“Hey, where are you?” he asks.
“My sister’s. Family lunch. Where are you?” I try to look at the background but can’t figure out where he is.
“The distillery.”
“Oh, okay.” That’s not so bad. What bad things could happen at the distillery? All they do is make whiskey there. He’s safe. I can see him.
I bring the joint to my lips and inhale.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Ares’s voice is loud and angry.
“Sitting in the garden,” I tell him as a billow of smoke leaves my mouth.
“Zara, why the fuck are you smoking weed?” he snaps.
“Because I wanted to?”
“We’ve had this discussion. You don’t need it.”
“Actually, I do. It helps numb me.”
“No, it doesn’t. That shit isn’t helping you, P. Put it out and throw it away,” he says.
“You know what? I’ve had enough of men telling me what I can and can’t do.” I cut the call and throw my phone back down on the grass.
Screw him and his thinking he owns me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s been one and a half days since Zara hung up on me. I didn’t bother trying to call her back. I figured I’d give her time to cool down and forget I was an ass—although my intentions were good. I don’t think smoking weed is helping herwith her depression like she thinks it is. Everything I’ve read says weed is a downer. It’s not a good mix with depression.
I hung out with the guys all day yesterday, since I blew them off on Saturday to go and run errands with Roman. The errand we had to run? Getting money out of some asshole who owed Uncle G. It’s not difficult, but it is messy. Which is why we took the guy out to the distillery. There’s a shed on the property that the family uses for purposes that have nothing to do with making whiskey.
Zara’s car is already in the parking lot by the time I pull up. I don’t want to go looking for her, but I already know I will be. I just need to see her. That’s it. I don’t need to talk to her, just get eyes on her so I can see that she’s still in one piece.
If she wants to talk, she can come to me. I’m not the one who hung up on our call. I’m not going to chase her down if she doesn’t want to be around me. I’m not that desperate.
Scratch that, I am desperate to see her, to touch her. But I’m not going to allow myself to be that person. I won’t be a puppy following her around everywhere, begging for scraps of her attention. Even if that’s exactly what I’ve been doing up until this moment.
I check my phone as I walk around the main building, where the guys and I usually meet up. Cara is starting at that preppy girls school today. She still hasn’t told our parents why she came back or why she wants to attend an all-girls school. It’s a lot, being the only one to know what happened. She’s my sister, though, and there’s nothing I won’t do for her.
There are no messages from her so I’m going to take that as a sign that she’s fine. Still, I send her a quick text to check in.
Me:
You good? You’re going to be great. Make new friends today. You’re likeable. It will be easy for you to do.
She doesn’t text back so I pocket my phone and lift my head. The moment I do, I’m like a deer caught in headlights. Zara. It takes a moment for my brain to register what she’s doing, and then I snap.
Storming up to her, I snatch the blunt from her hand. “What the fuck are you doing?” I throw the blunt on the ground and stomp it out with my shoe.
“I was enjoying that,” Zara says.
“No.”
“What?”
“I said no. You don’t get to smoke, Zara. I know you think it’s helping you but it’s not.”
