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“Well, this is asmallcar,” Yasha fires back. “And you’re talking about my best friend. I feel like I have a right to defend him.”
“Which goes to show how little you know. You don’t have any rights in this situation.”
“I’m your driver, not a robot. I can talk if I want to—”
“Now is not the time to hear any arguments in defense of Ivan. Now is the time to berate his character and sympathize with Cora. Later, if and when she’s ready, we can be reasonable.Maybeyou can have sixty uninterrupted seconds to defend your germy best friend. Until then, it’s venting time.”
I give Jorden my best version of a thankful smile. Though right now, it feels more like a grimace than anything else.
I press my temple against the car window and watch the city pass by in a blur. Staying with Ivan wasn’t an option. I couldn’t sleep in the room next to his and act like nothing was wrong. Passing him in the halls and making polite conversation would have killed me.
The problem is that leaving feels wrong, too.
It’s just all I could think to do.
My dad left. One day, he was there, padding around the house in a pair of worn-through slippers. The next, he was moving in with Crystal and raising a baby that I share half of my DNA with.
Why bother with the old, busted model when you can create your own upgrade?
Why stay when you can go?
My mom stayed physically close, but she left me in every way that counts. She stood by and let her new husband pimp me out to all of his friends’ sons to see if they were interested. Alexander McAllister never had a nice word to say about me unless he needed something—an alliance, an investor, a connection. Then I was the most precious tool he had at his disposal.
My mom never said a word. She stood silently by his side, letting him mold and shape me into whatever he needed at the time. Because she was too scared to leave. Letting your only daughter be used as a bargaining chip was better than being a poor, single mother, apparently.
The one thing it all taught me is that when the going gets tough, you run as fast as you can and never look back.
People abandon you.
You abandon people.
It’s the twisted, knotted-up circle of life.
In all likelihood, Ivan would have been done with me soon enough, anyway. Like everyone else, he would have left me behind, too. All I did is bump up the timeline.
Yet all I can see when I close my eyes is Ivan’s face as he lowered his head and nodded. The broken way he agreed to let me leave.
He didn’t even care enough to fight.
Jorden squeezes my knee again. I have no idea how long it has been or how far we’ve driven. I look over at her, blinking back into reality.
“Do you need anything?” she asks. “My apartment is a grocery deadzone right now. We can stop and Yasha can get you some ice cream.”
“I’m not your delivery boy,” he protests.
Jorden ignores him, her eyes on me. “Maybe chocolate? Vanilla? Both?”
“Thanks, but I’m okay,” I mumble. “I’m not very hungry.”
“I’ll put in a grocery delivery order just in case you change your mind later. You never know what the Bad Boy Blues will demand.”
“The Bad Boy Blues?” I ask.
She gives me a tight smile. “I coined the term. It’s when an asshole breaks your heart like the asshole he is and then you need to fill the hole left behind with snacks. Mine usually calls for a bottle of wine and a bag of salt and vinegar chips.”
Jorden is trying to distract me—or, at the very least, keep me from going catatonic—but I don’t have it in me to joke or pretend. I just want to cry ‘til I fall asleep and then sleep until I’m dead.
“Ivan is not a ‘bad boy,’” Yasha argues. “Ivan is a good guy. This whole thing is a major misunderstanding.”
