Page 20 of Beautiful Small Things

My voice pulls him out of his rage long enough to stop and look at me. I’ve never seen this side of him. He’s usually so easygoing and carefree.

“I just want to go,” I tell him, struggling to stand up on one leg.

Looking down at the bloody mess of the boy underneath him, he gets in one last punch and warning.

“Don’t you put your hands on any woman again, Fucker. If you come anywhere near James Parker, I will end you.”

Carter moans underneath him.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” he says, spitting blood as he speaks.

Marcus gets up and walks over to me, craziness still in his eyes, but the minute he touches me, he’s careful as if I could break in his arms. He gently picks me up as I wind my arms around his neck and carries me back to the car.

“You could get into trouble,” I say quietly.

“That little douche won’t say anything. And honestly, I don’t give a fuck if he does.”

Sometime during the short journey, the realization of what happened, what could have happened, hits me, and I begin to sob in his arms.

Instead of putting me in the car, Marcus sits on the ground with me still in his arms and holds me while I cry. He’s uncharacteristically quiet, making no jokes or quips, but rather just allowing me to feel everything, and cry against his strong chest.

When I finally calm down, Marcus drives me home. When we pull up outside the house he shifts the car into park and stares straight ahead. “Don’t ever put yourself in a position like that again,” he says without looking at me.

I nod, and even though he can’t see me, I know he is aware of my acknowledgment. “Please don’t tell anyone,” I ask.

“I won’t,” he says. Then he adds, “Get that knee checked out.”

“I had no idea. I’ve never heard that story.” I say shockingly.

“No one has,” Jem replies. “I asked him not to tell anyone and he didn’t, as long as I promised to be more careful. We both kept our promises.”

“That’s so crazy though. He might’ve saved you from something horrible.”

“Yes,” she says, sighing. “I always found your father intriguing. He was obviously good-looking and funny. Everyone found him attractive,” she muses. “I used to get nervous around him when I was barely old enough to have those types of feelings. Even when he did or said something stupid, which was often, it was still charming. That’s just who your dad is,” she says thoughtfully. “But I saw something different in that 23-year-old man that night. I saw a man who was much more than people gave him credit for.”

“How did he see you?” I ask.

“As a dumb, 16-year-old girl, no doubt,” she laughs. “My feelings changed that night, but it would be years before his did.”

“When did things change for you two?” I ask innocently.

“That shouldn’t be a difficult question to answer, but it is,” she replies.

“Why?”

“That is a story for another time,” she answers coolly.

I’ll accept it for now, but my curiosity about their relationship has been piqued, and I will be getting some answers soon.

Chapter nine

The Lifeline

Iris

Iris: Is your dad home?