Beautifully Ruined (14 page)

I tug my arm away, stepping away from him. “Last time I checked, you can’t control what I do anymore.”

“Yeah, whose fault is that?” he snaps, the anger pouring from his lips.

It sobers me. But that might be my own rage forming

I spin around, charging at him fast enough that he takes a step back. I push against him with my hands, shoving him as hard as I can but he doesn’t move, he’s like a wall. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I seethe, shoving against him because I can. “Don’t make me the fucking bad guy. Because what I did,
I did it for you
.” I shove him again for good measure.

Zephyr looks to me, his face encased in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” I drop my arms, tears rolling down my cheeks. I can feel the eyes of those closest to us staring. I know what they’re thinking—I’m losing it—and I might as well be. “Do you think this has been easy for me?”

“Well, you looked pretty happy with what’s-his-name over there.” He thumbs behind him, not even landing on Milo.

“What about you?” I scream, catching a few more glances. “Why are you here with me when you could be with
your
date, Zephyr?”

“This isn’t about me, this is about you,” he yells in return. “I’m taking you home.” Zephyr grabs my arm lightly, leading me toward the parked cars.

“I don’t want to go home with you.” I stop and pull but his grip only tightens. “I came here with a friend; I am leaving with that friend.”

“Like hell you are.”

Zephyr doesn’t listen to me. He instead pulls me toward the little blue car I didn’t notice when Milo pulled in—and he parked next to. He pulls open the passenger side door and motions for me to slide in.

I shake my head. “I’m not going, Zephyr,” I say, crossing my arms defiantly.

“My God, Joey, stop acting like a bratty little girl and get in the car.”

I shake my head, practically throwing a tantrum that would make a toddler in the toy aisle proud—maybe I’m not as
sobered up
as I thought. “No.”

“Joey.” Zephyr leans closer, his nose nearly touching mine. “
Get
. In. The.
Car
.”

If he thinks that’ll work on me, then he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks.

I snort, amazed at his idiocy. “No.” I push away from where his car is parked and start walking in the opposite direction. He can’t do this, not to me and not right now. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. We’re supposed to scream, we’re supposed to fight each other. He’s not supposed to want to save me, not now, not ever again. How does he not understand the break-up protocol? He’s done it more times than I have.

“Joey, I won’t tell you again—”

“Last time I checked, Zephyr, I can do whatever the hell I want when the hell I want to,” I shout back. “If I want to walk home, then screw you, I’m walking home.” Spinning, I start stomping toward the road, putting as much distance as my tiny legs will allow between us. I should look for Milo and endure Alexia to ask for a ride home but my mind stopped working correctly three beers ago.

“God
damn it
, you’re so stubborn,” he shouts.

I stop, planting my feet. “I’m stubborn,” I say barely loud enough for anyone to hear. I turn around; facing Zephyr as he charges toward me. “
I’m stubborn!
How
dare
you call
me
stubborn? You’re more stubborn and hardheaded than anyone I have ever met.”

“Obviously you haven’t dared to look in the mirror lately.” He rolls his eyes. “Now, I’m taking you home, Joey.
Don’t
.
Fight
.
Me
.”

“Fuck that, Zephyr. I don’t listen to you anymore,” I yell.

“When the hell did you ever listen to me?”

“
JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!
”

He steps back, his hands quickly pulling through his hair as he decides what he’s going to do. I’ve decided I don’t wish to go anywhere with him. I saw him, I saw him with her, and I don’t want to be anywhere near him right now. He should just go back to Blondie.

“I’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

“Have a great life, Zeph,” I call over my shoulder as I stomp toward the dirt road, ready to hoof it back to Lynnwood. That’s a good sixteen miles and five hours but I can do it.

If no one takes me for hostage on the way.

But before I even step a fuzzy boot on gravel, a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, lifting me from the grass and carrying me, spinning me around toward the parking lot. I kick out my legs, hoping to hit flesh but settling for shin. He still doesn’t drop me. “Put me down!” I scream, catching the attention of anyone and everyone surrounding us. “Zephyr! Put me down. I told you I don’t need you.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“Zephyr.
Let go of me
.” I beat my hands against his arms, hitting until I know I’ve bruised him, hearing every grunt as I connect again and again with the same spot—but his grip only tightens around me. The beer churns in my stomach. Not sickeningly—just enough to redistribute my drunkenness. “
Unhand me, you rogue!
” I shout before I realize it.

That filter between the brain and the mouth, well mine has stopped working.

“What the—?”

“Don’t make me unleash the kraken, you fiend!”

I can hear Zephyr laughing, feel his body bounce with every chuckle. “You’ve been spending too much time on the internet.”

I release a low growl, fighting his every move and make every threat and saying every random phrase my mind can create—
Don’t besmirch my honor!
—but I find myself back at the little blue car. Back where it all, well, not started…

The passenger door to his car is wide open as he sets me beside it, body blocking any escape attempt I could make.

I glare at him.

“Now, you’re going to get into this damn car using your own free will or, so help me, I will force you.” The look in his eyes tells me he isn’t joking. “Do you
want
to test me?” I stand up straighter, lifting up my head and throwing my shoulders back. Zephyr has never scared me before; he sure as hell does not scare me now. “I will forcefully, and probably painfully, shove you into this car. You are
not
walking home, not through the back streets of Seattle, not even through our neighborhood, at this time of night.”

Closing the space between us, I stare him down. “You can’t control what I do,” I tell him.

“I know that. But I can at least keep you safe.”

Safe
. The word steals my breath.
Safe means Zephyr
. It has always meant Zephyr. How can now be any different?

