Still Jaded (Jaded #2)(57)

Corrigan shook his head. "No. I'll take her to school and back. I'll be with her except when she's in classes. And I can get one of the fraternity brothers to watch her at all times. The guys like Sheldon. They're worried about her too."

She eyed him. "And if one of those guys wants her dead? Or hurt?"

His eyes shot to hers and his anger shown there. He bit out, "They won't."—or they'd have him to deal with. The threat hung in the air, though no one commented on it.

Officer Sheila pursed her lips and sighed. "Fine. I'll have a car posted outside the house at night. You got her during the days."

She turned to leave, but I stopped her. "You said it was a female before. You said a female was stalking me. Did you change your mind?"

"Someone tried to break into your house tonight. That's not a female move, not typically. That's what a male would do. So all bets are off unless you have two people trying to get at you?" She paused and then asked, "What happened with Bryce? Would it have been him?"

"What?" I was taken aback but laughed. "No. It wasn't Bryce. He's…"

"He's busy. He's didn't go off the deep end." Corrigan touched my shoulder and drew me back to him. One of his arms curved around my waist, as if shielding me.

Officer Sheila's eyes flickered at the movement, but she didn't say anything. "Anything else happens, call me. Or you can hit one of the panic buttons, but half the force will be here. That was linked to our emergency crisis number. Sheldon…just be safe."

I nodded, relieved it was done when she left. The rest of the police left with her, and soon my lawn was dark. The flashing red, blue, and white lights had gone. It felt empty now.

Corrigan cursed and went to the liquor cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of brandy and poured a drink.

"What's wrong with you?"

He shook his head and drank the shot in one gulp. "Nothing."

"Hey!" I grabbed the bottle from his hand and glared. "What's your problem? You're on me about my stuff. You talk too."

Corrigan's eyes were livid, but he didn't try to grab the bottle. "I don't make you talk about anything. I let you be you. I always have. I stand by and watch you self-destruct all the time, and then I come in and pick up the pieces. Me, Sheldon. Bryce helped out in high school, but it's been only me since Marcus. Now you think you saw him—now Officer Patterson says it was a guy that tried to come in here. I'm pissed off because someone keeps trying to hurt you. I can be angry, can't I? Give me the damn bottle. I want to get drunk."

My shoulders slumped down and I felt my anger evaporate. I slid the bottle across the counter to him and sat on a stool. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," he bit out.

I watched as he took another drink and then closed his eyes. His hands were clenched in fists. They rested against the counter. His shoulders were clenched as if he was fighting something inside of himself.

"Corrigan," I said softly.

He lifted strained eyed to me.

"I'm sorry I'm so screwed up."

A smile formed on his face and a chuckle escaped him. His shoulders relaxed slightly as he sighed. "You're not the problem. Don't ever apologize for that. I'm just—Bryce should be here too. I know things haven't been good with any of us for a long time, but I don't know. A part of me feels good that you and Bryce have broken up. I know it doesn't make sense, but I feel like everything's out in the clear. You guys aren't hiding what was going on and now we can all move forward. You two can fix whatever is the problem and get right with each other whenever, but he should be here. No matter if he's with that other girl—he should still be here. He's the other part of us…"

I swallowed tightly and looked down. Everything Corrigan said felt like a punch to my stomach. "I…" I didn't know what to say. I couldn't say anything. Bryce was gone… A part of me didn't feel like he was. A part of me didn't want to accept that, but I couldn't change it. It felt like cancer growing in the pit of my stomach. It was deadly and something I couldn't stop it.

Then Corrigan pushed a drink in front of me. "Drink it. Let's both get drunk. Screw classes tomorrow."

"Nothing good has happened the last few times we've drank together," I choked out. My throat felt so tight. I reached for the glass, but my hand trembled. When I let go of the glass, I looked up and met Corrigan's gaze. They were a clear green, but looked clouded now. I felt something in the air, something thick, but I didn't dare say anything. Something was weighing me down and I couldn't break its spell.

Then Corrigan asked, "When are you going to talk to him?"

I looked away. It was a question that I hadn't wanted to answer myself. It'd been nagging me, constantly in the back of my mind. I shrugged. "I don't know. I—I don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Because you don't want to hear the answers?"

I shook my head and Corrigan thumbed a tear away. My voice was raw. "I can't talk about this, Corrigan. I'm sorry. I—I can't talk about it."

"Okay." He nodded and then pulled me into his arms. A deep sigh wracked his body, and he tucked his chin into the crook of my shoulder. "We've gotten through worse."