40. Monroe

FORTY

monroe

The last week had felt like nothing but a battle between Zepp and me. The love hazed bliss of only weeks before felt like a distant memory, and I couldn't pinpoint the moment when it changed or why. There were moments when he looked at me like I was his entire world, and others where he felt so far away that it was as though he wasn't even in the same room.

I got to his house, and Hendrix answered the door, a headset on his head, and a bag of chips in his hand.

"Zepp isn't here." He rammed a chip into his mouth, crumbs falling to his shirt.

I stepped inside, and he wandered back into the living room, electronic gunfire rang out before Hendrix shouted at whoever was playing online with him. I typed out a text to Zepp on my way up to his room.

Me: Where are you?

Without him here, it seemed so empty. My phone dinged.

Asshole: Out

A weird sensation settled in my chest. It was somewhere between panic and anger, and honestly, I was getting fed up with whatever this shit was.

His closed sketchbook sat on his desk, tempting me to look, even though it was off-limits. I trailed my fingers over the matte-black surface, debating it. It was an invasion of privacy, but at a time when I couldn't read Zepp, that book had told me more than words ever could.

I picked it up, thumbing through the pages until I came to the last picture. A car? His most recent drawings were random objects, some just blurs of color. His sketches were usually emotive, but these were just…nothing. And that almost worried me more.

It was past midnight when Zepp slipped into bed beside me, whiskey strong on his breath. "You're still here," he asked.

"Did you ride home drunk?"

"No." His arm came around me, tugging me close. "You shouldn't care, though."

Of course I should care. I loved him. And that comment annoyed me. "Why wouldn't I care?"

"I didn't say you wouldn't." His hand pressed between my thighs, and I clamped my legs shut. "I said you shouldn't ."

"Well, great. That really clears shit up, Zepp."

"Don't." He slurred against my throat. "Don't do that. I want you, Roe."

My temper bubbled to the surface, driven by hurt. He hadn't touched me in days, and it felt an awful lot like he was avoiding me. I just couldn't work out what I'd done. "Do you? Or is it just because you're drunk?"

"I always want you, Roe." His mouth covered mine, and as hard as I fought it, I caved for him. Until hot, angry tears stung my eyes. Then I shoved away from him and sat up, pushing the comforter away.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home."

"This is your home." It shouldn't have felt like a blade in the ribs, but it did. I grabbed my shirt and tugged it over my head. "I didn't stay here, just to be a hole for you to stick your drunk dick in."

"Then why did you wait?" He got out of bed, stumbling to the side before regaining his balance.

"You know what. I don't know." I threw my hands into the air, hating that I suddenly felt so unimportant to him. Like I could be any girl in his bed.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let me. "I need you, Roe." His lips pressed to my neck. Warm and soft. "I love you. Please…" The sad thing was, I craved his touch, his love, and I hated myself for it. "I'm sorry I've been a dick. I just…" He kissed my throat again.

"You what, Zepp?"

"Don't deserve you." His hand crept over my chest. "But fuck, I'm selfish."

"You're only selfish when you're a dick."

A soft laugh rumbled over my skin. "If only that were the truth. We'd be good."

Which meant we weren't good. Or at least he didn't think so. I was losing him, and it felt like I was clinging on by my fingernails. "I love you, Zepp." It was a confession, a plea.

"And I fucking love you."

Then why did this suddenly feel so complicated? Within seconds, he had me undressed and pinned to the mattress, his heavy body on top of mine. His mouth covered mine.

"I would marry you if I could."

And I'd give him forever if he'd let me, but I knew he wouldn't. He moved slow and steady, so unlike him. I grabbed his face and kissed him, the taste of whiskey transferring from his tongue to mine.

He shifted me until I was straddling his lap. "You fucked me up, Roe."

"You fucked me up, too." My hips rolled over him. My body sought him out as naturally as it drew breath. Then he buried himself so deep my lungs caught.

"I'm sorry."

I gripped his hair and touched my forehead to his. "You screwed me up in the best way, though."

"I really didn't." He guided my hips over his for a minute, closing his eyes. "But, I promise, no one will ever mean as much as you."

And those words chased away every trace of pleasure in my body because he'd just told me we had no future. That someone else would come after me. Tears stung my eyes, and I forced them back.

He groaned into my throat, his body stiffening beneath me, fingers digging into my hips like he'd never let me go before he collapsed to the bed.

His ragged breaths broke the silence while I laid, staring at the dark ceiling. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him. No one will ever mean as much as you . The words went round and round my mind, until I'd twisted them every way, trying to convince myself they meant anything other than the only thing they possibly could.

"I'd do anything to make you happy," he said.

