I tried to back away, but my seat and the seatbelt across my chest held me in place. “Crescent? No, no, you’re wrong.”
The deep blue of his eyes darkened, turning almost black. It scared me. “You can’t see it, but I sure as hell can. You and the Millers, living it up like some sweet fucking family, and all their son wants is in your pants. It’s bullshit!”
His grip on my collar got tighter, pulling me in closer to his face. “Please, baby. There’s nothing there. You gotta know that.”
Fingers spread up, clasping around my neck and squeezing. “I love you so much, but you can’t see it. You can’t see all the things I’m trying to protect you from.”
“You’re hurting me,” I cried, a pathetic whimper in comparison to his loud, booming voice.
“You’re so sweet and innocent, Elio. You don’t get it. Crescent is going to get in your pants and break your heart, but you’re blind to it. Just like with your paintings.”
His fingers sank further into my skin, slowly starting to cut off my airway. “My paintings?”
Jude tilted his head, an almost solemn expression taking over his face. “Honey, do you really think you have any talent? Your paintings—they’re not good. They aren’t gonna get you anywhere.”
My eyes unfocused, forcing Jude into a blur as the little, tiny heart in my chest started to crack. One by one, piece by piece, it fell apart. He thought my paintings were bad?
“Move out. Stop talking to him.”
I shook my head, tears gathering in my eyes. “No, Jude. I can’t do that. His family is all I’ve got.”
A roar started in his throat. “I’m all you’ve got, you bastard! Who the fuck else cares like I do? No one, and you know that!” He released my neck, throwing me against the passenger door. “Fuck!”
I watched, my body shaking, as he got out of the car and tore open the back doors. I froze in my seat as he took my canvas, the painting I’d worked so hard on, and ripped the bag open.
He threw it on the ground.
I saw his leg raise, then fall.
He stomped, and stomped, and stomped, and I just knew it was ruined. Jude slammed his fist into the side of the car, screaming and cursing in the middle of nowhere.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he got back in the car. “Look what you made me do. I’m not that person, Elio. You know me. But fuck, you piss me off so bad.”
“I know.” My voice was weak and cracked.
“We’ll talk more at my house. Maybe the drive will cool me off.”
No, it wouldn’t. I knew what was coming. I knew that by tomorrow, I’d be covered in bruises.
But who else did I have?
Chapter Five
Jude.
Elio had flinched. Fuckingflinchedaway from me, as if he’d expected me to hurt him. I stood by the booth we’d just sat in, scared and confused. Jude had always rubbed me the wrong way, even back in high school. I’d never been sure if my intuition was right, or if I’d just been overly protective.
There’d been signs, but there’d always been explanations. The few and far between times he’d visit his parents, he’d return with bruises and scratches. It was the whole reason Mom and Dad took him in. When I pointed anything out, like a fingerprint-shaped bruise or a gnarly gash he’d tried to hide underneath the sleeves of his jacket, he’d tell me it was his mom, or he’d fallen, or the smaller bruises were playful hickies.
I’d always wanted to call bullshit, but I was scared. My fear had been my biggest downfall. If I pried too hard or toooften, Elio would get angry, claiming he could take care of himself. We were already sheltering him—he didn’t need a bodyguard, too.
I always wondered if my fear had caused our friendship to wither away. I never got confirmation, and Elio cut all contact so long ago, I didn’t have the chance to ask. He wouldn’t have told me anyway.
Now, fear rumbled in my gut, and my intuition was screaming at me, begging me to pay attention, and I knew I couldn’t walk away this time.
Elio had said Jude’s name like it’d burn him if he let it stay on his tongue for too long. And that set my heart on fire, bursting into flames and simmering. So hot, so bright, that if Elio really was hurting, and if he was stuck in a dark place, I’d be able to lead him out. I’d failed him in high school; I refused to fail him this time. We’d only just found each other again.
Staring at the wet napkins piled on the table, I heaved a sigh and shook my head. Just out of the corner of my eye, I saw a looming figure. It was dark, hidden just enough in the shadows. Ignoring it, I shoved all the napkins on top of a plate.
