Page 87 of Ruled Out

“Leave. It.”

Tears tumble down my cheeks as I watch him throw on a pair of gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.

When he gets to the door, he pauses with his hand on the handle and turns back to me. Desperation all over his face. “Even when I think it’s safe, you’re always in danger.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

MIA

“Girl, I’m going to need you to take more notes. This class is going way over my head,” Tara whispers, nudging her elbow into my arm as we sit in the second row from the back. “And what is it with you wanting to be way in the back here anyway?”

I shrug and shake my head slowly. “Got a headache coming. Wanted to be away from the screen.”

“No kidding.” Tara sits back in her seat, tapping her pencil on her empty notepad. “I need binoculars.”

The professor’s voice is nothing more than a murmur in the distance as he delivers the class that I was supposed to prep for, but instead spent all night on Saturday waiting for Jessie to come back to bed.

At around three a.m., I found him in the pitch-black, sitting on Zach and Luna’s couch, staring down into a whiskey glass.

He didn’t drink any, but even in the dark, I could see the anguish written all over his face. He wanted to. He was battlingwith himself, gripping the glass so tight in his hand that I was worried it would shatter at any second.

I wanted him to talk to me. He’d been downstairs for hours, sitting alone with his own thoughts, drowning in emotions that I knew were eating him alive.

When he finally looked up and saw me standing in the living room doorway, I watched the way his eyes glazed, shining in the moonlight.

He didn’t fight me when I approached him and took the glass from his hand, setting it down on the coffee table in front of him. He stayed silent as I led him back up the stairs and into bed, curling myself around him as we slowly drifted off to sleep.

And when he dropped me back at my dorm on Sunday morning, we didn’t make any plans to see each other.

I don’t know if he paid his dad that money. All I know is, Wayne Callaghan is the kind of dangerous you read about in books, never really believing or comprehending that kind of person is out there. A monster that would rather see their own child burn before any harm came to themselves.

All I did was share a two-minute conversation over the phone with him. My boyfriend has endured twenty-six years of his behavior.

I look down at the minimal words on my notepad.

The truth is, I can read every single textbook in the library, critique every journal and study of trauma survivors. But nothing could have prepared me for the look of pure terror reflected in his eyes.

The past couple of days have killed me to be apart from him, especially when I know he’s about to head to Dallas for an away series. But my gut tells me he needs this space to deal with the shitstorm.

On Saturday night, I got it. I got why he’d hidden Dallas Jessie from me.

And despite it all, I still want every part of him. The difference is that I’m not sure I know how to do that now.

Wayne’s words play over again in my ears, but Alice’s broken voice lives in my soul. Jessie’s right; she needs to get out. If not for herself, then for her son. She is the only reason Jessie goes back home, answers his phone, and puts his financial future at risk.

When he told me she’d made choices that destroyed him, he wasn’t just talking about his childhood. She’s still making them now. Choosing her husband over her son.

And the kicker? I think she’s so far gone that she can’t even see what she’s doing.

When the professor steps out of class to fetch some handouts, Tara nudges me in my side. “Let’s get out of here. I can download the slides for us later.”

I shake my head. “We can’t just leave class halfway through. We?—”

“Mia, look at me,” Tara interjects.

I continue to stare down at my pad, the first teardrop smearing the few notes I’ve made.

“It wasn’t a request,” she replies, grabbing my things and shoving them into my bag.