Page 80 of Haunted Love

The shakiness returns to her voice. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

“You can and you will,” I tell her. “Now, what about those heels? Are you still wearing them?”

“Yes.”

“Take them off. I know it feels wrong, but if you need to run, I want you to be sure in your footing. You can’t risk tumbling. Take them off and keep them hidden in the bushes with you.”

The line goes quiet, and I can only assume that she’s taking her heels off.

“I—” she sucks in a terror-filled breath.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?”

She remains silent.

“Is he there?”

An almost inaudible squeak falls from her lips, and I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white as I fly closer toward the college. “You’re going to be okay,” I promise her. “Don’t make a sound. Just listen to my voice. I’m nearly there.”

She sniffles in response, and a piece of my soul disintegrates into ash. “Shhh, baby. Put your thumb on the end of the pen so it doesn’t slide through your fingers if you need to use it. Hold it tight.”

She whimpers, and I realize I have to say something to keep her grounded and keep her from freaking out. She needs to be calm and in control in case it comes down to fighting for her life. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Aspen. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do, but there’s just something about you that drives me insane. We’re like fire and ice, Birdy. The second you look at me, my hackles are up, and I’m just waiting for the day that you realize I could never be enough for you.” I swallow hard, never realizing how vulnerable I would feel after admitting this. “You were right yesterday. I am a fucking coward, and when I sank into you at Cherry, it was so much more than just a quick fuck.”

She sucks in a breath, and I cringe, needing her to keep as quiet as possible. “You don’t know how fucking badly I wish I could give you everything you’ve always wanted. I hate hurting you and constantly pulling away. You’re so fucking beautiful, Aspen. Even before any of this started, I’ve always thought that, and I’ve always wanted so much for you. I want to protect you and see you get the whole fucking world, and if I’m completely honest, I think that’s part of the reason I fight with you so much. I need you to see that I’m not good enough, and when we’re screaming at each other, it keeps me from saying something I know I shouldn’t. It keeps me from admitting just how fucking badly I want you.”

“Izaac.”

Her tone is barely a whisper, just a single confirmation that she truly hears me.

“I’m almost there, baby. Just hang in there.”

“Where are you, Pretty Girl?” I hear a voice say. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. I know you’re in here. I just want to play for a minute.”

FUCK!

I hear as she takes a shaky breath, and I have to silence myself as I speed around the corner, almost losing control of the fucking car. Two more fucking streets and I’ll be there.

She’s going to be okay. She’s got the pen, and she’s ready to strike. She’s a fighter. She’s not going to let anything happen.

“You know, when I’m with you . . . I don’t know how to describe it, Birdy,” I tell her, swallowing over the lump of fear in the back of my throat as her whimpers start gaining traction and getting louder, threatening to give her away. “I know it started as just sex, but I think you know it’s so much more than that. When I touch you . . . fuck. I’ve never felt anything like it, Aspen. There’s something about you that has me on my fucking knees. You’ve got me hooked, and I’m not even close to being ready for you to walk away from me. How fucking selfish is that?”

I fly past Joe’s Bar, taking the most natural route toward Aspen’s apartment complex, and the second I hit the residential area, I turn down the first street, just as she told me she did. I fall silent, my eyes so fucking wide as I start searching for the house with the boarded-up windows, but I see him instead.

The asshole puts on a show, glancing back at my car before continuing to innocently make his way down the street as though he was just out for a midnight stroll instead of trying to rape my fucking girl on the side of the street. Then as I barrel toward him, pushing my Escalade to its fucking limits, I see the bush behind the white picket fence—the very bush my innocent Little Birdy is taking shelter in—and I realize just how fucking close he was to finding her.

Rage overpowers me, pulsing through my veins and infecting me with a vicious venom, and just as I pass him, I skid to a stop, my front tire hitting the curb and blocking his path, then before he even gets a chance to run, I throw myself out of the car, my fist already flying.

I crash into him, instantly cracking my knuckles across his jaw and hearing the sickening sound of bone crunching. My momentum sends us both flying to the ground, and I come down over him, my fist swinging again.

Blood spurts across the pavement, but I don’t stop until the fucker is out cold, and even then, I barely manage to pull myself away. “Izaac?” I hear on a shaky breath, the terror-filled sound the only thing that’s able to pull me to my feet.

My gaze shoots out toward the thick bush behind me when I find her standing there, her body scratched up from the thick branches within the bush, and I fucking run.

Step after step, I pound against the pavement until I’m standing right before her. She reaches for me, throwing her arms around my neck as she whimpers, and I lock my arms around her back, dragging her right over the picket fence and into the safety of my arms.

She crumbles, heavy sobs tearing from the back of her throat as I hold on to her. “You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you,” I murmur into her ear, my hand making soothing circles on her back, but truth be told, I think I’m just as scared as she is. The fear of not getting to her in time. The fear of losing her, of letting something happen to her and not being there to save her. Of failing her.

I hold on to her like I would never let go until her tears finally begin to dry. She peers around me, taking in the lifeless body on the ground. “Is he . . . dead?”

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