Page 56 of Your Love

He exhales loudly and runs a large hand through his hair in exasperation. “No, I don’t. But I know who he is and what he did. You told me.”

Of course, I would’ve told him about Beau. I feel a rollercoaster of emotions suddenly—shock, embarrassment, and fear making up the majority. “I’d like you to take me home now,” I say.

“Can we spend a bit more time together?” he asks, his tone hopeful.

“No. I think I’m done for today.” I reply, trying to steady my voice and blinking away tears. I roll down the window to take in deep gulps of air. “Please take me home.” I spend the rest of the car ride staring out the window in silence. I avoid making eye contact. I don’t want Landry to see me cry.

I will be safe once I’m at home. I will be safe once I’m at home.

Chapter 25

“Let Me Go”

Landry - Age 19, 1989

It’s been a few days since the incident at Twist ’n’ Taste. I’ve never been so angry in my life. I didn’t see it coming. That piece of shit, Beau, basically confirmed my suspicions.

He caught me off guard at first. I didn’t know who he was when he swaggered over me with a smug look on his face, but as soon as he spoke, I became aware the interaction wasn’t going to go well.

Still, my intention was not to get physical until he took it too far. I can still hear the arrogance in his voice as he spoke. He chuckled and said, “Interesting the way things work out. I heard Paige got the worst of it. Imagine if Kerri had been in the passenger side like she was supposed to be?”

He all but admitted he had something to do with the accident. Everything in my world went red. I forgot about the people around me. I forgot Kerri was watching, and all I knew was I had to end the threat to her. So I told him and no explicit terms that if he doesn’t stay the fuck away from her, or if anyone so much as touches a hair on her head, I will end him. My resolve on that issue has not wavered, and even though I’ve had time to calm down and think rationally, I still feel the same way. I will end him.

I still wish Kerri hadn’t witnessed the interaction. She’s never had a good poker face, and I know it spooked her. She didn’t explicitly say that, but it’s clear from the way she’s been acting. She hasn’t wanted to talk to me or see me, saying she needs a break, but I can read between the lines.

Meanwhile, my mom keeps nagging me to come back home because Coach has been calling her for updates on my plans. But right now, everything in my life is uncertain. All I know is as long as Kerri is here, I want to be close to her.

I make another attempt at calling the house to ask if she’d like some company today. It’s Sunday, and her parents usually go to church. Maybe she’s going with them, but it’s worth trying.

I dial the familiar number and wait for the other end to pick up. The phone rings several times before a deep voice answers, “Hello?”

“Hi, Charlie. It’s Landry. I was wondering if Kerri wants some company today. Or to speak on the phone?”

“Let me go check with her, Landry.” My heart races with nerves as I wait. I can hear the wrestling and some conversation happening in the background before Kerri’s angelic voice cuts across the line.

“Hi, Landry.”

“Hi. Thanks for taking my call. Would it be possible for me to visit today?”

“Yes. Why don’t you come over around 11:00. There are a few things I’d like to talk to you about.”

My heart sinks as soon as I hear her tone. It’s not good news when a woman tells you she wants to talk.

I give myself plenty of time to go to the flower shop before I arrive at Kerri’s. I make sure to get her a bunch of vibrant orange and yellow flowers, hoping the colors might inspire her mood.

When I knock on the screen door, I’m surprised when Kerri answers. She’s healing fast and moving much better than she was a few days ago. The bandage on her head is smaller, and the bruising on her cheekbone is fading from red/purple to yellow. Her broken arm remains in a sling to stabilize her collarbone. Overall, she’s looking much better.

“You look like you’re feeling better,” I say as I enter the house.

Kerri carefully steps to the side to allow me to walk past. “Thank you. I’m getting a bit better every day.”

My fingers itch to touch her—to pull her into my arms as I normally would. Even when we were just friends, we were tactile with one another. The physical distance between us is a mirror of the emotional distance. It’s painful, but there’s nothing I can do, so instead, I shove the flowers toward her. “These are for you,” I say awkwardly.

Kerri grabs them with her good hand and brings them to her nose. “They’re gorgeous,” she says sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll put them in some water,” I suggest.

“I’ll show you where the vases are,” she says.