Page 45 of Meant to Be

HARLEY

Istand outside her door, too shocked to move.

She really didn’t know? I wasn’t the only person she dropped and never spoke to again? Of course, I knew she never visited, and after the rumours died down, no one mentioned catching up with her. But I never realised how disconnected she really was from here.

My heart splinters when I hear her scream, her chest-racking sobs floating out to me, hitting me as hard as the punches from my father’s fists.

Everything inside me is begging me to go back in and comfort her, but I force myself to turn and leave her house. Everything feels shaky as I replay the moment I told her over and over.

I walk back to the pub. I don’t want to go home, but I have nowhere else to go. I hate everyone here except her. And I’m the last person she wants to see right now.

I head back inside the pub and gather the things I’d left there. On my way back out, my shoulder barges roughly into someone, and I flinch, quickly turning to protect myself, when I see Sam Mayor standing there, glowering at me.

“Oh,” I say. “Hey, Sam.”

“Harley,” he mutters, barely looking at me as he trudges past. The strong scent of alcohol wafts over me and I watch him stumble to his car before pulling the driver’s side door open.

Striding up behind him, I slam it shut. He lets out a yelp of alarm, turning.

“What the fuck, dude?” he growls, throwing my hand off his door as if my touch was poisoning it.

“Do we need to have this conversation again, Sam?” I ask him, tilting my head to survey the glazed look in his eyes.

Sam is a nice guy. Not particularly to me, but he has good reason. The last few weeks, he’s been here, drinking a lot more than usual, before attempting to drive back home. Of course, the drive isn’t very long—but that’s not the point.

“Stop being an asshole,” Sam snaps at me. “You ever get sick of being such a dick?”

“If you get in that car, it’s not only your life that you’re endangering, but everyone else that might pass you. Never know, it could be your mum. Dad.” I step closer. “Josie.”

He flinches at that, glaring hard at the ground.

“I know,” he softly mumbles.

Before this, the last time I spoke to Sam was when we were competing against each other at a rodeo. I’d never seen someone look like they wanted to punch anyone more than he wanted to hit me that day.

I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen. That particular trait seems to run in the family, it seems.

He’s not the only one who hasn’t ever forgiven me for the past, despite my efforts to explain things. In the end, I gave up trying to convince people I cared for her.

“Give me your keys,” I say.

His jaw clenches. He still won’t meet my eyes.

“Now, Sam.”

With a heavy sigh, he slaps the keys into my hand before stepping away from the car and slamming the door shut.

I’ve made speculations as to what brought Sam to this, but I wouldn’t dare voice it. Because he reallymighthit me this time, and honestly, if I have one more concussion, I might not wake up again.

The car beeps as I lock it, then we walk silently to my truck. The drive to his house is short. All the lights in the house are off when I pull up.

Despite having been stopped for a few moments, Sam stays where he is, gazing forward.

“You hurt her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Trust me, I’m prepared to spend the rest of my life making it up to her,” I say, sagging back into the seat.

Sam glances at me in surprise, finally meeting my eyes for the first time in … years.

“What?”

“I mean it,” I reply.

He chews his lip for a moment, then nods.

“Good. I hope so.”