Page 115 of Insidious Heart
“Someone who won’t protect you from what goes on inside,” Summer mumbles, earning her another smack from Theo as Tate rounds the bed.
“Stevie, no one is going to judge you for the choices you make. You have to do what you think is right for you and your situation, but…” She watches Harlow fuss over my stitches before those dark eyes find mine. “Don’t do this for us. I get it, I really do, but at some point you have to take a risk regardless of the possible consequences because getting out of a shitty situation is worth more than that.”
We might have just met, literally, but the way these women—and their men, since I’mhereand know a couple of them are pacing outside the door as we speak—have effortlessly rallied around me, fixed me up and done everything they could to convince me to stay, amazes me.
I have never had so many people care about me before.
Until now, I haven’t really hadanyonecare about me before, and it blows my mind that this group of women just accepted me so easily, and keep expressing their concern for me no matter how much I fight it.
And I am definitely fighting it.
“Look, I can’t even begin to tell you how much all of this means to me.” With a bit of a forced smile, I look at the group I desperately wish I could be a part of becauseI want that.“You’ve all been so kind, so amazing, and I appreciate everything so very much, but I’ll be ok. This isn’t anything new for me, unfortunately, so…” The sound outside the window has me losing focus, and for a split second I worry that Beau found out where I am and is bringing hell to the Kings’ front door.
“Stevie?” Tate touches my arm but I keep staring at the open window. “Honey, what is it?”
The noise grows louder and I frown. “Do you hear—”
“Music,” Ember says as she gets up from the end of the bed and walks over. “I definitely hear music.” The other girls start to agree and just as everyone heads to the window, Ember slides the pane open and begins to laugh. “Oh girl, you havegotto get over here.”
Since most people wouldn’t be laughing if my father were standing outside trying to shoot up the carriage house clinic, I join them and let my new and temporary friends move me up front where I can see what they’re looking at.
And what I see? It makes me smile bigger than I ever have.
There’s a station wagon in the yard, an old one covered in rust and dents, and while that’s a little strange, it isn’t why I’m so happy.
Nope, I’m grinning like the lovesick fool I now know I am because Victor, my ghost, is standing on the hood fiddling with the knobs on a boombox older than I am.
“Piece of shit,” he grunts before smacking the front of it, Peter Gabriel now blasting from the speakers, and with a satisfied smile, he turns to face us then triumphantly raises the stereo above his head.
We talked aboutSay Anythingone time, only once while I was explaining happy tears to my ghost, and the fact that he not only remembered that but the fact that this specific scene always makes me cry, has a few tears slipping down my cheeks around my smile.
I really am in love with him.
“Baby dove!” Victor yells, shaking the boombox and swaying it to the song. “Those better be happy tears!”
I giggle and sniffle as I nod.
“Good! This song is fucking gold!”
“Say Anything, right?” Ember nudges me. “Great movie.”
“Great guy, too,” Tate whispers, a little surprise in her tone. “Who would have thought Victor had it in him?”
With my giggles growing by the second, I watch as my ghost starts to belt out the lyrics while he dances on the hood of the car. “I did. I knew he had it in him.”
“Well then, go get your man, girlie.” Ember gives my arm a squeeze and I look at her. “If you can get a crazy dude who has morally grey hobbies to do this”—she gestures out the window—“for you, you need to get down there and lay a smooch on him immediately. Guys like that don’t do this sort of thing for just anyone.”
I can only hope.
I nod and move away from the window, ready to run downstairs to do exactly what Ember said I should when I hear, “Stevie!”
“I’m coming down!” Poking my head out, I laugh at the worried look on Tor’s face. “I’ll be right there!”
It takes me longer than it should to get down the steps and out of the carriage house, but as soon as I do, Victor tosses the boombox on the ground, jumps off the hood, and comes barreling toward me.
“Hi.” I smile up at him as he stops directly in front of me.
Victor cups my cheeks gently, looking over the healing cuts and bruises, and the stitches that disappear into my hair. Those normally grey and indigo eyes are more lavender today and as they search mine I can see the worry swimming in them.
