Linc’s phone lit up. He glanced down and muttered something. Then he glanced at me. “I gotta take this or she’ll keep calling.”

She who? I wondered, but I just shrugged.

“Hey,” he said. “No, uh, I’m having to take a friend to see her father. He’s in the hospital.” I stiffened. I didn’t refer to Pastor Williams as my father. “Yeah, I will. No, I’ll be in a hospital. Let me call you.” He sighed, pulled over into a shopping center parking lot, and parked behind a Starbucks. Then glanced at me. He mouthed, Be right back, then climbed out of the car.

I watched as he argued, or at least it looked like he was arguing, with whoever was on the phone. I laid my head back and closed my eyes. I was tired. My body was tired. This day had started out perfect. But I didn’t end perfect. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to think I could keep it.

Krit had been my perfect. He had marked me. Yet again. I had been molded by life. He had shown me what it felt like to belong. I would cherish that memory, and I would love him for the rest of my life. No matter what happened or where we both ended up, my heart would belong to him.

But I had been an unwanted child. I knew what that felt like. How lonely and painful it was. No kid deserved to feel that way. Every child deserved parents. If I stayed with Krit, there was a chance he wouldn’t allow himself to accept his baby. And that baby deserved to have its daddy. And if I stayed with him, I would be in the way. When he went to Britt to help with the baby, I would be alone. They would be bonding over their child, and I would be something hindering them.

The car door opened, and Linc climbed back in. “Sorry about that,” he said, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Want me to swing by the drive-thru and get us a coffee? I think I could use one.”

“Yeah, I could use one too,” I replied as I stared out the window.

* * *

Sometime after three in the morning Linc and I gave up trying to stay awake, and he pulled off onto an exit. We both got our own rooms, and I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

KRIT

The apartment was destroyed. I had even smashed the television. I’d slung the end table at it in my fit of rage. I stood among the broken pieces of furniture and felt completely numb. The blood on my knuckles was crusted over. I hadn’t taken the time to wash it off after I’d put my fist through the wall three different times.

I had called her all night. Every time it went straight to her voicemail. Her phone was off. I grabbed my phone to try again, and like the other fifty times I had called, it went to voicemail. I had gone after them, but his car was gone. I didn’t know if they went east or west on the interstate. I had tried going east, but after an hour and nothing, I had gone the other way. Stopping, I had called her phone and voicemail. Afraid she was back home, that he hadn’t taken her out of town, I headed back to the apartment and knocked on her door and waited for over fifteen minutes. She never came. She wasn’t there.

“Shiiiiit,” Preston drawled as he walked into the apartment. Turning, I glanced over at Rock, Trisha, and Preston. Green must have called them. He had come home an hour ago and just stared at me.

All I’d been able to say was “She left me.”

Green hadn’t been able to say anything back.

“Oh, Krit,” Trisha said as she walked over pieces of broken table and pulled me into her arms. I went, but I couldn’t lift my arms to cling to her. Trisha was the only one who would know. The last time I had experienced a rage like this was when I’d been told my uncle Mick was dead. He had been the only adult I trusted. The one who was there when I needed him. I had torn our trailer to shreds, smashing everything I touched. My damage hadn’t been this severe though. I was stronger now.

“Dude, this is f**ked up. Manda left me once and I was shattered, man, but this . . . Hell, I never smashed up my place.” Preston said.

“Shut up,” Rock ordered him.

“She just needs some time to think. She’ll come back, baby. You’re going to hurt yourself. You can’t react this way. I’ll go with you to get your meds. You can get on them again. I was okay with you not taking them because you’ve been so good for years. Nothing ever got to you so you never lost it. But I think now, until . . . I think you need to take the medication again.” Trisha’s worried tone normally made me feel guilty. Right now I was ripped open.

“I’ve been so mad before, I threatened to rip shit apart. But hell . . . I never actually started ripping shit apart,” Preston said, amazement still in his voice.

“Dude, shut up,” Rock said, shoving him this time before walking over to hand Trisha a small bag. It was from the local pharmacy.

I shook my head and stepped out of my sister’s arms. I wasn’t going back on the meds they gave me for my ADHD, and I wasn’t going to take the damn antidepressants I knew were in that bag. I hated taking those meds. I hated how they made me feel. They changed me. I’d controlled myself for years. I could get control again. I just had to get Blythe back.

“If you don’t take them, then you’re going back to the house with us. Green loves you, but you’re scaring him. He doesn’t know what to do with you. And you’ve got to clean this mess up. Rock brought Preston in case we had to hold you down, but they are also here to help fix this mess. Focus on cleaning up, and we’re gonna help you replace stuff. Especially Green’s stuff. She will come back. She just needs time, baby. She just needs time.”

“I can’t lose her.”

Trisha glanced over at Rock and frowned. Then she squeezed my arm. “I know. She loves you. Anyone could see that. She’ll be back.”

“Have you talked to Britt today?” Rock asked.

I tensed.

“Rock,” Trisha warned.

“He has to be a man, Trish. He’s got a girl pregnant and he has to deal with that, too.”

