18. Chapter 18

18

Heath

What the fuck am I doing?

Why am I sharing a meal with a girl and having fun? Okay, scratch the last part. I'm not having fun.

Liar.

"—are so beautiful. I wonder how they make it," Hope rambles about something as she sips her chocolate smoothie. She loves that shit.

How do I know? It's her eyes. Whenever she sips it, her eyes spark up in delight.

"Make what?" I ask.

She gulps the smoothie. "Maps in books. They're so pretty."

Of course, she's talking about books. She loves them more than anything else in the world.

"There are fucking maps?" I have no idea about books.

She nods. "In fantasy books, there's world-building, so there are maps to navigate as you read. A whole world resides in a book. It's amazing."

I watch the way her lips move as she explains. Her vibrant smile is like a final brush stroke just before a masterpiece is complete.

"You must have a favorite," I say, not hating the fact that I'm making conversation. I want her to speak more because she looks entranced when she talks about books. A look I've never seen on her face before, one I'm starting to like on her face.

Fucking dammit.

Hope chews her bottom lip in thought. Something visceral and primal shifts within me by that act. Something that has never happened before with another girl.

What the fuck is this?

Finally, she replies, "The Harry Potter series. I've only read the first book, but it was enough to get me hooked."

From the corner of my eye, I catch a guy staring at Hope with a look that makes me want to bury him in the ground. Keep your fucking eyes off her, asshole!

Turning in my seat, I shield her view and glare at him through the faint image on the window. He sees me and cowers away. Good.

"Why haven't you read it?" I distract her so she doesn't notice.

Just like before her hands fidget with each other. I know right away she is uneasy. The question is why.

"My mother isn't a fan of me reading books, so she doesn't buy me the series. I tried saving up money to go to the city and look for them in a bookstore. The fare alone would cost me more than a hundred bucks, but that's my best option. The library here doesn't have it. The librarian always gives them away in schools or some kid is always reading them."

I don't like her mother.

A gloomy look passes over her face and her eyes further lose their light. She looks sad.

My heart claws my chest in an ache I haven't felt for anyone in a long time. Not after all the shit that went down last year. This is different and more personal. I have no idea why it matters to me.

Hope is just some girl. I shouldn't feel like this toward her—this need to take away her sadness or protect her from danger. Whenever I am with her, she calms the chaos within me.

"Someday I'll read it." With a smile, she shakes off the sadness like it's a speck of dust.

Once we're done at the diner, I drop her home and then drive to Sebastian's place with a heart that refuses to settle down. All my thoughts circle back to the girl who's fucking up my emotional equilibrium.

The only emotions I feel are anger, guilt, and more anger. That's how I function. Every day I wake up with a storm of rage that consumes me all day, and at night comes in the wave of guilt that lulls me to sleep.

Out of nowhere Hope came around and disturbed everything I've been feeling since last year. I don't like it one bit. I like being in control, but with every interaction with her, I feel like I'm losing the ropes of my restraint.

I get inside his apartment using the spare key and find him playing a video game.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Sebastian spares me a glance before turning back to his game.

I shut the door. "I need to talk to you."

He switches off his game and faces me. "So, you apologized to her, didn't you?"

I scowl at his twinkling smile. "Yes."

That damn smile splits into a grin. "Will you look at that? My best friend is becoming a softie."

I roll my eyes as I take a seat beside him on the couch. "I'm not a softie."

Heat crawls up my neck as I think about it.

"You like her."

I glare. "I don't like her. How many times—"

"You're turning red, Heath." He folds his arms and smirks arrogantly.

I don't think I can deny it anymore. Fuck it. I'm done lying.

Leaning over my knees, I hang my head low. "There's something fucking wrong with me. Whenever I'm near her I can't seem to pull away. Her voice. Fuck. It does something to me. There's also the instinct to protect her because I know someone's hurting her."

"You mentioned that to me before. Why do you think that?"

I think of lying to him. It won't help given things might get worse. I'll need help to bury a body. He needs to be by my side.

Looking him dead in the eye, I say, "You can't tell Marie."

Sebastian stiffens. "You know I can't do that. I'm always honest with her."

"I'm not telling you to lie to her. I'm just saying don't mention it to her. That's different ."

"It's the same to me," he replies curtly.

Times like these I want to strangle him.

"It's important, Bash. You know how Marie is. She won't think and jump headfirst and force Hope to tell her everything." I take a deep breath. "Once I'm certain we'll tell her."

That's the closest I can get him to agree to this. If I'm going after that person who's hurting Hope, I need my best friend with me.

He lets out a groan. "Fine. Now, tell me. I have to cook dinner as well."

"What are you making tonight?"

"Pasta."

He prepares a container of pasta and sets it on the stove. Getting two knives and a slicing board he hands me the vegetables.

"I'm not your fucking maid," I grumble but get to work.

He chuckles as he joins me. "So, what is it? You're creating so much suspense and haven't said a word about it."

"Someone is hurting Hope."

Sebastian gives me a side-eye. "This again! What makes you say that?"

Images fill my mind. I refuse to focus on them knowing I'll do something reckless.

"I've seen fucking marks on her. Someone choked her hard enough to leave bruises, and a few days later she had them on her wrist. I believe someone is physically abusing her. I just don't know who that person is." I let it all out.

"Are you sure?" he asks slowly as if he can't grasp the gravity of the situation.

" I'm sure . I know what I saw. Since Emery I'm…" my throat grows thick. I hate myself for getting weak. I can't get past that tragedy—I never will. "Believe me."

The pasta boils and he starts to make the sauce. Like robots, we work around the kitchen.

