“Really?” I said. “Because I’m happy for my family, but I hate that this...is ending.”
She looked away, then grimaced when she noticed that we were standing in front of Guy’s apartment. She moved us until we were in front of mine.
I couldn’t help it. I glanced back at Guy’s door. I knew he was gone, but still. “Did you tell your parents?”
“Everybody knows and everyone is blaming everyone else.” Jolene tugged the sleeve of my shirt so that I’d follow her down to sit on the ground.
“That can’t have been a fun conversation.”
Jolene shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I let the lawyers do the honors with my parents.” She sighed before speaking again. “I, um, ended up reporting him to the police. Shelly was with me when a couple officers interviewed me, and she...wasn’t horrible about it.” She hunched her shoulders ever so slightly. “The officers talked to me again after interviewing Guy, and he denied everything. He said he barely knew me and that after I tried to come on to him he kept his distance so as not to encourage me.”
“That son of a—” I wasn’t aware that I’d started to push to my feet until Jolene stopped me with a hand on my forearm.
“Adam.” She said my name softly and it helped to slow the rage-induced adrenaline coursing through my body. “He’s gone, remember?”
“He belongs in a cell,” I gritted out, lowering back to the ground.
“Yeah, well, he has a squeaky-clean record, and there’s no proof—”
“There’s you!” I said, feeling my face burn for very different reasons than it usually did around her.
Jolene’s face went hard. “Honestly, I’m just glad he’s gone. Actually, no. I’m glad he’s goneandI’m glad that his record won’t be so squeaky-clean if anyone else ever reports him.” She slid her hand off her lap to brush against mine. “According to Shelly, his face was bruised enough that maybe no one will ever have to.”
I looked down, watching her fingers reach for mine, and forced mine to unclench. My knuckles had been bruised for a few days after hitting Guy, but the skin was fine now. “I didn’t hit him hard enough.”
She laced her fingers through mine and I could feel her gaze on me. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to my cheek. The soft, sweet touch dimmed the fury still shouting at me to find Guy and make him hurt. Her fingers were so small compared to mine, she was so small and he’d—shame, slick and heavy, kept my head from lifting to see hers.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there, that I didn’t understand when you brought us to his apartment. I would never have left you.”
“I know,” she said, laying her head on my shoulder. “And it’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours,” I said, jerking up to find her face, the need to make sure she knew that superseding everything else.
Her nod was stiff and she didn’t say the words, but I had to hope that someday soon she’d be able to. Slowly, a smile lifted her mouth.
“Does it make me a bad person that I’m glad you hit him?”
“No, and I did more than hit him. I kicked him in the nuts so hard he nearly puked.”
Jolene’s smile stretched wider. “Did you really?”
“Yeah. Jeremy hit him, too.”
“Jeremy was with you? He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. In fact, he wanted me to give you this.” I shifted so I could reach into my back pocket and hand a ticket to her. “It’s for the play. Opening night is next week.”
Jolene took it and raised an eyebrow. “The play your ex-girlfriend Erica is also in?”
“Trust me, she is completely over all that. Last night at dinner, she and Jeremy were—”
“She’s eating dinner at your house now?”
“Just a few times so far, but we’ve talked and we’re good. She’ll tell you the same thing if you come to the play. Will you?”
Jolene looked at the ticket without saying anything.
“I know it’s not the same as a whole weekend, but you could come for dinner and go to the play with my family.”
