As soon as he’s out of the way, I see his mother is walking toward us, greeting him like it hadn’t been five years since they spoke last.
I get between them. “Not happening.”
“He’s my son.” Her hair is a mess, and it looks like she hasn’t changed her clothes in weeks. She tries to get around me.
I put my hands on my hips, blocking her, using my size to take up the whole aisle and preventing her from getting by me. “He’s not. He hasn’t been for a long time.”
“He won’t just ignore blood. I birthed him.” She’s getting louder.
“Don’t follow us.” I glance around, not seeing Wolfe inside, so I ditch my drink and go outside.
I find him with his hands braced on the roof of the car, bent over, head hanging. I come up behind him, putting a hand on his back gently. “Get in the car. Let’s get out of here.”
He lets me open the door, and he gets in.
I go to the diver’s side, making sure she didn’t follow us before getting in. I get out of the parking lot quickly, taking off toward my grandfathers. Wolfe is looking out the window, and my heart is broken for him. I feel like it’s my fault.
I put my hand on his knee.
After a minute, he puts his hand on top of mine, but he’s not okay.
Another minute passes, and he says, “Can you pull over?”
“Where?”
“Right here. Anywhere.” His voice cracks.
I pull onto the shoulder and throw my hazards on. He’s tearing off his seatbelt while also trying to get the door open. He stumbles onto the side of the road. I get out and follow, but keep my distance. He has his hands on his knees, hunched over, breathing hard.
“Fuck her.” He straightens up, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, turning his back on me.
I tentatively come up behind him, hugging his back to my chest. “I’m here.”
He leans into me, chest heaving.
I kiss the back of his neck, trying to ground him. “You are safe.”
“I know, but my body doesn’t believe it.”
I squeeze him tighter, fighting my own emotions. “I got you. Always.”
He turns in my arms, pressing his face into my neck. I hug him just as tight.
“I shouldn’t have made you come back here. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be like this—I should be able to face her.”
“She doesn’t deserve to even look at you. You don’t have to do anything.” I kiss his temple, wishing I could do more.
He wraps his massive arms around me, locking me in a death grip. “I fucking hate her, and I hate that it affects me so much.”
“She can’t get to you. I won’t let her.”
He nods into my neck. “I hate that I hate this place. I hate that it’s hard to be here. I’m so fucking tired of her winning.”
“She hasn’t won anything. She’s disgusting and miserable. You are amazing in spite of her, and that says so much about you.”
He shudders and is quiet for a long time. “Was he with her?”
