He just walked away from me, though, carrying my bag as he stepped up to his car, the valet attendant handing him his keys.
Michael swung open one of the back doors and tossed my bag in, my phone and house keys with it, and stepped up to the front passenger-side door, pulling it open.
“Get in!” he demanded, anger written all over his face.
I breathed hard, shaking my head. What the fuck? I was half-tempted to beg the manager for a new set of keys and go buy a new fucking phone, just to show him.
But my books were in there, my class schedule, not to mention the birth certificate and immunization records that I’d had to let the admissions office make copies of after I’d left my advisor earlier.
I scowled, the tears gone and rage in its place.
Stepping up to the car, I jumped into the passenger’s seat and yanked the door out of his grasp, closing it on my own. As soon as I saw him round the front of the car, making his way for the driver’s side, I twisted around, grabbed my bag out of the backseat, and pushed open the car door, darting out.
I didn’t make it far.
Before my ass was even off the seat, Michael’s hand crashed into my shoulder, grabbing my collar and hauling me back in.
I cried out, but he swiped the bag away and tossed it into the backseat once more.
“Mr. Crist, can I call for help?” The attendant appeared in my open door, sounding concerned.
Michael’s hand was on my collarbone, holding me to the seat, and my face started to crack again as tears pooled.
“Sir.” The attendant reached for me, concern on his face. “The young lady…”
“Don’t touch her,” Michael growled. “Close the door.”
The attendant’s mouth sat agape for a moment, looking like he wanted to argue, but he just looked at me and eventually backed away, shutting the door.
“I told you I didn’t need a ride home,” I gritted out. “You wanted me gone, so let me leave!”
He started up the car, the muscles in his neck flexing and his hair glistening with rain. “Last thing I need is my mother bitching, because you went crying,” he spat out.
My chest rose and fell, fury boiling under my skin as I turned around and planted my knees underneath me, leaning over to his side of the car.
“I’ve got more mettle than you give me credit for,” I yelled, “so you can go fuck yourself!”
He darted out, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and yanking me in. I whimpered, feeling the burn in my scalp from his fingers fisting in my hair.
“What do you want from me? Huh?” he asked, breathing hard and glaring at me. “What do you see in me that’s so fucking fascinating?”
I trembled, just holding his eyes. What did I see in him? The answer was so easy, I didn’t even have to think about it. It was the same thing he saw in me all those years ago down in the catacombs.
The hunger.
The need to break away, the desire to find the one person on the planet that would understand me, the temptation to go after all things they tell us we can’t have…
I saw me, and through all the times growing up that I felt alone or like I was searching for something I couldn’t put into words, I didn’t feel so lost when he was around.
It was the only time I didn’t feel lost.
I shook my head, dropping my eyes as a silent tear spilled over. “Nothing,” I nearly whispered, despair tightening my throat. “I’m just a stupid kid.”
I inched away, feeling him slowly release his grasp in my hair. Shifting my feet out from under me, I sat down on my seat and swallowed the hard lump in my throat, pulling the collar of my plaid shirt tighter around my neck, covering my left side.
He didn’t want to know me. He didn’t like me.
And I wanted that fact to stop hurting. I was so sick of dreaming.
Sick of having forced a relationship with Trevor, because I believed he would set me straight, and sick of wanting a nightmare that treated me like a dog.
Sick of both of them.
I straightened my back and stared at my lap, trying to force the weariness from my voice.
“I want to walk home,” I told him, grabbing my bag from the back and taking hold of the door handle.
And then I paused, still not looking at him. “I’m sorry about sneaking off inside. It won’t happen again.”
Opening the door, I immediately stepped out into the downpour, thunder cracking overhead as I took the long way home.
Present
GOD, WHAT WAS SHE DOING TO ME?
Did she really think she was just a stupid kid? Did she really not see how every fucking person in Thunder Bay adored her?
I breathed hard, pulling my open collar away from the heat on my neck. Hell, I’d even caught my piece of shit father looking at her once or twice over the years. Everyone thought the world of Rika, so why did she act like mine was the only opinion that mattered to her?