“She what?” Hardin shouts.

His body is still turned toward Zed, and the taxi’s headlights shine across the space, giving me a glimpse of the smug grin spread wide across Zed’s face. How could he lie to Hardin like that about me? Will Hardin believe him? More important, does it matter if he does or not?

Does any of this actually matter?

“This is about Sam, isn’t it?” Hardin asks before Zed can respond.

“No, it’s not!” Zed wipes his hand across his face, pushing water away.

Hardin points a damning finger at him. “Yes, it is! I knew it! I fucking knew you were going after Tessa because of that whore!”

“She wasn’t a whore! And this isn’t only about her—I care about Tessa! Just the way I did Samantha, and you had to fuck it up! You always have to come in and fuck everything up for me!” Zed screams.

Hardin takes a step closer to him, but says to me, “Get in the cab, Tessa.”

I stand in place, ignoring him. Who is Samantha? The name sounds slightly familiar, but I can’t place it.

“Tessa, get in the cab and wait for me. Please,” Hardin says though clenched teeth. His patience is running thin, and by the look on Zed’s face, his has already evaporated.

“Please don’t fight him, Hardin. Not again,” I beg. I am sick of the fighting. I don’t think I can take watching another violent scene after finding my father’s body lifeless and cold.

“Tessa—” he begins, but I interrupt.

The last bit of my sanity has officially disappeared as I beg Hardin to leave with me, “Please, this week has been so terrible, and I can’t watch it. Please, Hardin. Just get in the cab with me. Take me away from here, please.”

Chapter thirty-eight

HARDIN

Tessa hasn’t spoken a word since I got into the cab, and I’m too busy trying to reel my temper in to comment. Seeing her out here, in the dark and running from something—running from Zed—drives my anger full force, and it would be all too easy to give in to it. To set it free.

I can’t do that, though. Not this time. This time, I will prove to her that I can control my mouth, my fists, too. I got into this cab with her instead of smashing Zed’s skull against the concrete, like he deserved. I hope she recognizes that; I hope that helps my case, even if by the slightest bit.

Tessa hasn’t tried to escape yet, and she didn’t speak up when I told the driver to take us by her mum’s to get her shit. That’s a good sign. It’s got to be. Her clothes are soaked, clinging to every inch of her body, and her hair is matted to her forehead. She pushes the mess back with her hand, sighing when the unruly strands won’t stay put. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to reach over and tuck her hair behind her ears.

“Wait here while we go inside,” I tell the driver. “We will be back in less than five minutes, so don’t move this cab.”

He was late to pick me up in the first place, so he shouldn’t mind waiting. Not that I’m complaining; if he hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have run into Tessa walking alone in the damn rain.

Tessa opens the door and walks across the yard. She doesn’t flinch as the rain pours down on her, shielding her body and nearly taking her from me. After reminding the driver to stay put a second time, I rush after her before the rain can separate us further.

I hold my breath, forcing myself to ignore the red truck parked in front of the house. Somehow Zed got back here first, like he knew where I would take her. But I can’t lose my temper. I have to show Tessa that I can hold myself together and put her feelings before my own.

She disappears into the house, and I follow only seconds behind. But already Carol is on her when I enter.

“Theresa, how many times are you going to do this? You’re dragging yourself right back into something that you know isn’t going to work!”

Zed is standing in the center of the living room, dripping water onto the floor. Tessa’s fingers are pinching the bridge of her nose, a sign of pure distress, and once again I struggle to keep my damn mouth shut.

It will only take one wrong word from me to make her stay here, to keep her hours away from me.

Tessa holds up one hand, somewhere between commanding and pleading. “Mother, can you please just stop? I’m not doing anything, I just want to leave here. Being here isn’t helping anything, and I have a job and classes in Seattle.”

Seattle?

“You’re going back to Seattle tonight?” Carol exclaims at her daughter.

“Not tonight, but tomorrow. I love you, Mother, and I know where you are coming from, but I really just want to be close to my . . . well”—Tessa gazes at me, uncertainty clear in her gray eyes—“Landon. I want to be with Landon right now.”

Oh . . .

Zed opens his goddamn mouth: “I’ll drive you.”

I just can’t stop myself from cutting in at that suggestion. “No, you won’t.”

I’m trying to be patient and shit, but this is too much. I should have barged in here, grabbed Tessa’s bag, and carried her out to the cab before Zed could so much as look at her.

The smirk on his face right now, that same fucking smirk he gave me only minutes ago, is taunting me. He’s trying to push me, trying to make me snap in front of Tessa and her mum. He wants to play games with me, like he always does.

But not tonight. I won’t give him the satisfaction of being his pawn.

“Tessa, grab your bag,” I say. But the mirrored scowl on both women’s faces makes me reconsider my choice of words. “Please, please grab your bag?”