"We should tell Marie," he mentions again.

"Seriously, I don't need your pussy-whipped brain right now. As I said, we'll tell her later."

"Then we should get someone else involved."

"Like who?"

"Issac Anderson?"

I glare at him.

Marie's dad holds a sweet spot for Sebastian and is always trying to help him in whatever way he can. Marie is the driving force behind it, but in the end what matters is that her dad is like a fatherly figure to Sebastian. A hole my best friend has been trying to fill for years because his dad walked out on him.

I also have a hole in my chest residing next to the enormous gap my sister's death drilled in. My parents walking out on me and not wanting me hurts. I never got to experience love and care. All I know is how the house staff takes care of a kid as their own. Kelly and Derek have raised me. They're more of parents to me than the ones who brought me into this world.

"Not until we're sure, Bash," I tell him as I dump the vegetables in the pot.

"Fine."

Ten minutes later we sit on the couch with the plates full of pasta in our laps.

"So, we were talking about someone hurting Hope?"

I nod. " And not telling Marie."

"I agreed to that?"

"You fucking did," I assert with force.

"If it's true then Marie would be heartbroken. She loves Hope already. She's finally found a friend. She won't think twice before getting to the bottom of this."

"All the more reason to keep her away."

He ignores my warning. "Until we find out who's behind it."

I hum in response, not giving him a definite answer purposefully. "I asked Hope, but she refused to tell me."

His fork clatters on the plate. "What the actual fuck?"

"What?" My eyebrows raise.

With a loud sigh, he continues, "You can't ask such fucking questions, Heath. Not with such straightforwardness. It's not right. Things like these take time to tell someone else."

"I don't fucking get it."

"Have you told her about your sister?"

I nod.

His green eyes widen into saucers and his mouth opens in bewilderment.

How am I supposed to tell him that talking about my sister to Hope was the easiest thing I've ever done? When it was supposed to be anything but that.

That girl is fucking with my body chemicals. I'm not functioning normally anymore.

"What the fuck?" He gapes at me like a chimpanzee.

"Shut your mouth for fuck's sake."

"You do know that it's a big deal. You don't go around telling people about her. Christ, it took you weeks to even speak about her to me. I'm your bestest friend—"

"Best friend," I correct.

"—and you told Hope. Damn. She's really got you by the balls."

"Funny."

"It is."

I divert the conversation before he can hear how loud my heart is beating. "Her mom seems off to me. I haven't met her, but the way Hope talks about her. She could be the one hurting her."

A glare is sent my way. Clearly, he doesn't like my opinion.

"Don't you go and accuse her of abusing Hope. It would fuck up things. For both Hope and us. If she is the one, then we need proof or something to hold her accountable."

"So we wait?" I spit out in anger. He can't be serious.

"Yes."

"She could do much more damage to Hope, Bash. Do you have any idea—"

"I know, Heath. You know I do." A multitude of emotions flash across his face and his eyes darken in color, rich with the animosities he had to endure.

I shut up knowing damn well he knows better than me because he's been through something similar. For fuck's sake. I hate that he went through it.

School and police are out of the question. Marie was bullied every day for months by a trio of mean girls and the teachers and the counselor did shit to help her. She reached out in the hope that someone would help her, but no one did. It got worse until Sebastian met her and learned about it. He shared it with me to look out for her. I wasted no opportunity to chase those girls away from hurting Marie. How she is today is nothing like the girl I met last year. There was no self-confidence, courage, or bravery. She was weak, terrified, and malleable. Those girls snubbed her at every chance they got, and Marie didn't do anything—mainly because she couldn't. I hate both the teachers and the students at school for being fucking cowards and idiots. There's no way I'm telling them a thing. They won't do anything. Useless fucking bunch.

Police on the other hand might drop Hope into foster care if her mother is found guilty of abusing her. That scenario creates an ache in me that I'm sure I won't survive. I don't want her to be fucking away from me. I like it when she's close to me. I like it a lot.

There has to be another way to keep her safe. I will find it out.

"Heath, don't tell me you are—"

"What if I am?"

His face hardens. "We can't just barge in and swoop her out when you aren't even sure it's her mom. Besides, she must be under eighteen, so she'll be thrown into foster care. You have no idea the horrors that occur there."

Agitation wraps around me like a vice as I burst out, "What I'm supposed to fucking do then? Leave her the fuck alone?"

Shaking his head he gives me a tender look that simmers down my anger a bit. "The only thing you can do is be her friend and try to be there for her. There's a big chance that she'd tell you or ask for your help. Then we can think about doing something."

Frustration swirls like a tornado inside of me and gives rise to the brimming fire of helplessness.

"I can't be her fucking friend."

Sebastian watches me with an amusing smirk. "Of course, you can't be. You like her."

I shoot him a glare, but his smirk morphs into a grin and he wiggles his eyebrows at me. "Cat caught your tongue, James?"

"You fucking know all about that, huh? You friend-zoned Marie because you were a pussy to admit your feelings."

Shaking his head he says, "I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

"So you watched her date other people."

"It was two dates for Christ's sake."

I smirk. "Two dates that got your balls twisted. It was fun watching you roll in misery over some girl."

"She wasn't some girl then and she isn't some girl now. She's always been special."

I scoff in amusement.

Feelings are pathetic, especially love. It's a misconception, made up by the world turning people into fools. A disease that plagues minds and hearts leaving only ruins in the end.

"Be her friend, Heath. Sometimes that's all a person needs."

"I don't do friendships with girls."

"Hope is not some girl."

No, she isn't.