Page 146 of Breathe Like Hell

“Don’t look at me, look at the road!” She pointed out the windshield. “If we crash, you’re not going to die, but I will! This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t give a fuck about my safety!”

“We’re not going to fucking crash!”

She lunged over the center console and grabbed the wheel like she might jerk us off the road, making my pulse spike. I shoved her off so hard I was sure she’d have a bruise from where she slammed into the passenger door.

She was staring at me with so much hatred in her eyes it was difficult to believe she’d ever told me she loved me. I looked back at the road.

“Don’t grab the wheel,” I gritted out. “You know better.”

I heard the sound of her flicking the latch on the passenger door, unlocking it, then glanced over to see her open the handle. The door only opened a few inches before I’d grabbed her arm and yanked her across the center console back onto my lap as she screamed. I slammed on the brakes, the wheels skidding on the pavement, until we came to a complete stop on the side of the road. Dakota’s heart was beating so hard I could feel it in her chest.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” I asked loudly. “Why would you open the door? Were you going to jump out?”

“I don’t know.” Her lower lip was wobbling, tears beading on her lower lashes. “I want to go back to Micah’s house. Please.”

I sighed, hugging her against my chest as she cried softly. She didn’t understand how fucking badly those words hurt me. No matter what I did, I’d never escape Micah. It was impossible to move forward with my life when I was surrounded by constant reminders of the worst thing that’d ever happened to me.

Why him? Why did it have to be him that she wanted?

He was a ghost, haunting every corner of my brain, haunting my entire relationship with Dakota.

“I’m sorry.”

“You make me feel insane sometimes.” Her voice was small and broken. “I’m not sure I like who I am with you.”

“Don’t say that, baby,” I said through the tightness crushing my throat. Anxiety flooded my brain, swallowing all my thoughts with worry. I’d gone too far, fucked up too many times. No matter what path I tried to force us down, the ending was the same. Devastation. Destruction. I was too unstable to be granted anything else.

“It’s how I feel. I’m not strong enough to fight you all the time, but it feels like I have to do that just to keep my head above water. I’m tired, Mason. I need him, okay?”

“You don’t think I can take care of you?” There wasn’t enough air in the car. She was slipping through my fingers. No matter how tight I wrapped my arms around her, I couldn’t protect her from myself, couldn’t keep her here. I was losing her, and I wasn’t sure I could fix it this time.

“Not in the same way he does.”

“Right. Because you’d choose him. You’re going to choose him. If I take you back to his house right now, is that the last I’m ever going to see of you?” I could barely ask the question. “Will you let him keep you from me?”

“No.” She shook her head, pressing her tear stained cheek to my t-shirt. “I don’t think you actually listen to me.”

“I do listen to you.”

“If you listened to me, you’d know that isn’t true. Yes, I can’t survive you without him. But I also can’t survive him without you.” She tapped her finger against my chest, gently this time. “I know both of you hate each other, but I’m sick of trying to pretend this isn’t what I want. You don’t have to agree to anything, but I need you to know that I’m not going to willingly leave either of you.”

As much as it hurt to hear she’d never leave him, the other side of her sentence was that she’d never leave me either. Not willingly, at least.

I could live with that for now.

“Okay,” I answered after a minute of oppressive silence. “Do you still want me to take you back?”

“Yes,” she said quietly, nodding. She looked nervous, afraid to make me angry again. Anger wasn’t the emotion on my mind, though. Not at her. I was fucking terrified of her, of the vise grip she had my entire heart and soul in. Chipped black fingernails digging into my flesh, squeezing enough to hurt, with the silent promise that she could kill me if she tightened her grip any further.

“Okay,” I relented, the tightness clawing at my throat again. Dakota climbed off my lap, back into her seat. I turned to face the windshield, then put the car into drive, checking the mirrors before pulling off the shoulder and onto the road.

“But I want you to stay there, too,” Dakota said, laying her head down on my forearm on the center console, nuzzling her cheek against me.

“I’m not sure I want to sleep alone in the guest room knowing you’re in his bed tonight.” My voice came out hoarser than I intended it to.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Are you fucking crazy? You’re not sleeping on the couch.”