Page 57 of The Way Back Home

“You better run, boy,” Cole murmurs. He’s on his back now, struggling to get up. “I see you around town, I’m gonna choke the life out of you the way I shoulda done when your mamma left you on my doorstep.”

Josiah takes a step toward Cole, but I grab hold of his arm and yank him down the stairs toward the car. “Get in.”

He glances back at the porch, terror and agony written all over his face. If he sets foot in that house again, he’s going to wind up with a knife in his back.

“You run, you little fucking, pussy.” Cole is on his feet now. It took him a beat to recover but he’s up and starting toward us as we pull away from the curb. “Your bitch better watch her fucking back, too!”

I slam my foot down on the accelerator, attempting to put as much distance between us and that vile man as possible. My lids are heavy and my stomach roils; my hands shake so violently that they jerk the wheel.

“Are you okay?” Josiah asks.

“I’m fine,” I say, though I’m not sure he hears me. I’m not sureIhear me over the whooshing in my ears. “Put on your seatbelt.”

“Your face,” he says, and his own twists with sadness.

“I’m fine, Josiah.” I keep my gaze squarely on the white line. It appears to blur and shift, and I know I should pull over, but I’m too afraid to. I just need to get to August, then we’ll be safe. Everything will be better.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Olivia

WHEN WE PULL INTO THEdrive at Tanglewood, I take my hair out of the messy bun, and I muss it up so that it covers my face. I know it won’t hide the wounds, but as desperate as I’d been to get to August, I’m terrified of going inside. I’m afraid of his reaction, and what he’ll do once he figures out who did this.

Xena has calmed some. I’m not sure Betty knows that anything was amiss, but Josiah and I are both shaking like leaves in a windstorm. I slowly climb out of the car while he sits there. He’s in shock. He didn’t say a word after we left his street. Not that there was much to say—we’re both pretty shaken up.

I stiffly walk to the back door of the SUV and open it. Xena jumps out. She sniffs the ground, no doubt scenting Zora on the air, but she doesn’t follow the trail far, preferring instead to keep close. I reach in and take Betty from Josiah who sits in the front seat, panting as if he’s just run a marathon.Poor kid. While I’m betting he’s no stranger to a beating—how could he be with a father like that?—I think that maybe this is the first time he’s ever fought back, and it takes some getting your head around. Finally standing up for yourself can make you feel vulnerable in ways you never imagined.

“Are you gonna sit here all night, or are you coming inside?”

He turns to me with a shell-shocked expression. “You defended me.”

“Couldn’t let you take all the glory,” I say with a humorless laugh. No part of this is funny, but if I don’t laugh, I will crumple under the weight of this fear and sadness.

“No one has ever done that for me before.”

“That’s what you do for friends, Josiah,” I say quietly. “It’s what you do for family.”