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“You know. Like the bookWhite Fang. You’re trying to White Fang me. To tell me that you don’t want me and send me out into the wild.”

“No. I’m not trying to do that, I am telling you that I don’t want you.”

“I would at least admit it,” she spit. “You fucking dick. You might as well kick a rock at me.”

“Bix, I’m not trying to do anything to you. I am just telling you the way that it is.”

He was so stubborn. And she was just so angry. She had come here all ready to be vulnerable, and now he was just lying. He wasn’t giving her anything in return; he was trying to make her feel bad.

Rage blinded her. She bent down and she picked up a rock, and she threw it at him. It hit him square in the back. He barely flinched, because his muscles were that hard. “Why don’tyougo on and get,” she said.“You’re the one that can barely stand it here. You’re the one that can barely stand to be around your own family and your own family legacy because you’ve decided that you’re uniquely tainted. Uniquely hurt. Uniquely wounded by everybody and everything. No wonder Denver thinks you’re such an ass. You are. I told him earlier today that you don’t think you’re better than everybody. But maybe you do. And it’s so much better to sit up there and be self-righteous than have to get down here in the dirt with the rest of us who feel things.”

“That’s not it,” he growled. “I don’t think I’m better than you. I don’t deserve you.”

“How comforting. A convenient excuse for everything. Must be nice, Daughtry. Walk around with a literal bulletproof vest on, because you’re hiding. Protecting yourself, and you tell yourself that you’re protecting other people. You just don’t want to care. Because the last time you cared that person led you astray. Because the last time you cared, that person didn’t actually care about you, did he? You were nothing but muscle to him. And when he couldn’t use you the way that he wanted to, he abandoned you. And that’s your real problem.”

She was furious. And she was... Well, she was going to leave without him.

She reached over and grabbed his keys, and then she started to step back toward the truck.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving,” she said. “It’s what you wanted.” She spread her arms wide, the keys jingling. “That’sme. White Fang. A lone wolf. So I’m just going to go off and do lone-wolf things. Thanks for the sex and all the money. Sucker. At least I got something out of this. What did you get?” Tears were flowing down her cheeks now. “You didn’t get anything. Because I didn’t do anything for you. I couldn’t give you any work. I couldn’t even give you enough love. None of it was enough. None of it was good enough. So I guess this was just one long con after all. Hooray for me.”

She got into the truck, and a sob shook her body. She started the engine, and punched the gas. And she left him there, standing behind her. Getting smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. And she just wanted... She just wanted for this to stop. It hurt so bad. And she had said all these things and she didn’t even think she meant them. But her chest was this big indistinct radiating ball of pain, so how was she even supposed to know what was true and what wasn’t?

The only thing that felt real was all that hurt.

She clutched the steering wheel, trying to find a happy medium between anger and sadness. Instead, she just let it all come. She didn’t stop it.

She didn’t try to protect herself. And somewhere, in the midst of all of it, she knew that she would be all right. Not in that mean, small way she had survived before.

Even with all this, she was different. She wasn’t going to just double down and close off.

This was heartbreak.

It was what happened when you cared enough to get yourself broken.

It was horrible.

Just horrible.

And she knew she couldn’t go back to Daughtry’s house. So she did the only thing she could think to do.

She drove to Arizona’s house.

Because they were friends now. Sort of.

And she needed somebody. She didn’t need to be alone. She needed help.

She got out of the truck, and stumbled to the front door. She was just about to knock when Arizona opened it. “Bix? What’s wrong?”

“Daughtry...”

And then Arizona had her arms around Bix, and Bix could tell that Arizona wasn’t much of a hugger. Come to that, neither was Bix. But here they were, trying. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say she had told her so, even though she had.

“I just really do love him.”