Page 32 of Always Love You More

“When I saw the headlights …” I wrap my arms around myself. “I thought … I didn’t …”

“Did something happen tonight?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“I don’t understand.” He blows out a breath. “You gotta start making this make sense.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“It’s okay,” he pushes out. “But you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I just couldn’t …” My voice cracks.

“You just couldn’t what?”

“Take it. I couldn’t take it anymore. Being in that house. Being alone. I’m always fucking alone.” I grip my hands, trying to make them stop shaking. “Johnny? Do you have a cigarette?”

He tears his pained eyes from me and grabs a pack from the center console, handing me one. I place it between my lips, and he lights it.

I inhale, letting it calm me. “Sometimes, I just feel so trapped, you know?”

He nods.

“Dad’s been … well, you know how he is.” I exhale a cloud of smoke. “I can’t go anywhere. Do anything. He’s always keeping tabs on me. Carson is, too.”

Johnny’s expression darkens at the mention of Carson. They’ve never gotten along.

“What can I do?” he asks. “How can I make it better?”

“You’re always gone,” I say before quickly adding, “And I’m grateful for all you do for us, really. It’s just—”

“I get it,” he interrupts. Leaning into his seat, he tilts his head back, thinking. “Maybe I could bring you to the garage with me during the day.”

“I thought—”

“Would that be better?” he cuts in again, silencing my protest. “If you could come with me?”

I exhale a cloud of smoke. “Yeah, but I don’t want to make trouble for you.”

“You won’t.”

“What about Dad?”

“What about him?”

“You think he’ll let me go?”

He’s quiet for a minute. “I’ll say you’re helping out, working the front desk. He won’t care what you do if you’re getting paid.”

My eyes widen. “You think they’ll actually give me a job?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll ask. Even if they don’t, it’s not like he’s gonna show up there.”

“But then I won’t be making any money.”

We both know if I say I’m bringing money home, our father will want to see it. Will likelytakeit.

“I’ll give you some if I have to.” He levels me with a serious look. “We’ll sort out the details. The only thing that matters is that you don’t feel”—I watch his eyes flit to the street—“like this anymore. That you don’t put yourself in a situation like this again.”