Page 137 of Always Love You More

I look down at myself. “It’s pouring out.”

He glances over at me. “Ever heard of an umbrella?”

If he wasn’t already enough of an asshole, the pain has only made him worse.

“What about Carson?”

“He’s at practice.”

“Can’t he go on the way home? What do you even need?”

“Watch that tone of yours,” he sneers. “If I tell you I need you to go to the store for me, then you go. Doesn’t matter what I need you to get.”

“Let me see if Jameson can drive me,” I say, just wanting to get away from him.

“Samantha,” he grinds out, and I snap my head up from where I was digging through my purse to look at him. “You can’t rely on people to drive you around forever.”

Ever since Johnny … I haven’t been able to get behind the wheel. For some reason, I’m fine being in a car, even on the back of Billy’s bike, as long as it’s not me who’s driving.

I should have my license by now, but I can’t do it. I’ll get it at some point, just not now.

“I know,” I say quietly before dialing Jameson’s number.

He picks up on the first ring. “You all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You don’t sound good,” he says. “You sound pissed.”

I ignore his comment, aware that my father is watching me. “Can you come back? I need to run to the store.”

“Why didn’t you ask when we were out?”

“I didn’t know we needed anything.”

“Mmhmm,” he hums. “Youneed something from the store?”

I sigh. “Jamie.”

“He was gonna make you walk, wasn’t he?” My silence is confirmation enough because he mutters, “Piece of shit.”

I glance over at my father, even though I know he can’t hear the other line.

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Thanks,” I respond, ending the call.

I run upstairs, quickly change out of my wet clothes, then search for an umbrella but come up empty.

Fuck.

Guess I’m getting soaked again.

My father shifts his eyes from the TV to me once I’m back in the room.

“What do you need?” I ask.

He rattles off a short list: beer, chips, milk, cigarettes.