“What's going on?”I asked, my impatience bubbling over.I was bracing myself for him to launch into a lecture about how Zane was all wrong for me, but the look on his face told me something else was troubling him.Something deeper.
He was dressed in the same light blue jeans and the white hoodie I had once borrowed from him, his hair cut short enough that his curls barely peeked through.He cut his hair, after all.
Marco began to pace around my room, taking in the unchanged surroundings, while I stood by the door, tapping my foot impatiently.
“Luna, what was that today on the bus?Are you two… close?”He stopped to meet my gaze, his eyes serious.
“That's none of your business,” I replied sharply.
“Please, it's not what you think.He's genuinely bad for you.In fact, I'd go so far as to say he's dangerous,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
“What are you talking about?You don't even know him,” I shot back defensively.
“You're right, I don't.But I know someone who does, and I've heard what he's done,” Marco said, stepping closer to me.
“I don't get what you're trying to say.And why are you doing this to me?You seem happy with Emily; can't I be happy too?”My frustration was starting to rise.
“I'm sorry, but I have to tell you.It's my responsibility to protect you,” he insisted, shaking his head.
“You don't need to protect me.I can handle myself,” I snapped, wanting him to leave but feeling an undeniable curiosity gnawing at me.
“Just hear me out, and then I'll go.You can do whatever you want after,” he said, taking a deep breath.I nodded, eager to hear what he had to say.“You know how small towns are—everyone gossips and knows everything,” he began, watching my reaction.I remained skeptical, waiting for him to say something outrageous.
“I don't put stock in gossip; people always blow things out of proportion,” I replied, feeling disappointed.
“This was in the local news a few years back.I just found out recently.And actually, I was relieved Jessica wasn't dating him anymore.But now… you…” Marco continued, and my eyes widened with intrigue.
“What did he do?”I asked, genuinely curious now.
“He almost killed someone.He attacked a guy so viciously that the poor man is now confined to a wheelchair for life.The chilling part?He'd never even met the guy before.It was just some random person to him.Do you really want to get involved with someone like that?”
As his words sank in, I felt like my heart was a frantic bird, beating against its cage.It can't be.It just can't…
Chapter 24
Ihad the most unsettling dream.In it, I was in my room with Zane, cuddling and sharing soft kisses.I felt sheer happiness until, unexpectedly, he pulled out a knife and stabbed me.
I had never paid much attention to rumors, having heard my fair share of false stories about myself.People tended to jump to the worst conclusions.If Zane had acted the way he did, there must have been a reason.
I couldn't fathom him hurting someone without a motive, and the only way to uncover the truth was to speak with him directly.I wasn't afraid of him; I held this unwavering belief that he would never hurt me.Or perhaps I just wanted to cling to that idea so desperately that I ignored any other possibilities.
I was set on confronting him at school, but he wasn't there.He wasn't there the next day, either.I tried texting him, but there was no reply.All I could do was wait.
My mind kept replaying everything he had ever said to me, yet I felt as if he were keeping me at arm's length.Sometimes, I felt foolish and lost, unsure of my decisions.But I supposed that was just part of growing up.
That day, my dad asked me to meet him at his office after school, mentioning he needed my assistance with something.On the way into town, I stopped by Elias’s store for a brief chat, then headed to my dad’s office.Upon entering, the place felt deserted.My dad welcomed me with a smile, inviting me into his office.
“Give me a moment, sweetheart.I just need to finish filling out some paperwork for my last patient,” he said, gesturing for me to sit.As I looked around, I noticed a layer of dust covering everything; it seemed as if it hadn't been cleaned in ages.After a while, my dad finally turned to me.“I could use your help,” he said, capturing my full attention.
“What do you have in mind?”
“I'm thinking of buying a car for your mother, and I'd love your input.It'll be a vehicle you can drive too, since you'll be getting your driver's license soon.By the way, why are you still waiting?I wanted to hear what you think and what you might like.”
“Of course, I can help,” I replied.“But I'm not sure about getting my license.Do you remember how terrible I was during our practice sessions last year?I told you I wouldn't drive again.It's just not for me.I didn't even want a scooter.”The memory of my dad’s enthusiasm during those driving lessons felt distant, especially after the accident with my mom.Every time I heard about someone dying in a car crash—often young people I knew or went to school with—it made me even more hesitant.
“Well, you need to.Once you graduate, you'll want a car,” my dad insisted, as if it was a foregone conclusion.I nodded, not wanting to delve deeper into the conversation.
He locked up the office, and we drove to a nearby car dealership.Rows of cars stretched out before us.What was I supposed to choose?I figured my decision would probably be based solely on color since I didn't know anything about cars.
