Year 28 - J.L. Mac Page 0,55

propped low on his hips. He’s grimacing with his head tilted to the side. “Why do you have my car, Sylas?”

“First of all, it’s my car now. I bought it from your dad when he stopped driving the delivery trucks at work,” he says coolly as he plucks the tarp from my hand and begins folding it neatly.

“Why in the world… would Daddy… sell my car to you?” I stutter in disbelief. “And since when does he not drive the delivery trucks?” I wrack my brain for a moment searching for a memory of mom telling me this news. Perhaps I had not been paying attention or maybe I skimmed the text message containing this information.

Classic disinterested Raegan Potter, Self-Loathing snorts.

“Rae, he hasn’t driven a truck since he was diagnosed with diabetes two years ago. He’s insulin dependent. He lost his commercial driver’s license, so the company moved him to a dispatch position. He was able to keep a job, but he took a pay cut. He sold some stuff to help pay some bills,” he shrugs.

“Not possible.” I shake my head in denial. “Momma would tell me if Daddy was sick,” my accent seeps into my words much to Negativity and Self-Loathing’s horror.

“Would she?” Sylas counters tossing the folded tarp on the trunk of the car. “I’m not the only one you left in your dust, Rae,” he grumbles. I wince and turn away from him as tears collect in my eyes. I keep my back to him, my arms hugging my middle, too embarrassed to cry in front of him. Pea gravel crunches under his feet as he comes closer to me.

“Rae,” he says tugging my elbow, forcing me to face him. “They didn’t want to distract you from your big career. They made me promise not to tell you I bought the car. Apparently they know you hate me too but they don’t know why either,” he guffaws humorlessly. “And anyway, I didn’t want anyone else driving your car. We have some good memories in this baby, don’t we?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Come on, don’t be upset.” He says pulling me roughly to his chest.

How can I not be upset? My father is sick, and no one figured I would care enough to want to know. Sy said it’s because they didn’t want to bother me but I’m not an idiot. I can read between the lines. The things I have done, the way I have been in the name of self-preservation are not all things I am entirely proud of. Hurting my family even inadvertently—making them feel like they can’t talk to me or depend on me is high on my list of shame. Right beneath that on my list is my secret vilification of Sylas just so I can cope with my own ugly truth in my own twisted way while he’s here doing things to help my family. I am glad that he was here to help them.

“Sy, there’s plenty I hate but you aren’t one of them,” I declare firmly even through my exhaustion. “Thank you for being there for them,” I whisper with my forehead resting against the hard plains of his chest.

“Wanna pay me back?” he asks.

“What does that entail?”

“Stay here with me a while, agree to help me,” he states more than asks.

“I have to work,” I laugh humorlessly.

“When do you have to leave?” he asks with his lips in my hair.

Like, an hour ago, Regret rolls her eyes.

“Soon. I’ll probably catch a flight back tomorrow.” I yelp when Sylas tosses me over his shoulder again and tromps across the pea gravel then to the soggy yard. “Sy! Put me down!” I laugh breathlessly.

“Nope. After the little taste of heaven we shared you’re out of your gourd if you think I’m going to let you run back to the airport,” he says then swats my butt. “I’ll tie you to the headboard,” he promises darkly.

“Into kink now, Sylas?” I tease slapping his firm ass. He tips me back, setting me gently to my feet, our bodies firmly pressed together. My nose grazes against his on my way to my feet. His breath tickles against my cheek. We just stare at each other for a long moment. Maybe his mind is racing like mine. Maybe he’s memorizing me like I am memorizing him.

“You used to be my whole world then you vanished overnight. All these years… What do I have to do to convince you to stay a while longer?