Page 185 of Anger

Blue sighs and looks over at me. “I asked them what caused the scar beneath your right eye.”

My body stills except for the tightening of my grip over the steering wheel. The leather squeaks beneath my hold, the vibration of the tires over the road a loud hum that rises to replace our voices.

“And their answer?”

“They said it was from a weekend away.”

Rolling my neck over my shoulders, I attempt to relieve the tension in my muscles. “And your answer?”

“My answer was the point that I knew the answer better than they did. But that’s all I would say. Your secrets are your own. I won’t betray them. Not even to your friends.”

Surprise rushes in to replace the tension, the relief of it so startling that my breath catches in my lungs momentarily, my heart stuttering for a beat to learn Blue kept my secrets to herself.

Against Tanner and Gabe of all people.

She deserves a fucking trophy for that alone.

My voice is a bare whisper because that’s all I can manage. “Thank you.”

Blue’s hair slides over her shoulder when she peeks my direction. “For what?”

It takes another minute or two for me to find the words I want to say to her. They’re all up in my head, swirling around, anxiety pouring through me because this is another time in my life when I’m afraid to say the wrong thing.

After swallowing hard, I go with the easiest words—the honest answer.

“For showing me I can trust you.”

Silence again, replaced by the vibration of the tires. Blue turns her head to stare out over the road, her fingers tapping against her legs where she still holds them against her chest, the tips of her sneakers hanging over the front edge of her seat.

Fuck, it feels like hours and my mind whispers that I’ve said something wrong again. That I’ll never be more than a fuckup when it comes to how I think.

“You’re welcome,” Blue answers, her voice soft and careful.

We don’t say another word for the rest of the drive, but in both of our laps is the weight of the truth that of all the things we need from each other, trust is the heaviest to carry.

Where both of us have been left jagged and raw by all the people who have fucked us up in life, trust is the balm that soothes our wounds, and may just be what stitches us back together … one whispered secret at a time.

. . .

It’s two in the morning when we pull up to Blue’s family’s house.

Not much to look at, the place is average for the area, a single story, two-bedroom at most that could use some new paint and resurfacing of the broken driveway. But the landscaping is well-kept, the trees trimmed back and the roof free of debris. It’s obvious somebody takes care of the property, unlike most of the neighboring houses that look like they may as well be abandoned.

I stop the car and turn off the headlights as Blue stares at the house. Tension runs through the line of her shoulders, her jaw working like she’s gnawing at the inside of her cheek.

“You nervous?”

She drums her fingers on the armrest of the door. “Not really.”

Watching her jaw working harder, I mention, “You sure? Because if you chew at your cheek much longer, you might not have enough left to stitch back together.”

She rolls her eyes and looks my direction.

“At least let me call Kane before we go inside.”

Lifting my eyes over her shoulder, I cock a brow. “Not sure how that’ll help.”

“It will alert him,” she explains.

---