“I know. I was stupid and didn’t see how much you care. Can you forgive me?”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” I nod. “No one has ever done anything like that for me. I didn’t understand your intentions. Now I do.”
His face changes over like night to day. “We belong together.”
“I want that.”
“Cara.” He squats down in front of me and takes my hand, kissing it. “I will never hurt you again. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
“It’s okay.” I try to remain demure while I eye his widened legs. Knowing I have to act quickly, I execute a precise move I learned from soccer and bring my foot up to kick him squarely in the balls.
Stunned and in a mess of hurt, he drops like a felled tree on the ground, grunting and cupping his groin. I scramble to my feet, hearing the sirens in the distance, and run like hell.
I see Stiles and Max racing in my direction. Stiles catches me by the arms.
“Where is he? Where’s Eduardo?”
“The park,” I say breathlessly. “On the ground. I kicked him.”
“Does he have a weapon?”
“N-no. I didn’t see one.”
“I’ll get him,” Max shouts, veering off into the schoolyard.
“Oh my God, Jasper.” The words tumble out of me. “He was behind it all—the tire, the card, the flowers, everything.”
“It’s over now. You did good. You got away. You’re safe.” His hug is a tight squeeze that cuts off my breath, but I don’t care. Shaking, my adrenaline spent, I take comfort in Stiles and the warm security of his arms.
Police cars arrive. There are loud voices, quick, heavy steps on the pavement, and Max saying, “She got him good in the nuts.” Through it all, I don’t let go of Stiles, and he doesn’t let go of me, either.
Jordyn could have been seriously injured or worse.
When we arrived at her parents’ house, and I heard she’d gone off with Eduardo, soul-sucking terror rushed through my body. Her father knew in which direction they’d headed, but it had already been fifteen minutes, long enough to do serious harm.
“Call the police, now!” I shouted to her panicked parents. Then scared out of my own fucking mind, gripped with de ja vu, I took to the street with a speed that could have lit up the ground.
When I saw Jordyn tearing toward me, I nearly collapsed with relief as I pulled her into my arms and held on like I might never let her go.
Now, two hours later, Eduardo Russo has been arrested; our statements taken, curious and concerned neighbors have been sent off with assurances, and Max and the police are gone. Jordyn had asked me to stay, but I wouldn’t have left even without her request.
Mara and her mother press an ice pack to the livid swelling of her cheek, dab Polysporin at the corner of her lip, and apply a liberal amount of ointment to the darkening bruise on her hip. It shreds me to pieces, seeing her all banged up. I could pulverize Russo. Although, Jordyn had done a damn good job of that herself.
But as tough and brave as she’d been in getting out of a dangerous situation, she looks pale and shell-shocked, as if the reality has finally hit.
“You need to rest, baby girl.” Her mom leads her over to the couch and bundles Jordyn up in a fluffy blanket.
I stand aside, across the room, near the bar, watching, wanting to hold her again, but I don’t have that right.
She sits curled up in the middle of her family, her head resting on her father’s shoulder and her hand holding her mother’s. Jared is on the floor, his back against the base of the sofa, his cheek on Jordyn’s knee. It’s a picture of their closeness.
“Can I get you anything?” Mara asks me.
“No thanks. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t think so. Just you being here is what Jord wants.”
