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Chapter twenty-eight
TESSA
He’s been pestering me for the last hour, staring into the mirror, watching me apply my makeup and curl my hair, groping me every chance he gets.
“Tess, baby,” Hardin groans for the second time, “I love you, but you have got to hurry up or we will be late to our own party.”
“I know, I just want to look decent. Everyone will be there.” I give him an apologetic smile, knowing he won’t stay annoyed long and secretly loving the unpleasant expression on his face. I love the way a dimple appears on his right cheek when he has that adorable grumpy scowl.
“Decent? You’ll be the center of everyone’s attention,” he whines, his jealousy clear.
“What’s the party for, again?” I swipe a thin layer of gloss across my lips. I can’t remember what’s going on—I only know everyone is excited, and we are going to be late if I don’t finish grooming myself soon.
Hardin’s strong arms wrap around me, and just like that I suddenly remember what everyone’s celebrating. It’s such a horrible thought, I drop the tube of gloss into the sink and let out a little gasp just as Hardin whispers, “Your father’s funeral.”
I SIT UP and, finding myself wrapped around Hardin, quickly untangle myself from him.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he exclaims.
Hardin’s here, right beside me, and my legs were intertwined with his. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep—why did I do that? I don’t even remember falling asleep; the last thing I remember was Hardin’s warm hands on mine, covering my ears.
“Nothing,” I croak. My throat burns, and I take in my surroundings while my brain catches up with me. “I need water.” I rub my neck and attempt to stand. Stumbling, I glance down at Hardin.
His face is tight and his eyes are red. “Did you have a dream?”
The nothing quickly creeps back inside me, settling just below my breastbone and setting up camp there, in the deepest and emptiest spot.
“Sit down.” He reaches for me, but his fingers burn on my skin and I pull away.
“Please, don’t,” I quietly beg. The grumpy, adorable Hardin from my dream was just that, a pointless dream, and I am now faced with this Hardin, the one who keeps coming back for another hit after tossing me aside. I know why he does it, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to deal with it right now.
He lowers his head in defeat and drops his hand to the ground to lift himself up. His knee slides farther into the mud, and I look away while he catches himself on the railing. “I don’t know what to do,” he says softly.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I mutter and attempt to pull all of my strength into forcing my legs to take me out of here and into the pouring rain.
I’m halfway across the yard when I hear him behind me. He’s keeping a safe distance behind me, and I’m grateful. I need space from him, I need time to think and breathe, and I need him not to be here.
I pull the back door open and step inside the house. Mud instantly streaks the rug, and I cringe at the reaction that this mess will pull from my mother. Instead of waiting to hear her complaints, I undress down to my bra and panties, leaving my clothes in a muddy pile on the back porch and try my best to rinse my feet in the rain before trudging across the clean tile floor. My feet squeak with each step, and I flinch as the back door opens and Hardin’s boots track mud in with them.
Such a silly thing to worry about, mud? Out of all the things on my mind, mud seems so trivial, so small. I miss the days when a mess was a concern.
A voice breaks through my inner discussion. “Tessa? Did you hear me?”
I blink and look up to find Noah standing in the hallway with damp clothes and no shoes on his feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t.”
He nods sympathetically. “It’s okay. Are you all right? Do you need a shower?”
I nod and he steps into the bathroom, starting the water. The noise from the shower draws me closer, but Hardin’s hard voice stops me.
“He’s not helping you take a shower.”
I don’t respond. I don’t have the energy to. Of course he’s not going to—why would he?
Hardin walks past me, trailing mud behind him. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to happen.”
My mind is disconnected from me, or maybe it just feels that way, but I laugh ruefully at the mess he’s left behind him. Not only in my mother’s house but everywhere he goes, he leaves a mess behind. Including me—I’m the biggest mess of all.
He disappears into the bathroom and says to Noah, “She’s half-naked and you’re running her a shower. Fuck no. You aren’t going to stay in here while she bathes. Nope, not going to fucking happen.”
“I’m only trying to help her, and you’re causing a problem when—”
I step into the doorway and push past the two brooding men. “Both of you leave.” My voice is monotone, robotic and flat. “Go fight somewhere else.”
I push them out and shut the door. As the lock clicks into place, I pray that Hardin won’t add this thin bathroom door to his list of destruction.
Stripping the rest of the way down and stepping into the water, I find it hot, so hot, against my back. I’m covered in filth, and I hate it. I hate the way the mud is crusted under my nails and into my hair. I hate the way that no matter how furiously I scrub, I can’t seem to get clean.
Chapter twenty-nine
HARDIN
I can’t help that she was undressed. All of this stuff going on, and you’re concerned about me seeing her body?” The judgment in Noah’s tone makes me want to strangle him with my good hand.