I don't want to hear anything bad about the woman who gave her life to look after us.
Suddenly, I'm moving. My front leaves the car and I'm spun around until it's my back against the cool metal.
Luca's hand leaves my mouth, his fingers curling around the top of his car and pinning me in.
"Don't even think about calling for help, Little Girl."
A weird mix of comfort and hatred races through me at his use of the name he used to call me all those years ago. It was always a joke because I was a couple of weeks younger than him. But right now, it feels anything like a joke and everything like a threat.
I am little compared to him. I always was. But in our time apart he's grown, both in height and bulk, and I already know that I don't stand a chance against him.
My lips part, but no noise passes them, just a large exhale as I stare into his dark eyes. I know they're the most incredible green, but right now, hidden in the darkness, it's hard to see.
He stares at me as if he can't believe I'm actually standing before him.
His chest heaves, his full lips parted as he fights to keep his cool.
"You shouldn't have come back here," he warns, his voice low and cold in a way I remember all too well from the last time we spoke.
"I-I—"
"No," he barks. "I don't want your pity story, Peyton."
I swallow down the argument that was on the tip of my tongue, although I already know that it was weak at best because there is no way I'm telling him the truth. I'm not giving him any more ammunition to hurt me than he already thinks he has.
"Did you think you would turn up here and I wouldn't find you?"
I stare at him, willing him to see the truth in my eyes.
I didn't have any other option.
"Or is that exactly what you wanted? That I would find you and that I'd have forgotten? Did you think that I'd put all your lies behind me and that we could just pick back up where we left off?" He spits the words as if even saying them disgusts him. "Did you really miss me that much?"
Internally, I scream yes. Yes, I really missed him that much. When we first moved away, I'd have done anything to have my best friend back. Literally anything. But I knew there was no way it was going to happen. Just like I don't think it's going to happen now either.
"Let's see what you've had on offer tonight then. See if we can make all of this worthwhile for me."
"W-wha—"
I'm frozen in shock as he lifts his hand to the zipper on the front of my hoodie and pulls it down.
Unlike last night, this one actually belongs to me. The moment I put it on, I missed the comfort of Elijah's. It's crazy but it's like some weird security blanket.
The cool winter air washes over my exposed skin, making me shiver. That is until his eyes drop from mine and scorch a trail over my skin.
Then I'm burning up. My blood boiling from the inside from the way that he's making me feel.
But it's not for him. It's not lust or my desire for him to touch me.
It's shame.
Red hot shame for the person I've become, the woman he's standing before after all these years and what I've lowered myself to.
It's no surprise he doesn't like me. Every time I come to this place and put in a shift, I hate myself a little bit more.
It's just a means to an end, I tell myself. My family needs me, and this is the best way I can help.
But that knowledge doesn't make it any better.