Page 55 of Ablaze

She pulls herself together, surveying Warren with heartbroken and betrayed watery eyes before squaring her shoulders and heading toward an open room in the back of the house.

My phone vibrates in my pocket for the fifth or sixth time. Fuck. It’s probably Jessie, wondering where the hell I am. I’m over an hour late.

I pull it out, stepping away from Warren. He hoists himself up, stumbling as he disappears into the bathroom. Goddamn piece of shit.

I read the first message, running a hand over my face. “Shit.”

Jessie: Hey, where are you?

There are four more after it. One from just a few seconds ago, along with a picture of the picnic she has set up with various sandwiches and a champagne bottle lying next to a pair of flutes.

Jessie: Seriously, where are you, Dean? I’ve called you a hundred times. Unless you’re in the hospital, at least have the decency to message me back and tell me you can’t make it.

I sigh, knowing I’m going to pay for this later, but also knowing there’s no other place I’d rather be right now than with Mala.

Me: I’m sorry, Jess. I got tied up with something urgent. Unfortunately, I’m not going to make it today. Any chance I could get a rain check?

I’m not surprised when her response comes in a moment after.

Jessie: Go fuck yourself and your urgent issue, Dean Meyer.

With a sigh, I pad over to the room where Mala is gathering her stuff, clenching my jaw as I try to avoid the bed she likely spent every night in over the last two years with that piece of shit.

I busy myself with pulling some of her clothes from the hangers in the closet—she tells me to leave some fancy dresses and heels that don’t seem like they could even be hers—and throwing them into a suitcase.

Forty-five minutes later, we’re on our way out. I don’t have the slightest intention of acknowledging the jackass standing in the corner with his head hung low, but I can’t miss him, either. There’s a paper towel stuffed up his nose and he’s holding an ice pack on his cheek.

Mala tenses at the sight of him, but I place my hand on the small of her back and guide her forward, giving him another disgusted look.

I need to get her the fuck out of here.

We’ve just stepped out onto the porch when Warren’s voice resounds, making Mala stiffen again. “I was never going to have your heart, was I, Mala? How could I when it always belonged to someone else?”

Part Two

THE RECENT

Theme Song:”Left and Right” by Charlie Puth

Chapter Seventeen

DEAN

Fifteen Months Ago

“Of all the trucks you could have bought, you had to buy the one that feels like taking a hike up Mount Everest?” Mala releases my hand as soon as I help her into the passenger seat of my new truck. In fairness, she really didn’t do much work to get in since I pretty much picked her up and put her there, but I know if I say as much, she’ll bust my balls.

Plus, I have no reason to tell her that since I like being able to pick her up any chance I get.

I swing around to the driver’s side of the truck, shaking off the snow on my leather jacket and my hair before getting inside. Looking at her, I wait until she’s buckled. “It’s not a hike up Everest for the majority of us who kept growing past third grade.”

As expected, she punches my arm. “Jerk. I did grow past the third grade. Some of us just don’t have the ogre genes you do.”

I shake my head somberly. “You’re going to regret saying that when I tell Grams you called her an ogre.”

Mala’s mouth drops. “I wasn’t calling her an ogre, I was calling you one!”

I shrug, backing out of her driveway. “That’s not what I heard. I heard you insulting my genetic makeup and my lineage–a part of which comes from Grams.” I look at Mala, reveling in the way I’ve made her cheeks flush. Getting her worked up is one of the finer joys in life. “Grams the ogre; I’m telling her you said it.”

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