She disappears down the hallway and out into the parking lot.
I hear her car start and the tires roll away from the rink.
And I just stand there, staring at the empty space she left behind. I know that Holland and his cronies are still here. I know I’mon the precipice of an absolute shitstorm for myself and my brothers.
I know all the fucking things.
But she left because I asked her to, and that tells me she has the kind of fight in her that could keep her alive.
It’s a small mercy, but a mercy, nonetheless.
There’s no going back now, and I know tomorrow won’t be like this.
Tomorrow, they won’t ask. They’ll justtake.
And I already know what I’m going to have to do before that happens.
Kylie
I’m still stewing two hours after leaving the rink, and God help me, doing exactly as Rook ordered by coming straight home. There’s no food in the fridge, there’s nothing on the TV, and for a Thursday that seemed born of miracles, it’s sure left me foul and fighting in a canoe up shit’s creek now.
“I’m telling you, Alyssa, this guy is ballsy. At first, I thought it was nice that he was always coming to my rescue and inserting himself into my chaos at his own expense, but at this point, it’s like he has some sort of ownership over me. Like he has the power to make my decisions and control my life. I’m fucking done. Done with it, you hear me?” I rant, slamming down onto the sofa and ramming my hand into the bucket of cheeseballs she left behind.
She laughs, the muffled static of her parents’ Connecticut house phone making her sound more nasal than normal, and I cram my mouth full of balls.
“Oh yeah, I can hear you, babe. Your volume is at an eleven on a scale of one to five. And I get it. I do. You’re an independent gal with a lifetime of experience in taking care of yourselfbecause you had to. Some grumpy asshole giving you orders? It’s ridiculous.”
“Yes,” I agree, “it is.”
She snorts before continuing. “But, if I may, without you biting my head off…can I make a hypothesis of my own?”
“I guess,” I snap so harshly it comes out like a bark, and she laughs again.
“Right. Well…what if I told you I don’t think Rook Slater thinks he owns you? That I don’t think he’s trying to control your life or insert himself into your decisions or cross the line. But instead…what if I were to suggest that, maybe, just maybe…helikesyou. And all this inserting himself is because he’sjealous.”
“I think you live in a fantasy world of rom-coms and toxic masculinity, Lyss. Sometimes red flags are just red fucking flags.”
“Yes. That’s true. I know better than anyone because I’ve had my taste of a fair share of assholes. “But Rook is…grumpy, sure. Closed off. But he’s never struck me as dangerous. Not until Holland started sniffing and pissing around you like a rabid dog, that is.”
“You know what, Alyssa? Even if that is the case…fuck that. I don’t need some guy going psycho every time one of his rivals dares to look at me. I need a Prince-Charming-type, you know? Romance and flowers and wooing and shit.” I groan before shoving the bucket of balls to the side and letting them slide off onto the floor.
It’s the first good luck of the night that they land right side up.
“I don’t know,” I whine. “Maybe I’ll just take off right now and drive to Gammy’s house tonight. Call Martin and tell him I’ve come down with the sick-of-men’s-shit virus and lick my wounds in an environment that comes with home-cooked meals.”
“That’s not an entirely bad idea.”
“Yeah. I’m doing it—”
“But,” she cuts me off, her tone both deliberate and loud enough to pause my roll off the couch. “Not tonight. Call Martin in the morning, take your time getting ready without the rush of making it to the office, stop for breakfast at that place on Bleaker Street that you love—”
“Bacon, Egg, and Freeze?” I say wistfully, dreaming of the everything bagel, Benedict-style hollandaise, and perfectly crispy bacon I haven’t made time for in two whole months.
“Uh-huh,” she agrees. “And just…let yourself be quiet for once. Take a nice bath tonight, put on some relaxing music, and set your phone to silent. You’ve been in overload for too long, and your nervous system is totally and completely fucked.”
“Great. I love the sound of that.”
She snorts. “It’s not permanent, Ky. Have a quiet night and go to your grandma’s tomorrow. Leave all the Rook and Holland bullshit for them to figure out by taking yourself out of the equation for a little while. See how you feel next week, after all the dust settles, and if it’s still annoying, fuck both those guys right out of your life.”
