Page 100 of Jerk

Glancing at Hannah, there’s concern on her face, her forehead wrinkling.

“I blackmailed her,” I confess.

"The email?" Hannah asks.

"There’s enough shit in there to hold the entire Hill hostage.”

“Oh, you’re fucked,” Krystal laughs. Not a humorous one. A pitiful one. “Let me guess. She wants you out now, too?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you leave?” Krystal asks.

“You can’t.” The panic in Hannah’s voice makes my head turn to her. Those eyes, they look?—

Hoooonk!

“Shit,” I mutter, swerving out of the way of a truck.

When I glance back at Hannah, she stares at me with that look on her face, my grip tightening on the wheel. I weighed my options. I weighed my outcome. So why is that look making me question my decision?

“Thought you’d want me out of the way.” Glancing between her and the road, our eyes meet for a second before she turns away.

“Not after you saved her,” Krystal snorts.

“I’m not a hero.”

And that brings Hannah’s eyes back to me, only for a second, like she’s trying to figure something out. She turns away again, and the rest of the ride is silent all the way back to The Hill.

It leaves us all in our own little worlds. It leaves me with no distraction. Even turning on the radio doesn’t help. The urge to make her pay for my decisions rises to the surface, and if Krystal wasn’t here, I’d pull over and take out whatever I’m feeling right inside her.

There’s no turning back now.

I spent my entire life making sure no one had power over me. Not my mother. Definitely not my father. I gave it all away for her.

Krystal falls asleep in the back, but even then, we don't dare speak. It's not until we turn off the highway and drive through that brick arch that the silence breaks.

“I should go home,” Hannah says.

My foot slams on the brakes as we get to a red light.

“No.” I turn to her. “That’s not a good idea.”

“I need to check on my mother.”

Fuck her mom. That woman will get both of them killed.

The light changes, but I don’t move.

Hannah turns to me, a blur in her eye.

“Please," she says.

My grip finally softens on the wheel, but staring at her eyes still fucks me up. The adrenaline from saving them isn't there anymore. Neither is the rush from escaping the guards. So… what the fuck is this?

“Ryung?” My sister’s tired voice comes from the backseat, my eyes still locked on Hannah.

“It’s late,” I say. “Why bother?”