Path of Destruction (Broken Heartland, #2)(49)

But God help her, she didn’t want him to. Some small voice inside her kept repeating that, one day she’d be okay, that she’d return to some version of normal.

But how did you ask someone to wait for that, not really knowing if it’s ever actually coming? You didn’t. So she wouldn’t.

Her stomach tightened and she watched more couples going in, wondering if that summer was the last good memories she’d get.

Self-hatred and guilt mixed and poured over her. How could she be so selfish? Whatever happened with Cameron were the last memories Kyle ever got.

Taking a deep breath, Ella Jane got out of her truck. She knew she didn’t fit in, her with her boots and her nearly twenty year old dress. Her hands fisted into the tiered lace and taffeta at her sides.

A low whistle rang out as she passed. Turning, she saw Devon and Jarrod propped on the hood of Devon’s black Range Rover.

“You really going in there?” Jarrod asked, the doubt clear on his face. “Alone?”

Devon took a swig from a shiny silver flask and Ella Jane was instantly jealous. Her mouth went dry and she hoped he felt like sharing.

“Maybe. Why? You boys got a better offer?”

Devon leered at her, a wicked half smile playing on his lips. He made her uncomfortable and she hadn’t forgotten what Hayden told her about them making videos of girls. But Jarrod didn’t really seem as shady to her. They’d hung out a few times and he hadn’t crossed any lines. So when she walked over she stood beside him.

“We’ve got alcohol,” he offered with a shrug. “Got to be better than the crap they’re serving in there. Plus, I thought you hated these people?”

“Hate’s an awfully strong word,” she said, reaching for the flask.

Devon handed it over, and she took a swig.

Holy effing burn, Batman.

Ella Jane squeezed her eyes shut and fought the urge to spit the rancid, gasoline-tasting liquid right back up.

“Pace yourself, sweetheart,” Jarrod said quietly. “Jack’s not always a nice guy.”

She nodded and took a much smaller swallow this time before handing it over to him. But as soon as she’d let go, she wanted it back.

Since the storm, everything inside of her had hurt, twisting and clutching and reminding her of all the pain, but this, this burned everything right out of there, cleansing like a fire clearing the debris of her painful memories. This was how it always was, how it always started. For a while it was bliss, but then she was dizzy and sick, and tomorrow, it would feel like a little man with a hammer had taken up residence in her skull. But even her worst hangover was worth a few hours of blissful numbness. She wasn’t sure what that said about her.

Devon chuckled low from beside her so she stepped closer to Jarrod and reached for the flask back. “Prescott will kill you,” she heard him say quietly.

“Prescott can bring it,” Jarrod answered, draping an arm around her and returning the container of blazing heat to her eager lips.





The hours ticked by faster than he’d expected. The ballroom of the hotel was decorated—tables set, balloons inflated, streamers streaming. He looked around for anything else that could possibly need done.

Nothing.

“Guess it’s all finished,” he said, trying to sound anxious to get out of there. He’d been looking forward to the end of his time on the social committee, but now that it was here, he felt a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“Guess so,” Cameron agreed with a shrug. “It looks like someone puked on the walls,” she added with a chuckle.

“Kinda.” He laughed. After their discussion in the hallway about the many things they were and were not, she’d stuck by his side all day.

It was nice just to hang out with her. He’d often wondered if there was anything to their relationship outside of making out. As they joked about the décor or Raquel’s shitty leadership as the social chair, he started to see that he definitely wouldn’t mind seeing her outside of the closet. She was witty and smart and there was a whole lot more to her than she gave herself credit for. But as every other guy in school seemed to realize, she was beautiful. More beautiful than he could even begin to describe. He’d never met a girl that was so put together. Even when she was at her worst mentally, she looked like a million bucks. Today, even in yoga pants and a SBHS T-shirt, she looked incredible. He sighed as he watched her walk over and ask Raquel if there was anything else she needed them to do.

“It’s all done,” Cameron confirmed when she walked back to where he was waiting.

“I guess this is goodbye, then,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, trying not to look like he cared.

“Until next Tuesday,” she reminded him. “Right?”

“Of course,” he said, feeling a sense of elation course through his veins. “I’ll be there.”

He contemplated reaching out for her. Both of them stood there, staring at each other. He wondered if she was waiting for him to say something. To do something. The boundaries with her were perplexing, but he didn’t want to push her away.

Her phone chimed, breaking the tension.

“I’ve got to go,” she said looking at the screen. “Hair appointment. Gotta get ready for this stupid thing, right?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t want to keep Prescott waiting.”