to her. I broke her.
Putting the SUV in park, I get out to help her out of the wheelchair, but she’s already pushing out of it and hobbling toward me.
“I’m here to help you,” I growl, unable to hide my anger. She’s going to end up ripping her stitches if she doesn’t let me help her.
“I think you’ve done enough helping,” she sneers, forcing me to step out of the way as she reaches the door of the SUV. I’m planning to help her into the vehicle when she hops up all by herself, wincing only once her ass hits the leather.
“If you don’t want to have to go home and live with your parents, then you’ll listen to me. I’m not going to do anything to hurt you.”
Kennedy laughs, but it’s not humorous—if anything, it’s sad. “I don’t trust you, Jackson. I should have never trusted you. Thinking you would be there that night, thinking that you would help me, thinking that you would believe me. I trusted in you and look how that turned out.” She looks over at me, and I see nothing of the girl I had loved for years. “I hate you. I hate everything that you represent, and every time I see your face, I’m reminded of how you took his side. I’m reminded of what a horrible fucking person you are, and how I never want to look at your face again because that’s all you’ll ever be.”
Tears fill her eyes, and for one brief moment, I can’t breathe, think, or even react. I knew she was angry and sad, going through the motions, but I never… I never thought she could truly hate me. Now, I’m not so sure.
I shove my feelings down, stomping them into the earth as soon as they start to pop up. This isn’t about me. This is about her.
“I get it,” I say and close the door once she’s tucked inside.
The drive to her place–after stopping at the pharmacy–is painstakingly slow. When we pull up to her apartment complex, I’m more than thankful to get out of the car. That relief is short-lived when Kennedy gets out and starts wincing. We have an entire flight of stairs to walk up, and there isn’t any way I’m letting her walk them. Knowing this, I let her get to the complex door before I scoop her up gently and cradle her to my chest.
“Put me down,” she yells as she tries to push away from me.
“Calm down. I’m just carrying you to the apartment. I don’t want you to rip any stitches or anything.”
“What do you care? You didn’t care about me before. What makes this time any different?” Like a feral cat, she lashes out, her nails sinking into my flesh, but I ignore the small twinges of pain that she evokes over my tense muscles. I’m still not healed from the fight, but my pain is insignificant to the pain that she’s endured.
“Down you go,” I say and set her down when we reach the door to her apartment. She unlocks it with trembling fingers and shoves the door open, before turning to face me.
“You can sleep in the hall.”
“That wasn’t the deal, Kennedy, and you know it. I’m sleeping in the apartment on your couch, or we can go to my place and stay there. Whichever works best for you. I’m here for you, that’s it.”
“I hate that I ever cared about you. That I ever became your friend, and that I ever considered loving you. Leave me alone, or I’ll tell everyone that you pushed me to kill myself.”
With tears in her eyes, she twists on her heels and walks into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. I carry her things into the kitchen before walking out into the living room. Sagging down onto the couch, my head falls in my hands.
Did I make the right choice coming here? By telling Claudia, I’d watch her?
In an instant, I’m reminded that I did, and all the doubt fades away.
I need to help her find her way back to the light. I owe her that, and if she still hates me at the end of this, I’ll walk away. If that’s what she really wants, then I’ll do it. I’ll let her go because that’s how much I love her. I’ll suffer the pain of losing her if it’s the best thing for her.
28
Kennedy
Four days pass in a blur. I only allow Jackson in the