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All I feel.
I don’t go for the slap like she did. I ball my fist, surging forward to clock her in the face, but before I can make contact, I’m being lifted off my feet. Jace pulls me away, kicking and screaming, and he turns me around, carries me through the house and to the backyard. As soon asI’m on my feet again, I attempt to run back in. My mom has gotten away with a lot in the past, but I refuse to let it happen now.
I make it two steps before Jace grabs me again, and he turns me to him this time, holds me at my waist so I can’t escape. “Hey hey hey,” he tries to soothe, but I’m too fucking angry. Too livid. Too fucking done with this bullshit. He cups my jaw, tilting my face up to look at him. “It’s done, Harlow,” he says, and I hold my breath, shake my head at him. “It’s done now.”
I let out a sob. Just one.
He wipes at my tears, like he always does. “She’s not worth it,” he tells me, his mouth so close to mine, as if he’s offeringhisair when I’m struggling for my own. “You’re better than this. Better thanher. Don’t stoop to her level. Don’t go throwing punches. They don’t solve anything.Trust me.”
I stare into his eyes. His deep, dark eyes… thecalm calm calmto my storm, and I fall into his arms, sob after sob retching out of me.
“I know, baby,” he says, holding me tighter. “I know it hurts.”
“I want to go, Jace,” I cry. “I need to get out of here.”
56
Jace
I can see the entire world from my bedroom window, or at least the world as I’ve always known it.
But I’ve never shown Harlow the view from the roof before.
Not until tonight.
My world used to be so small, made up of myself, my thoughts, and my never-ending search for memories held within the house I’d always watch.
My world is bigger now, my life greater, and my dreams of the future as vast as the skies above me.
And I know I owe it all to the girl in my arms, the one whose cries have slowly quieted as she watches her entire world fall apart from the outside.
Her mom’s still at the house, waiting by the porch while her dad goes in and out, always returning with shit to throw into her car. She screams at him every time he appears, and he returns her screams, only twice as loud.
Still, we’re too far to hear what they’re saying, but I’m sure we can guess.
“So this is where you were when you saw them—my mom and uncle?” Harlow asks, and it’s the first time she’s spoken since we got in my van to drive over here.
“Yeah.”
She adjusts, sitting up slightly. “You can see right into my bedroom from here.”
“It’s better with my binoculars, but yes.”
She turns in my arms, her red, raw, tear-stained eyes narrowing slightly. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with me.”
I shrug, and we go back to watching her parents. Her mom’s in her car now, making her way down the driveway, and her dad watches her leave, his hands on his hips. As soon as the car’s far enough away, he heads into the house, only to reappear in the backyard. He looks around, then takes his phone from his pocket. It’s only now I realize that I never told him we were leaving. Seconds later, Harlow’s phone rings.
And rings.
And rings.
She doesn’t answer, and my chest tightens at the thought of her dad hurting like this. Worrying like this.
Another phone ringing, mine this time, and I take it out of my pocket and sigh. If anyone knows what it’s like to worry, not knowing the whereabouts of someone you’re responsible for, it’s me. Harlow looks from the phone to me, and my eyes drift shut when I tell her, “Ihaveto. At least to let him know you’re okay.”
Harlow concedes, nodding once, and I answer with, “She’s with me.”
I can practically feel his relief in the loudness of his exhale. “Is she coming home tonight?”