“Act like she has a disease.”
“She probably does.” His eyes move left, indicating he’s willing to blab all of Ambrose’s secrets.
I fume, feeling the flush of anger on my cheeks as I sit down.
Shane pats the seat at his side. “There’s more room over here.”
More room for him to show his hate and agitation while he glares between the three of us. Both Shane’s and my legs shake, mine with fear, and his with pure rage. I see it on his flushed face.
“How did you know I was here?” I don’t move from my chair, but I try to disperse the bad energy around us with a simple question.
“Everyone in town is talking about how The Freak tried to end his life. There are banners everywhere. If he dies, a few are even planning a parade this weekend.”
“That’s fucking sick. He’s a person,” Annabelle pipes up.
“He’s a really horrible person.” Shane shrugs again, glancing down at his stumpy nails before shoving them between his teeth.
“No, he isn’t.” Valaria shakes her head in his direction. “And you are not one to judge anybody.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I wouldn’t want to. I just saw how you reacted when you touched your girlfriend. I see her face.”
“She fell, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t fall, Shane.” I stand, my knees threatening to give out as I put one leg in front of the other. “Come, I’ll meet you at the car. We need to talk.”
“Dollie,” Annabelle doesn’t mince her words as she says, “that’s a stupid fucking idea. Talk here.”
I can’t, because Shane could say something about the person I love most. Something Ambrose might not want our friends to know.
“I’ll be fine,” I reply, a little unsure because I know it’s a bad idea to go off alone with Shane. I know that he is already angry, and I’d be safer with the girls, but this isn’t their fight to end.
It’s mine.
And it ends today.
CHAPTER 77
Dollie—present day
Iknew this would be bad.
I didn’t know it would be ninety miles per hour around sharp bends and through residential areas bad.
The velocity pins me to my seat as much as fear. The wind tries to choke me from the open windows I’m not allowed to close because, apparently, I smell like a hospital.
The rain fights the sun to see which can get through the clouds fastest. The rain triumphs, splashing in on me.
“Clean my fucking car! It’s getting soaked because of you.”
I make no comment about how he could just close the window. Instead, I soak my sleeve as I use it to wipe away the rain.
Strands of long blonde hair cling to me. The car is cleaned religiously every week, indicating that someone else has been in here recently. I shake it away, letting it fall to the footwell.
“Just pull over, Shane!” I yell, hurting my own face to cut into his berating of me.
“So, you can run back to the hospital in your stupid pajamas?”
