Page 169 of Brutal

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To her.

“Some things don’t belong on a porch.”

She nods, turns, and walks off the porch.

I stand there for a second too long and then I follow her.

She’s not ready to level with me yet.

I guess I deserve that.

But I know now why she’s pushing so hard.

This is personal to her.

44

DELANEY

The gravel shifts under my boots as I step off the porch and keep walking.

If I stop, I’ll think, and if I think, I’ll break.

Samson follows me. “Delaney?—”

“Don’t.” The word comes out sharper than I mean it to. I keep walking down the path and toward the car.

Anywhere but that porch.

“You’re not walking away from this,” he says.

I almost laugh.

Almost.

Because I’ve been walking away from this my entire life. I just didn’t call it that.

I reach the car and stop. Not because I want to, but because I have to. Samson has the key fob, and I’m not going to keep walking when I have no idea where I’m going.

The words.

The look on that man’s face.

You’ve got his eyes.

I grip the top of the car door.

Something I can hold onto.

“Look at me,” Samson says.

“No.”

“Delaney—”

I turn then. “You don’t get to push this right now,” I say. “Not like that.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

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