Meet Me Halfway

I jolted forward, my eyes darting from the morbid-looking scene before me back to Jamie. “What are you doing? Garrett!”

He continued ignoring me, retreating through the open front door and down my porch, Aaron’s body thumping after him. Indignation flared inside of me, and I chased him down, closing the door behind me so Jamie wouldn’t follow.

It was pitch black and freezing out, and I bounced from one foot to the other, pulling my sweater tighter around me.

“What are you—oh my God, what are you doing?!” I called out as he threw Aaron into the backseat of his Nova like a sack of rotten garbage and slammed the door.

“Garrett, talk to me.”

He slapped both palms on his car, leaning forward to rest his head between them. Positioned the way he was, with every naked muscle in his back and legs on display, he looked like a fallen angel who’d lost his wings. It tore at me. “I’m sorry you had to—”

Flat hands turned to fists, and his shoulders tensed and shifted. “Don’t stand there and fucking compare me to him, Maddie. I am not him.”

I threw my arms out, “What are you talking about, I’m not!”

“When your gut reaction is to apologize every time I help you, you’re comparing me to him. When you second-guess how I’ll respond and feel the need to grovel to maintain my approval, you’re comparing. Stop fucking apologizing.”

I pulled my lips into my mouth, pressing down until it felt like my teeth would slice through. He hadn’t looked up from his car, but he might as well have laid me out. His words lashed out at me like a whip, digging into everything I was, and showing all the cracks.

I didn’t know how to stop over-thinking and second-guessing. I didn’t know how to be different.

“This is a little more than fixing my dishwasher or cleaning my fence, Garrett. You have a body in the back of your car, and you’re obviously upset with me. You won’t even look at me.”

He shoved off, twisting to me with a speed that didn’t seem possible. In only a few strides, he was flush against me, the skin of his stomach pressing against my sweater. His fingers dove into my hair, tangling in my curls as he gripped the back of my head and tilted it back.

“You want to know why I can’t fucking look at you? Because looking at you reminds me of what you told me last week. It makes me want to rip that motherfucker out of my car and finish what I started.

“I can’t look at your face without seeing the ghost of his fingerprints and remembering what they looked like on you, without remembering how you look when your eyes fog over in fear. It’ll be seared into my mind until the day I die.”

I subconsciously reached up, placing my hands on his chest. His grip tightened, pulling at the hairs along my nape, but I barely noticed. Hell, I was barely breathing.

“As long as that piece of shit is within arm’s reach of me, I can’t keep fucking looking at you, or tonight’s story is going to have a completely different fucking ending.”

My heart stuttered and stopped as he pulled away from me, dropping my hands to hang uselessly at my sides. “What are you going to do to him?”

“He’s not your concern.” He turned, running toward his house and disappearing. I didn’t move until he returned. Keys in hand, he’d only thrown on a pair of jeans and untied boots and climbed into his car.

“Go back inside and hug your son, Maddie. He needs to know you’re okay.” And with that, he shut his door and reversed out of the drive.

I should’ve checked his trunk for a shovel while he’d been inside.

When I stepped into my house, my senses were assaulted by the smell of pure bliss. I walked to the couch, grabbing a blanket thrown over it, and wrapped myself in the soft fleece before venturing into the kitchen. Jamie was standing before two mugs of freshly stirred hot chocolate.

“I haven’t put ice cubes in them yet so don’t drink it.”

I gave a tentative grin, deciding not to point out the massive billows of steam that had already hinted to that fact. Instead, I opened the freezer, twisting the tray and carefully dropping a few cubes into each.

“This was a great idea, thank you. You want to come watch something with me?”

He nodded, grabbing both mugs and carrying them carefully toward the coffee table. He disappeared into his room long enough to grab an extra blanket, and then plopped down next to me.

He needed to talk. What kid wouldn’t? I was still deciding whether I should say something or let him open up to me in time when he handed me my phone.

“Are you mad I called Garrett?”

“No, of course not.”

He played with the fringe of his blanket, “I know I should’ve called 911, but Garrett was the first person I thought of. I promise I would’ve called 911 next if he didn’t answer.”

I placed my hand over his own, stilling his movements. “I’m not upset. You did what made you comfortable, and I’m proud of you. I should never have put you in a position where you needed to make that choice. I knew better than to answer the door without checking to see who it was. That wasn’t safe.”

“Yeah, it was pretty stupid.”

I sent a mock glare his way. “How’d you even know which number was Garrett’s?” I’d never bothered changing his contact name from Sugar Daddy.

“You and Layla talk a lot. I pay attention.”

I laughed, basking in the relief I felt at the hint of a smile on his face. He was handling it better than I feared, for now at least.

He picked up his mug, curling his legs underneath him and blowing the steam. “I think Garrett loves you.”

I choked, Garrett’s words from earlier still playing on repeat in my head. “Why on earth would you think that, you weirdo?”

He shrugged, sipping delicately at the still too-hot chocolate before grimacing and setting it back down. “He came and saved you. He didn’t even put clothes on first, Mom.”

“And my eyeballs appreciated it,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. He dove forward over his lap, pretending to gag, and it brought another laugh to my lips that felt pretty dang good.

“He’s just a really good friend, no hearts and flowers involved.” But even as I said it, the words tasted a little like ash.

Jamie considered me for a moment but seemed to accept my answer. We picked out a random movie and curled up with our drinks and blankets. An hour later, he was slumped over, mouth hanging open.

Slipping off the couch, I grabbed my phone and dialed Garrett. I walked to the small window next to the door and peeked out as it rang and rang in my ear.

“You’ve reached Garrett…”

“Goddammit,” I muttered, listening to the rest of his answering message. I had no idea what he was doing, and I was fifty percent terrified and fifty percent undecided.

“Hey, Garrett, it’s me. I’m still awake.” I slid a hand down my face, cringing. Of course, I was awake, I was calling him. “Jamie’s asleep now so I’m going to do some reading or something. I can’t sleep. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

I ended the call without even saying bye, mentally hitting my head against the wall. How was it, I could make business calls every day of the week, but leaving a voicemail had me stuttering my way through a simple sentence?

Tucking the device into my pocket, I stared at the front door. Unlocking it would be monumentally stupid, and I wouldn’t risk it with Jamie crashed out here, but I also didn’t want Garrett knocking and scaring the pee out of him.

But that was assuming Garrett even stopped by or came back at all. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, again worrying about what the hell he was doing.

The sensation of my phone vibrating against my thigh had me jumping out of my skin. I fought with the material of my pants, trying to dig my phone out of my pocket.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. Open the door.”

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