“I’m sorry,” I blurt out.
There’s no indication at all that he heard me. He’s staring straight through the windshield. I’m not sure what he’s staring at though; it’s all dark.
But I don’t let that deter me.
I hug my bag to my chest and continue, “About your car.”
Yes, I’m apologizing.
Because I’m a good person. I feel guilt. I feel regret. I’m not like him.
At this, thereissome movement — the clenching of his jaw — that alerts me that he’s more attuned to my words than he’s letting on. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or bad, that clench, but as I said, I won’t be deterred. “You hurt me that night. You broke my heart, and even though you deserved all my hatred and all my anger, you still do by the way, I never should have done what I did. I never should’ve stolen your car and driven it into the lake. I don’t know what I was thinking. Iwasn’tthinking, Iguess. I was… I was hurt and in pain and I just wanted to hurt you back. And your Mustang seemed like the best way to do that and —”
“I know.”
I blink. “What?”
His jaw moves again, all tight and rigid. “I hurt you. So you wanted to hurt me back. I know that.”
“I didn’t know,” I blurt out.
"Didn’t know what?
"That you’d built your car.” His grip goes tight on the wheel and before he can say anything, I speak. “I didn’t know that. I knew you loved it but I didn’t know that you’d built this car yourself. I didn’t even know that you could do something like that, Reed. I had no idea. I had noideathat you worked in a garage and —”
“Who told you?” he cuts me off.
His jaw is ticking and I fist the fabric of my backpack because I know he’s angry. Extremely angry.
His wolf eyes shine a different way when he’s angered. They become all dark and dangerous, narrowed. His jaw becomes a true V, as if his agitated emotions have chiseled it down.
This is exactly what used to happen back on the soccer field, with Ledger. This is how all their fights would start, and I know from experience that I should back off now.
He wouldn’t physically harm me, of course, but I shouldn’t anger him further.
But I don’t care. So I tell him, “Tempest.”
“Tempest,” he bites out.
“Yes, but you have to know that she didn’t tell me this for the longest time. And she wasn’t going to. She was going to keep your secret. It was me. I forced it out of her. It’s my fault. Not hers.”
Reed watches me in the darkened interior of the car.
If there’s a moon out tonight, it’s hiding in this part of the world. But even so, I know he can see me clearly. I, on the other hand, am struggling.
I only see him in tight lines and shadows and when he moves his jaw, I know he’s going to speak. “Are you done?”
“No.”
A ripple cuts through the still air and I’m forced to look into his glowing eyes that are somehow both dark and bright at the same time.
“Excuse me?”
I raise my chin. “I want to know how.”
“How what?”
“How you saved me?”