"Then why are you trying to leave me?"

He exhaled, then shifted on the bed. "I'm not."

We were right beside one another, yet there was a void of space between us, a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air. "You will, though." People always left.

"No." A hard exhale left his lips. "I'm too selfish to leave you."

Anger flared up inside me, frustration and pain bubbling over. I pitched up on my elbow, glaring down at him. Too selfish to leave me? The past week, I had barely seen him, and when we were together, it felt like we were miles apart. Was he trying to push me away so I would leave him ?

Moments passed. "Why are you doing this?" I whispered.

His fingers skimmed my waist. "I love you, Roe."

I was so confused. But this wasn't supposed to be complicated. I loved him. He loved me, and none of this was fair. He was playing with my heart, and I was just along for the ride. I needed off before he messed me up beyond recognition, but I didn't know how.

Fighting my emotions, I got out of bed and dressed. Hating that I wanted to stay while having to go. I was just a girl who was hopeless for a boy. Even though I knew he would break me.

"You leaving?" Hurt laced his voice.

"Yeah." My voice hitched. I took a step toward the door, then stopped, turning to look at him. The mattress springs groaned as he flipped onto his front, ignoring me completely.

It wasn't until I hit the street corner and texted Jade, asking for a ride, that I broke down. Pain lanced through my chest. Ugly sobs clawed at me until I couldn't breathe. He said he loved me, but he didn't try to stop me from leaving. He had just let me go.

He let me go…

Jade spent most of the drive looking at me every two seconds like she expected me to have a mental breakdown at any moment. When she dropped me off, I could tell she was reluctant to leave, but I didn't want to be around anyone right now.

I made my way up the rickety steps as her Jeep chugged away. I stopped at the door, staring at the piece of paper fluttering in the breeze. An eviction notice. I ripped it off, balling it my fist as I shoved inside, the stress and tension mounting. It felt like the whole world was against me right now.

No surprise, my mom was cracked out on the sofa, eyes half shut, and a syringe on the floor. I wished I had a mom who would be here for me, but I didn't have time for self-pity. The tears started again. We would lose our home if I didn't pay the damn rent, and I had enough saved up to cover a few months. I went to my room and dropped to my knees beside the chest of drawers. My palm slid down to the hole in the pressboard, and my heart rate ticked up when my fingers met nothing but wood. In a panic, I yanked out the bottom drawer, frantically searching for the money I had spent a year of my life stripping to save up, and now…

Rage tore through me as I stormed into the living room. I was so tired of the world taking a shit on me, and the only thing—the only person that made anything seem worthwhile, had turned out to be a letdown as well. Because people always left, whether physically or mentally, like my mom—they left.

I kicked my mother's leg. "Did you take my money?"

Her head lolled to the side, and an incoherent groan slipped from her lips.

"God, I fucking hate you!" I screamed, wanting some sort of acknowledgment, but she didn't even respond to my hate. There was nothing that could make her do a damn thing besides a bit of crack. It didn't matter now. Either she took the money or Jerry did, but it was long gone.

It felt like the weight of the world pressed down on my shoulders. A continuous stream of tears tracked down my face. Whatever it was in me that had somehow remained intact through all the awful shit I had endured, Zepp had managed to break. Loving him had made me weak.

For the last two days, I had tried to pretend my life was normal. I tried to forget that I had left Zepp's house in the middle of the night. That he hadn't bothered to call me or text. That he ignored me in the hallways at school.

I thought my life was hard before, but this was a new breed of agony. His rejection wasn't obvious; it was more of a low burn, eating away at me minute by minute, hour by hour. A soul-deep ache.

My mom bumbled around in the kitchen. We were out of money, waiting on money from the government, and I was having to ration her crack, which meant she was almost lucid. The crash of pots and pans made my head hurt.

"Mom," I said, stepping to the doorway. "Did you get those checks from the state yet?"

She fiddled with the gas. "Not yet, baby." We were going to get evicted in four days. I was running out of time. She looked at me, the wildness in her eyes still for once. A line sunk between her brows as she stared at me. "You okay, baby?" The softness in her voice tore open old wounds.

It had been years since I had heard her sound like she gave a shit. Her arms came around me, and though she smelled like death, I fell into her embrace, fighting back the tears.

After a few minutes, she pulled back, grabbing my face and swiping her thumbs below my eyes. "Whoever he is, he's not worth your tears."

For the briefest moment, I was eight years old again, and my mom was cleaning a cut knee, caring about me. But it was just a pretty lie. As soon as the drugs came, she would no longer care.

"I have to go." I fought back a sob on my way through the door. I had to do something.

