dad to give him another chance. This Trace…This Trace is jaded.

This Trace is tired of trying to keep him happy and failing.

I sigh, my gaze dropping to my lap when the rolled up papers flop onto my thighs. This is it. I’m officially done as soon as I sign on the dotted line. Am I sort of relieved in a way? As if I’d always known it’d somehow come to this and I’ve just been stressing myself out by anticipating it at every turn, waiting to be the fuck up my dad believes I am.

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