Page 45 of Never Started
“What’s her name?” I ask, my voice cutting through the silence in the room.
Her friend stills, going stiff for a moment. “You don’t know her name, yet you brought her home?”
I chuckle softly. “Would you rather I have left her passed out on the floor?”
She rolls her eyes dramatically, but I can see her posture relax. “Fair. But I won’t give you her name. That isn’t my—”
“Does she… Is this normal for her?” I find myself asking before I can stop the words from escaping. I can’t help but want to know everything there is to know.
“Lately, yeah,” her friend responds, throwing me a soft glare.
Before I can stop myself, my mouth opens and the words pour out. “Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be a little concerned?” I know it isn’t my business, but like I said, I find myself becoming strangely protective of this girl.
Her glare hardens, causing me to shift on my feet. “What makes you think I’m not?”
“I mean…” I swallow, not sure if I should say more. But of course I fucking do. “You just tucked her into bed like this is a normal, nightly thing. If she were my friend——”
“Well, she isn’t,” she cuts in. “You don’t know her, and you don’t know me.” Her words are cold, and the stone-cold look on her face gives away that I accidentally struck a nerve.
Sighing, I rub the back of my neck. “You’re right, sorry. I should get going.”
She walks over to me, leads me out of the room, closes the door behind us, and ushers me toward the front door of the tiny house.
“Thanks for bringing them home,” she says, practically pushing me out the door, leaving no room for me to respond before she closes it. I hear the locks set in place.
I get it.Stranger danger and all. So, I quickly make my way back to my truck and pull out to put her worries at ease. The last thing I want to do is make the only sober person in the house more uncomfortable than she already is.
I wish I could say that this was it. That after seeing her again, she’s finally out of my system. Because let's face it—I’ve been wound up with thoughts of my mystery girl since I saw her for the first time two years ago.
But I can already tell she’s managed to only implant herself further into my thoughts. I won’t forget her anytime soon.
She can’t be good for me, with her free spirit, quick sass, and no-fucks-given attitude—but damn, do I want her. She’s so much more than she shows to the world. She’s the girl who fights through the darkness that life throws at her, and somehow, manages to find strength, even when it’s the hardest thing she could possibly do.
The sad part is, I don’t even know her name. Nor do I have her phone number. And I leave tomorrow afternoon to head back to Louisiana to close on the house I bought. So, truth be told, our paths will probably never cross again.
She’ll forever remain my mystery girl.
Chapter twenty
Jett
April 2019
Replay.
Replay.
Replay.
This can't be.
I watch it again and again. Each time I hit replay, the ache of panic and the rush of anger that causes my chest to ache grow even stronger.
I swipe out of the app and go to my contacts, dialing the number before thinking better of it.
Making my way out of the spare bedroom, I roll my eyes, looking over the stranger lying in the bed. I don't even remember this one's name.
It rings a few times before the voice on the other end echoes through the speaker.