My frayed nerves were on edge as I made my way down the deserted alley. The smell of urine from homeless people was staggering, and I held my breath. I had been driving around in the cold for over an hour, trying to find something I could steal, a car tucked away from the main roads and that would bring in at least a grand, and in Dayton, that was a tall order.

This Nissan at the end of the cramped throughway would have to do. I breathed a sigh of relief when I tried the handle and the car was unlocked. I checked the alleyway before I slipped behind the wheel and fiddled with the steering column. It took longer than usual to pop the thing loose, and every few minutes, I was checking the rearview to make sure I was still alone. The tangled mess of wires fell free, and I started stripping them. I twisted the ends, waiting for the engine to crank, but nothing happened.

"Shit." I tried again, nervous sweat forming on my brow. But again, nothing. And then a tap came from the window. I froze, swearing under my breath when I glanced up at Officer Jacob's smug face on the other side of the glass.

He opened the door. "Well, well, well. Looks like you're having a problem getting it started."

I groaned. Of all the cars I'd stolen, it was this one, the one I actually needed that I got caught for. And of all the cops in Dayton, it had to be him.

He motioned me out with a jerk of his chin, then circled his finger in the air. The moment I spun around, he cuffed my wrists, then led me to his patrol car.

"Watch your head, now," he said, placing a hand on me when I ducked into the cramped back seat. Jacobs stood by the door, one hand on the roof, the other on his belt loop. "Shame. You know? Smart girl getting messed up with the wrong guy. Fucking your whole future up for some worthless boy."

For once, though, this had nothing to do with Zepp. The door slammed, and he rounded the hood, whistling when he climbed into the front and pulled away. I was eighteen, and this—grand theft auto—would ruin any hope I had for a scholarship; for a future outside of Dayton. Tears stung my eyes as I watched the shit hole town I called home pass by the window. Turned out, Zepp was right; there was no getting out of Dayton.

The cuffs bit into my wrists when I tried to lean back against the seat, so I rested my forehead against the plexiglass divider and closed my eyes. I tried to drown out the muffled sound of the scanner calling in cases of overdoses and assaults until the police car finally rolled to a stop.

Jacobs' door opened, then closed, and I lifted my head, a fog of confusion clouding my brain when I looked through the window at the sagging front porch of Zepp's house. Jacobs twirled his keys around his finger, a little pep in his step as he jogged up the front steps.

Why the hell was he at Zepp's house?

Zepp's frame filled the doorway as the light from inside cut across the lawn. My heart let out a pathetic little hiccup, and I sucked in a painful breath when his gaze strayed to the street. He dragged a hand through his hair on a nod, then stepped outside. Jacobs smiled when he placed a pair of cuffs on Zepp's wrist. Taking him by the shoulders, he forced him toward the stairs. What was he doing? Why was Zepp being arrested?

Zepp's gaze dropped to the ground when Jacobs stopped him at the curb, then opened my door. "Seems there was a misunderstanding." He motioned me out before unfastening my restraints. "You're free to go, Miss James."

"What?" I glanced between the two of them. "Zepp, what are you doing?" Tears filled my eyes as realization crept over me. Jacobs had been after Zepp for so long, and now Zepp was taking the fall. "No, you caught me red-handed. Arrest me," I said to Jacobs.

"The suspect is in custody, Miss James. I suggest you move along now."

"Zepp?" My voice broke. He had priors, and he was eighteen. They'd lock him up for sure. "Don't do this." But Jacobs shoved him into the back of the cruiser.

"Told you I was gonna go to jail for something, Roe. Might as well be you." Then the door slammed closed, and Jacobs climbed behind the wheel, flashing the lights before he peeled off.

"What the fuck?" Hendrix shouted from the porch. Footfalls jogged down the steps and across the drive before he skidded to a stop beside me, staring down the street. "Did Jacobs arrest Zepp? What the hell for?"

For me. "Grand theft auto," I whispered.

"There's no way the guys at the chop shop would rat him out. No fucking way!" He clasped his hands behind his head, elbows out as he mumbled, "We haven't even lifted a car in weeks."

No, but I had, and I couldn't bring myself to tell Hendrix that his brother had just traded himself for me.

His narrowed gaze aimed at me. "Why are you here?"

I sucked in a breath. "I got arrested."

Hendrix's jaw set. "Fuck you, Monroe." Then he turned his back to me and headed toward his house.

"I didn't ask him to do this!" I shouted after him, my voice breaking.

He flipped me off before the door slammed.

Screw him, and screw Zepp for being so self-deprecating that he would take the fall for this. A sob caught in my throat at the thought of him in jail. Because of me. He didn't deserve it.

