Page 215 of What We Break
Instead, I grab my keys off the counter.
Nope. Not doing this.
I’m done being the girl who cries in her apartment while the men make the decisions. If he has something to say, he can say it to my face.
I head downstairs, skipping the coat because I’m too angry to look for it. I push through the front door and the rain hits me instantly—cold, wet, miserable. Perfect.
I cross the street. I don't run. I just walk straight up to the driver's side.
He sees me coming. He has to. But he doesn't move. He just sits there behind the glass.
I yank the door open.
"What do you want, Blake?" I ask. "Haven't you done enough?—"
The words die in my throat.
Holy crap.
He looks wrecked. That's the only word for it. His lip is split wide open, swollen to twice its normal size. There's a bruise blooming along his jawline that's going to be purple by morning. But it's his hands that stop me. Resting on the steering wheel, the knuckles are raw. Skinned.
Reid did this.
My brain tries to process that image. Reid, who apologizes to spiders before he puts them outside. Reid beat his best friend's face in.
"He hit you," I say. It comes out flat. Nurse voice. Assessment mode.
"Yeah." Blake doesn't look at me. He's staring at the dashboard like it owes him answers. "He got a few good ones in."
"Good." And honestly? I mean it. "You deserved it."
"I know."
He finally turns his head. Under the streetlight, he looks exhausted. Not just tired. The kind of exhausted that lives in someone's bones, like he's aged decades in the last hour.
"I came to tell you," he says, his voice like he swallowed gravel, "that Reid kicked me out."
I blink. Rain is running down the back of my neck, finding its way under my collar. "What?"
"He told me to get out. Tonight. Said he never wants to see me again."
I lean back a little. I knew Reid was mad. I didn't know he was that mad. Kicking Blake out is like cutting off his own arm. I mean, that's the whole reason for this breakup in the first place.
"So what?" I cross my arms, shivering. "You came here for a place to crash? Because I have a couch, but I'm pretty sure I'd rather set it on fire."
"No," Blake says. "I came to tell you that the problem is gone. You can go back to him."
I stare at him. "Excuse me?"
"You left because of me. Because I wouldn't leave. Well, I'm gone now. I'm shipping out tomorrow night. Afghanistan. I won't be coming back."
"You think..." I shake my head, trying to wrap my brain around the logic. "You think you can just swap? You leave, I go back? That’s not how this works, Blake. You can't un-break something just by leaving the room."
"I can try."
I want to punch him, too. He's infuriating.
"Why?" The question explodes out of me. "Why did you do this? Why did you hate me so much? I tried so hard. I brought you coffee. I tried to learn about your stupid wood. I did everything I could to be your friend."
