Long Way Home (Thunder Road #3)(46)

Frost had it wrong. Two roads converged and I didn’t want to travel either. Where’s the poem where the person runs screaming in the opposite direction? That one I would understand.

The dominatrix at physical therapy wants me to get a walker because she wants me to put pressure on my leg. I’d rather shoot myself in the head than go around school like that. It’s going to be bad enough to fit back into my hard-won old life that had new non-Terror friends with that Amber Alert. A walker will only make people think I’m weak. Crutches I might be able to pull off. Limping would be better.

Keeping my physical therapist’s request in mind, I gather the crutches with one hand and slowly attempt to walk on my own. Eli jerks like he’s going to jump to his feet, but luckily I reach the booth before he has the opportunity to act like an idiot in a room full of people.

“Why are you putting weight on your knee?” he demands.

“I’m having pancakes with blueberries, blueberry syrup and whip cream. I’m also having bacon and your bacon and as much orange juice as I want. You’re buying. And walking, which requires placing weight on my knee, is what the lady at physical therapy told me to do.” I add asshole in my head, but I’m pretty sure my expression said it loud and clear.

Eli pulls at the plug in his earlobe, then fold his hands together on the table. “I don’t like how we’ve turned out.”

Even though I know what I’m ordering, I open up the plastic tri-fold menu and pretend I don’t have it memorized.

“We used to be close,” he says.

Yep. We were.

“What happened?”

My eyes flash to his. “Dad died. That’s what happened.”

“In an accident.” Eli leans forward. “In a stupid, fucking accident. Why are you mad at me? At the club? Hell, anyone within a two-hundred-mile radius can see you’re still in love with Chevy and you left him. I don’t get it, and I don’t know how to make things better between us, so maybe if you explain it, I can fix it.”

This man makes my head hurt in so many ways. “I’ve explained it to you multiple times and you don’t listen.”

“Try again.”

“You don’t listen.”

“Dammit, Violet, I’m trying here. Why can’t you see that?”

I fold the menu and toss it in his direction so that it smacks him in the arm. “You don’t listen! That’s it! You never listen. You talk over me, you talk to anyone else but me, and what’s worse is when I am talking and by the rare chance you are silent, you’re not even listening. Instead, you’re busy formulating in your pint-size mind whatever it is you’re going to say to me next.”

Eli opens his mouth and I tilt my head in an I told you so. Sort of cartoonish how he snaps his trap shut. He drums his fingers against the table, then slumps back into the booth. “I’m listening now, so talk.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

Because Rome was built in a day. Fine. Whatever. “I want to go home.”

“No.”

“I don’t mean this very second. I mean after breakfast.”

“I know what you meant. No.”

I throw my hands up. He has no idea he’s proving my point.

“I’m listening,” he says in defense. “I just don’t agree.”

“Listening would mean pausing to reflect upon any argument I might have. That would require me giving you my opinion, you listening while I give my opinion, thinking over my opinion and then you and I have a spirited discussion that may or may not require curse words until we come to a mutually beneficial decision based on friendship and respect.”

Eli’s eyes sparkle and it’s insulting how he’s attempting to hide his smile. “You sound exactly like your dad.”

“I don’t take that as an insult.”

His eyebrows draw together. “I didn’t mean it as one. Your dad was one of the most amazing men I knew and I know a lot of great guys. I miss him, Vi, and I’m sure you do, too. I know we don’t always get along, but I swear we’re on the same side of this war.”

War. I’ve been asked to deliver Eli on a platter. “Are you admitting you’re at war with the Riot?”

“The Riot, anyone at school who gives you shit, anyone in general who gives you shit. The world. I wish you knew I’m on your side.”

His words sound pretty, but that’s all they are. Something ugly wearing makeup and bows. Or in his case, a black T-shirt and ear plugs. “Then let me go home and stop treating me like a prisoner.”

Eli rolls his neck and almost looks regretful. “I can’t do that, and I’m not treating you like a prisoner.”

“The hell you aren’t.”

Demons shoot out of Eli’s eyes. “Do not compare me to the Riot. They hurt you. I’m protecting you.”

I lean forward to explain exactly where he can shove his protection, when there’s the clearing of a throat. “I think they rang the bell for the first round a few minutes ago. It’s time to return to your corners.”

My heart swells. It’s Chevy’s mom. I smile before I have the chance to remember I broke her son’s heart and she wasn’t particularly pleased with me. I go to cast my gaze away, but Nina leans down and gives me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. When she pulls away, she grabs my chin and stares deep into my eyes. “You okay?”