The past month had been shit. I'd heard nothing from Zepp since the night I watched Jacobs take him away. It was like he had died, and I was grieving his absence that was so absolute. I struggled to sleep. I struggled to adjust to my life without him in it. The hateful glares Hendrix shot at me every time he passed me in the hallway at school didn't help. I hadn't asked Zepp to do it, but it didn't make me feel any less guilty. It didn't hurt any less. And yesterday, when Wolf sent a text saying I was on Zepp's visitor list, I broke all over again.

I took a trembling breath as I looked up the razor wire fencing surrounding Hucksfield Penitentiary.

I stepped inside the cold, gray building. A sense of depression lingered heavily in the air. It should have been me locked away like an animal.

The guard took all of my possessions, and I signed a form before he escorted me into the bleak waiting room. By the time I got through, my nerves were so fraught, my hands trembled. A line of tables filled the room, each with a prisoner in an orange jumpsuit. Zepp sat at the table against the far wall, his gaze fixed out the barred window. A lump formed in my throat when I noticed the bruises on his face, and the fresh split in his bottom lip. Taking a breath, I crossed the room and pulled out the chair across from him.

I was standing on one side of a very messy, blurred line, and he was on the other. I didn't know what to say to him.

"Why?" It was the one question that had been burning through my mind since his arrest. Why did he push me away? Why did he take the fall? Why didn't he call me for the last month? Why, why, why…

He turned away from the window, his eyes unreadable. "Because I love you." He placed his cuffed hands on the table, clasping them together. "And you deserve better than Dayton, Roe."

"You didn't do it, though! This is bullshit, and you know it." My voice hitched.

"Doesn't matter if I did or not. I'm here." He nodded toward me. "You're there. And that's the way it belongs."

And I knew he believed that. "No, it's not. You're not…" This. He wasn't a guy who belonged behind bars. He wasn't a good guy, but he was to me.

"Jacobs wanted my ass in here. He offered me a deal. You for me." He tapped his hands on the table, the cuffs clinking. "You and me both know I was gonna end up right here at some point. I didn't have plans. You did. You wanted to get out of Dayton, and had you been booked, you wouldn't have."

I had stolen my fair share of cars. I had earned a spot in here just as much as him. But he wasn't supposed to care. He let me go days before the arrest. Never called. Never texted. I didn't understand. "It wasn't your problem."

His feet tapped the floor under the table, knuckles washing white as he stared at his hands. "You'll always be my problem, Roe."

I choked back a sob because I hated this thing that lingered between us. I wanted to run to him, but he constantly held me at arm's length. I placed my elbows on the table, raking both hands through my hair as I stared at the steel surface.

"Then why did you push me away?" I whispered.

Seconds ticked by before he sighed. "You know how you said your mom hadn't always been like she is now, Monroe? Neither had mine." He slumped back in his chair, eyes set on me. "Mine was in nursing school. She had plans. Then she met my piece of shit father and became another Dayton statistic. Knocked up. On drugs. Dreams down the toilet."

And that was shit, but it wasn't us. "You're not him. And I'm not her. You'd never let me not go to college, but Dixon isn't the only college. And you didn't have to break my heart to do it."

"So, you'd go to college. Then what? Marry me?" He shook his head. "I'm not gonna have shit to offer you."

"You don't have to offer me anything. And you don't get to tell me what I do or don't want."

"It wasn't about what you wanted, Roe. It's what I wanted for you."

I could feel the chasm between us, and I knew the clock was ticking. In just minutes, I'd have to walk out of here, and I didn't know when I'd see him again. Something in me broke. "All I wanted was your love, Zepp!"

"And that's something you'll always have." The resignation in his words killed me because it wasn't what I wanted to hear. It was "I love you, but I'm letting you go," and I didn't want to let him go. Ever.

"So, what now?" I said. "You expect me to go to Florida and just forget about you?"

"I expect you to get the fuck out of Dayton."

"Move on...meet someone else…"

His jaw ticced. His gaze dropped to the table.

The crack in my heart tore wide. I had to get out of here. I hated that he saw himself as so worthless because, to me, he was my entire world.

"I don't..." His brows pinched together, nostrils flaring. "I don't want you to come back."

"You—"

"I'm taking you off the visitor's list." He might as well have thrust his hand into my chest and pulled out my heart because this felt so final, and I knew it was.

I fought tears as I pushed to my feet, knowing there was nothing I could say.

He looked out the window, his jaw slowly ticcing. "I'll never love anybody the way I love you, Roe. That I promise."

"I love you." And then I walked away, my heart shattering into little pieces that I left on the floor of that visiting room. Zeppelin Hunt would always be the boy who had shown me what love was, even when he couldn't love himself.