Page 2 of Hate Wrecked

“I don’t needyouto do that. Protect me.”

“You need me to drive you, at least.” He looks around me, angling his body to get eyes on the suitcase. “Can you give me that damn thing, Riley, so we can get on with this?”

I move aside, wringing my hands as he grabs the suitcase, nodding toward the exit as he says, “This way.” I follow in a trance.

I don’t keep in touch with my former stepfather. I made a conscious decision to let go of that part of my life—let it fade away from my mind. However, whenever I think of my mother, the resentment I feel toward her ex-husband resurfaces, which happens on a daily basis.

Rowan leads me to a black car, opens the trunk, and places my belongings inside. Then he rushes over as I stand next to the passenger door, still lost in confusion, resentment, and anger.

When Rowan opens the door, I stand there. His impatience is thinly veiled when he speaks. “Are you going to get in?”

I look at the man before me, as if pulled from a dream, pulled from my past—sharp jaw, auburn hair, and the bluest eyes. The way they used to look at me is gone. “I’m just trying to catch up,” I say, adjusting my purse so I can lower myself into the passenger seat.

I watch him as he walks around the car; the slow sway of his arms is still incredibly beautiful. I’ve always loved the way he moves—the sureness in his steps, even when he was unsure of me.

He opens the driver’s door, sits, and slips the key into the ignition. No hesitation. No asking me about my flight or how I’ve been. I am a task he must complete.Pick Riley up. Get Riley to set. Don’t let Riley fuck up my heart and life.

I stare ahead, swallowing loudly in the car. “How long have you been working for my mother?”

“Since about a year after the divorce.”

I calculate. Not long after the incident. Not long after I cut her out of my life. “What made you quit working for Asa?”

“I think you know what made me quit working for him. I never should have went back, but I?—”

He doesn’t say why he went back, but I think I know. Or maybe I’m still dreaming. It’s not surprising that someone as straight and narrow as Rowan Finn wouldn’t want to work with someone like my ex-stepfather. Asa is the antithesis of Rowan, who trained for his profession protecting someone he would never want to know in daylight hours, never want to be near in the night. Someone I loved, thought of as family, and watched tear down our house. Someone the world favors. The face plastered next to my mother’s on the covers of gossip magazines.

Someone I wish never took my mother’s heart. Never tookours. He didn’t have what it took to build a family. He was a party boy playing dress-up as a husband.

And my mother risked it all—riskedus—for him.

I never wanted to think of a man like a drug.Never.I saw her do it. I saw it break her down and destroy everything good in the mother I once loved.

But part of me can understand it, sitting here with Rowan Finn.

I can feel my body reacting to his closeness as he drives us to our destination. I can feel my heart reaching for memories I have long since buried. Memories that make me feel alive and just as quickly make me wish I could cleave myself from this body and all it’s done.Muscle memory.

Memories I need to forget if I aim to survive this week.

BAGGAGE

ROWAN

You’ll find,in this life, that many people are simply a mess,—a walking cry for help. Unfortunately, I love to help; I was born for it. I revel in it. But sometimes, the constant giving will wear you down, strip you of everything you have inside, leaving you broken and bare.

Years ago, I had to distance myself from Riley Williams. I needed space to breathe and see things clearly. But it seems the distance I put between us wasn’t enough. Even after all this time, I still find myself grappling with the aftermath of our relationship. Maybe, in some twisted way, I believed that, by taking care of Riley’s mother, I was still helping Riley. That helping someone in need would heal some part of myself. And that by caring for Riley’s mother, I could help my own mother recover from the trauma inflicted upon her by my father.

I’m beginning to realize that helping others doesn’t always mend my own wounds.

The drive to set is short but seems to stretch on as the silence in the rental car envelopes Riley and me. She fiddles with her hands in her lap and looks out the window. The shadow of Asa and our conversation at the airport lingers.

Seeing me again reminded her of him. I hate that for her—for myself.

“How have you been?” Riley asks, turning to me as we pull into the lot.

I start backing into a parking space, placing my arm on Riley’s seat in the process. A mistake. I can smell her.Fuck.I speak through gritted teeth. “Fine. You?”

“Good. Got out of LA. I spend most of my time in Katonah.”

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