“If that baby is really mine, then I’ll take care of what’s mine. But Britt hasn’t even brought me proof from the doctor yet. I’m waiting on that.”

Rock nodded. “Fair enough. Don’t trust her anyway. And she’ll be shit for a mom. Kids gonna need you if she is pregnant.”

I hadn’t even thought of that. I hadn’t thought of anything but Blythe.

“Let’s get this place cleaned up. We can talk about it all later,” Trisha said, walking over to Rock.

I reached down and picked up some of the Sheetrock I had busted up. I had done a number on the place. I’d checked out mentally and lost it.

“Maybe you should take a picture of this place and send it to the preacher’s son. Bet he runs like hell,” Preston said as he tossed a piece of wood over into a pile.

“He better run fast” was all I said.

* * *

Green showed back up, and with the four of us working, it took five hours to clean the place out. Rock called a buddy of his that did Sheetrock to patch the place, and then he took Green to go replace the flat-screen and other necessary pieces of furniture we needed. I gave them my credit card and told them to put everything on there. I wasn’t letting Trisha and Rock pay for my shit.

It was evening by the time we were done and Green was getting ready to head to Live Bay. I couldn’t go. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to go again. He wasn’t complaining. He said they had it under control. I let him deal with it.

Taking my seat at the window, I watched for her to come home. I called her phone again, and her recorded voice came on. I listened to her until the phone beeped, then I hung up. I’d left enough messages. So I sent her a text message instead.

PLEASE was all I could type. Then I hit send.

Chapter Twenty-Two

BLYTHE

The hospital wasn’t somewhere I was familiar with. I had only been inside one once, and it had been this one. I’d had pneumonia when I was eight. I remembered more about going to the hospital than the actual visit. Pastor Williams had taken me. I had been sick for days, but Mrs. Williams was saying that I was being lazy and didn’t want to do my chores.

Then one night I had heard them yelling at each other. It was the first and last time I had ever heard them fight, at least like that. Pastor Williams had come into my room, picked me up, and taken me to the hospital. They had admitted me, and then he had left. A week later he had picked me up, and I had gone home. No one had visited me that week. No one had brought me balloons like the other kids down the hall had been given. It had been just me and the television.

As I walked back through the doors of Token Memorial Hospital, that memory replayed in my head. Pastor Williams had seemed fierce that night. Like he was protecting me. But then he’d left me alone again. Maybe this was a pattern in my life.

“This way,” Linc said. He had already asked where we needed to go when he’d called earlier. Pastor Williams was still in the ICU, and he needed surgery. He had a blood clot. Surgery was risky, but if he didn’t have it, then there was a good chance he’d just have another heart attack due to blockage.

We took the elevator to the third floor and made a right into a large waiting room. Linc pointed to a chair. “Go have a seat. I’ll let them know we are here.”

I did as I was told. I had rather he handle it anyway. I didn’t want to talk to people.

“Blythe.” I glanced up to see several pairs of eyes on me. Members of the congregation. Of course. They would be here. No one ever really spoke to me. I was almost surprised they knew my name. I turned to look at Sylvia Bench, the church secretary for as long as I could remember. She had been the one to call my name.

“Hello,” I said, unsure what else they wanted from me. I was back in this world. The one where people ignored me or whispered about me. The one where I was an outcast and had evil inside me. Evil I had grown up wishing so hard I could get out of me.

“We wondered if you’d come,” Sylvia said, studying me through her round glasses that perched on the tip of her pointy nose. She wasn’t a nice person. I knew that much.

I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say to that, either. I wasn’t sure if I would have come if I hadn’t just had my new world snatched from underneath me, but I was here because I was running.

“Blythe.” Linc was at my elbow, guiding me away from the chair I had been told to go to and out of the waiting room. What were we doing now? “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

If he was about to tell me he had to leave, I wasn’t sure how I would handle that. I couldn’t stay here alone with these people. But now that I was here, could I just leave?

Linc pulled me around a corner and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear him. Then he turned to meet my curious gaze. He was acting weird. I wasn’t sure I could take another man acting weird on me and then unloading something on me I couldn’t handle. But then there wasn’t anything Linc could tell me that would shatter me the way Krit had. I was sure Linc couldn’t even hurt me.

“There’s a problem. I . . .” He rubbed his hand over his face and muttered a curse. I had never heard him curse before. “I shouldn’t be the one who has to tell you this. I don’t want to be the one. But . . . I think you would want to know. I mean . . . you have to know.” He made a frustrated noise in his throat, then he asked. “What’s your blood type?”

Was he kidding me? He was acting like this because he wanted to know my blood type? “B negative. It’s rare. Why?” I only knew this because we did blood typing in high school. My teacher had made a big deal out of my blood type. Most people had been O positive.

“Wow, yeah, okay. At any time in your life did you wonder why Pastor Williams and his wife were raising you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Because my mom was a member of the congregation, and they didn’t want me to get thrown into the system and end up in foster care or something. Why are you asking me such random questions?”