Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(121)



His question stops me about a car’s distance from him. Hurt      pours out of his eyes, and every muscle in my abdomen clenches. My close      proximity actually causes him pain and that fact slaps me in the face.

“Yes,” I answer, then think about it. “No. She’s addicted to      heroin.”

Isaiah glances away and a lead ball drops into my stomach.      “You knew.”

He meets my eyes again. “She’s bad news, Beth. You’re not      going to change her.”

She will change. Scott will help me. I know it. “How are      you?”

“I’m surviving.” Isaiah surveys the night sky, then pushes      away from his car. “Have a nice life.”

“Isaiah...” I say, unsure of how to make us better. “This      isn’t goodbye.”

“Yeah,” he answers as he unlocks his driver’s-side door. “It      is.”

“If you believed that you wouldn’t be here now.” I’m      energized by a second wind as my words sink in. “We’re friends. For life.”

He rubs a hand over his face before sliding into his car,      shutting the door, and turning over his engine with an angry growl. The brief      burst of energy drains from me, starting in my head and seeping out through my      toes. It hurts to know that I’ve caused Isaiah pain, but someday he’ll really      fall in love and discover that all we’ve ever been is friends.

*

I open my eyes and curse. This is twice I’ve gone pathetic,      fallen asleep, and Scott has had to carry me in. Just like the first night in      this house, the blanket is tucked around me and my shoes are neatly placed near      the bed. It’s dark and I don’t bother looking at the clock. I toss aside the      blanket, climb out of bed, and head into the foyer.

In the kitchen, Scott sits at the island and stares at the      countertop. I flop onto the cushy leather couch. I’ve lived in this house for      three months and I’ve never sat here. “Nice couch.”

“It’s about time you tried it out,” Scott says. He wears a      Yankees T-shirt and a pair of jeans. Scott acts so grown-up at times I forget      that he’s not even thirty yet. He slips off the stool and joins me in the living      room. “Want to fill me in on Trent?”

“No.”

“Let me rephrase. Fill me in on Trent.”

Scott did hit the bastard. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and      try to find the simplest and fastest explanation. “The f*cking * is the      spawn of Satan and someone needs to stake the bastard in the heart, shred him to      pieces, then set the pieces on fire.”

“Or take a swing at his head with a baseball bat?”

“Or that.” I smile weakly and Scott gives the same weak      smile back. I told Ryan I’d stay. I finger the smooth material of the ribbon      tied around my wrist. “Why did you leave us? You didn’t just leave me. You left      Mom too.”

“Are you ready to discuss this calmly or are you looking for      a screaming match?”

“Talk.” I think.

“When I left Groveton, I meant what I said. I fully intended      to come back for you. I know I was young, but I loved you as if you were my      own.”

I loved him like he was my father. I draw my knees up and      wrap my arms around them. “Then why didn’t you come back?”

“Because...” He starts and stops several times as the words      catch in his mouth. “Because I wouldn’t have made it out if I did. I couldn’t      take you on the road with me and if I chose you then I would have had to quit      baseball.

“If I stayed in Groveton, I have no doubt I would have      become my father. Your dad swore to me he’d never be Dad, and the day he      graduated from high school he turned into the same bastard our father was. I      didn’t want trailer parks and I didn’t want girls hooked on drugs and I didn’t      want to spend the rest of my life hurting the people I said I loved. If I      stayed, I would have become my father and one day I would have hurt you.”

I shake my head. Scott would never have hurt me. He wasn’t      capable of it.

“I was so damned scared that when I began to run, I couldn’t      stop. I was scared to face you again. Scared if I saw you, I’d stay and turn      into my father.”

Scott swears and holds his hands together as if in prayer. I      bite my lip when his voice cracks. “When you first moved here—every time I      looked at you I saw the old man. I saw his anger coming out of your eyes. I saw      your father’s bitterness wrapped up inside of you. As much as I’ve hated myself      for leaving you behind, I don’t regret it. If I’d stayed I would have never      broken free and all of that anger and bitterness I see in you would have been      inside of me.”

Katie McGarry's Books