Rules of Protection(46)

“Sure, Jake. Throw more gas on the fire.”

“You know what your problem is? I’ll tell you. You’re an overindulged, entitled baby who is prone to outbursts and too wrapped up in yourself to care about anybody else.”

The woman from the drive-through car yelled, “Honey, I wouldn’t take that shit.”

The young man in the other car didn’t appreciate the woman’s comment and honked his horn. “Hey, bitch, why don’t you shut your pie hole and mind your own business?”

“Look who’s talking, jackass!” the woman hollered back.

Jake shook his head. “Jesus Christ. Are you trying to start a riot?

“Now it’s my fault the people in the drive-through are arguing? I guess everything’s my fault, right?”

Jake grabbed my arm. “We need to go before someone calls the cops.”

I shook him off and tilted my chin up. “Let them. I’d rather be arrested, handcuffed, and loaded in the back of a cruiser than to get in the vehicle with you again.”

He glanced around and lowered his voice to a whisper. “If they run your fingerprints, you’ll be put in the system and Felts will find you.”

His attempt at forcing me to maintain a healthy perspective didn’t work. I was too far gone and still lashing out. “What do you care, anyway? You’d be rid of my overindulged, entitled ass.”

“Emily, get in the car.”

“There you go, telling me what to do. What are you going to do if I don’t…kidnap me again?” I stood there with crossed arms, tapping my foot, and watching anger flicker like fire in his eyes.

“Would you knock it off, you spoiled little…” He stopped himself from continuing his train of thought.

I didn’t care. That got my blood pumping, coursing through my veins at the speed of light. I had to get away from him before I punched him. “Oh, I give up!” I tried to step around him, but he blocked me from leaving.

“No, that’s exactly your problem,” Jake said, his nostrils flaring. “You don’t give up. Ever. In fact, you don’t ever shut up, either.”

Don’t do it. Don’t say— “It’s not my fault the average intelligence level around here is a big whopping three. I didn’t ask to be held captive in Hicksville or for us to sit around playing Duck, Duck, Goose, either. If all of you want to sit around licking windows and eating crayons with googly eyes and missing teeth, then be my guest. My ass will be on the next bus back to Chicago.” Damn, I said it.

Looking into Jake’s eyes, I knew our unpleasant battle of wills had become more personal than I meant it to. Me and my big mouth. His body swelled with rage as I pushed him to his breaking point.

“Get back in the car,” he growled.

I couldn’t move my feet. Regretting my words, I wanted to apologize, but didn’t know how. He regarded it as a sign of rebellion and snapped.

Jake gripped my arm, making me yelp, and manhandled me toward the Explorer. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Junior standing under a security light in the parking lot of his diner, watching the entire scene. He grinned at me and stepped back into the shadows.

“That’s right, bubba,” the young man in the drive-through yelled out. “You show that bitch who’s the boss!”

Jake glared at him. “Shut up, dick!”

…

He was silent on the way home, spending half the drive gripping the steering wheel with such pressure I was sure he’d break his knuckles.

A hard lump formed in my throat, forcing me to choke on any words of apology that wanted to make their presence known. I shouldn’t have let things get so out of hand. I felt terrible about implying his friends and family were uneducated hicks, especially since they’d been nothing but kind to me. He was never going to forgive me. It would serve me right if he abandoned me on the side of the road.

Jake pulled off onto the shoulder and stopped the car. Oh, shit. Was that what he was doing?

“Stay here,” Jake ordered, his voice calmer than before.

I nodded and stared out the window. Jake walked around the back of the Explorer, crossed the ditch, and disappeared into the forest. He probably planned on leaving me here alone and never coming back. I’d never be able to find my way back to his uncle’s house on my own. Hell, I’d be lucky if I made it back to the highway.

A minute later, Jake stepped out of the trees and walked back to the car. Once he got back in, I asked him, “Checking to see if someone followed us?”

“No, I took a leak.”

“Oh.”

He let his eyes rest on me for a moment. “I want to talk about what happened before we get home.”

“Jake, I don’t want to fight.” I propped my head against the seat. “I’m sorry about what I said, all of it. I didn’t mean any of it, and I don’t know why I reacted poorly. I just thought—”

“You thought this was a date.” He didn’t form it as a question.

My cheeks felt feverish as the embarrassment and fear of rejection pressed forward, but I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t bring myself to admit I read into it more than he did.

“I didn’t understand why you were mad, but it’s because you weren’t mad,” Jake said sympathetically. “You were hurt.”