Releasing the deep breath I’ve been holding since he lifted me from the ground, I sit in his passenger seat, slamming the door shut. Luckily, only for him, no fingers were harmed. Tugging the seatbelt angrily, I make sure I’m considered safe by his standards as I watch him talk to the blonde by the bonfire. She nods and smiles—lightly touching his arm again. That bitch is flaunting the fact she touches him.
Bitch!
I squirm where I sit, too stunned to move further.

Must he do that in front of me?

It isn’t long before he’s seated next to me in the driver’s seat, cranking the car, and peeling down the street, speeding on the dirt road. No words spoken between us, the silence becomes overwhelming and we are only doing it to piss the other off.

But he’s the first to break that silence.

“What the hell is your issue?” he asks loudly. I scoff. “Seriously? What’s your problem tonight? Is it me? Because I thought this whole civil-fake-friends thing was working between us.” More silence passes and my arms tighten across my chest. “Talk to me, Joey.” I roll my eyes, pretending I can’t hear. “You’re going to talk to me or I’ll force you.”

I bark out a laugh. “I’d like to see you try,” I mutter under my breath, but he hears me. I know he does.

Zephyr pulls his car to the side of the road, pulling the parking brake and clicking the locks on the doors. As if that can stop me, I flick the lock back and pull on the handle, waiting for the click to sound… but nothing happens. I pull again, harder and harder, until I turn to him, nearing the livid part of this evening’s emotions. “You can’t keep me locked in here, Zephyr,” I tell him, just fighting the urge to claw his beautiful eyes out. I occupy myself instead with the handle, tugging and pulling, but it still won’t budge.

“It seems I’m doing a pretty good job.” He looks as pissed as I feel. “Child proof locks. I flicked it before I dragged you back. Now, you’re going to talk to me, or else—”

“
Or else what, Zephyr?
” Sometimes he drives me crazy. “I’m already fucking locked in your car. There’s nothing more you can do, here.”

Okay, more than
sometimes
.

“Then start talking to me!”

“Why do you think I’m mad at you, huh?” I begin. He wants me to talk. Then, fuck it—let’s talk. “You’re not that stupid. You’re not so daft that the mere thought didn’t fucking cross your mind that I might not
like
the idea of you—” I stop myself before I say anything dumber than I’ve already said. He doesn’t need to hear any of that. He doesn’t care—that’s all I need to tell myself,
he doesn’t care
.

“Like the idea of me…
what?
” Zephyr leans closer, trying to get a better look at me. “Come on, Joey, talk to me. You could talk to me before. You used to be able to talk to me.” He grabs my arms and turns me to face him, leaning closer until his eyes lock on mine. “So you’re not going to talk to me anymore. I can’t fix it if I don’t know the problem.” He can’t fix anything anymore, not for me. “Tell me the problem,” he begs in a whisper.

I shake my head, wishing I still had my hat.

“Tell me the fucking problem.”

I shake my head again.

“Joey!”

“
Her!”
I scream. “It’s her. You moved on so fucking fast and I…” I trail, thinking of how to say it. “I just couldn’t deal with it.”

[Pause for dramatic effect.]

“Oh, my God, are you serious?” he asks loudly. “This is all about Bridget?”
The Bitch has a name
. “You’re jealous?”

“What? I’m not allowed?”

“Well, no. You’re not,” he replies, leaning back in his seat. “God, Joey. You moved on,” he tells me. “You moved on so I moved on, that’s how this works. That’s how breakups work.”

“
How in the hell did I move on?
” I scream at him.

“Miles, Mallard—whatever the fuck his name is—you moved on with him fairly quickly.”

I lean away, backing away from him before I bite him—it’s a weird possibility. “You thought—you
think
I’m dating Milo?” I ask, confused and annoyed.

“Aren’t you?”

“No, you dipshit.” I yank my arms away, pulling back. “He’s just Milo.” I turn toward the windshield, yanking the tie from my hair. I shake my head. “Sorry. I don’t care what you do. Just… just take me home, please.” Dragging my hand through my hair, I pull the hair band onto my arm, letting it indent my wrist.

After a moment, I hear him say, “No,” quite calmly.

I keep my eyes trained through the window. “Zephyr, take me home, please.”

“I told you no.”

I turn to him, taking a deep breath to calm down before I snap. “That means nothing to me, I want to go—” before I can finish the sentence, Zephyr’s lips interrupt me, the force of his body pressing against mine, pushing me into the door. His hands fist the fabric of my sweatshirt, inching it and my other layers higher until he can reach beneath it, grasping at my scarred flesh.

It feels so nice, falling back into this. Kissing him, touching him, being with him. I pull him closer, wanting to press against him, wanting to hold onto him forever.

His hands sift through my hair, pulling lightly. His touch still sends fire through me, sends electricity through my veins. Zephyr’s hands on my sides, his fingers kneading gently against the exposed flesh, I want to stop time to feel this forever.

I pull away, needing to distract him. “We can’t.” I push away, my hands clasping his shoulders.

“We can,” he argues, leaning closer.

“Zephyr—”

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this.” The pain in his voice tears through me, nearly destroying me. “Don’t tell me any of that bullshit about how you did this for me; I don’t want to hear it. I want you and I want the truth.”

I shake my head. “I told you the truth.”

“I want you to tell me the truth, Joey.” Zephyr stares at me, staring into me and through me, seeking something I don’t want to say. “Something happened that night, something happened on New Year’s Eve and I don’t know what.” I can’t tell him. “I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything. At least, you could at some point. I want you to tell me what happened.”