He jerked away, and a wall slammed between us. "You're right, but I said my piece. This was my night to say my piece. Corrigan had his. He's had a whole bunch of nights. It's only fair that I can fight too. Isn't it? You wanted the truth, Sheldon. You just got it."

Oh yeah.

I got the truth.

CHAPTER THIRTY

I didn't think. I grabbed my purse and headed out.

"Where are you going?"

"I can't be here."

"You wanted the truth, Sheldon," Bryce called after me. "You can't leave like this. You're supposed to go with someone. It's not safe."

"I don't care." As I got outside, I stopped. My car was trashed—Corrigan. I had no idea where his car was. Bryce's car was there, but I didn't want to leave him stranded. Then I took a deep breath and looked at my garage. My father's car was still parked inside. He'd never come for it. I never wanted to use it, but I couldn't stay there and I needed to get away from Bryce. He was too much for me right now. I needed to breathe. So I went inside the garage and got inside the black sports car. When the engine purred to life, I knew why my father loved it so much. It was sleek and elegant. It was pure power.

It served my purpose.

I wasn't sure where I intended to go, but I found myself driving to the hospital. Bryce was right—it was stupid for me to be out alone, but I didn't care. A part of me wanted the stalker to try something. It'd be done. I could fight, yell, hurt back, but a part of me didn't feel that the stalker was going to try something. Or maybe I didn't even have one? The vandalism had been explained so that left the person who tried to break in and my messed with my car's brakes. They could've been done by two separate people…

It didn't matter that night. I walked through the waiting lounge and found it abandoned. The lights were low, giving the halls a vacant and eerie feeling. As I went past the nurses' desk, one lifted tired eyes to me from her paperwork, but then went back to it. She didn't care that I was there.

I was grateful.

When I walked to Corrigan's room, he looked like he'd been sleeping. A fan was propped in a corner, set on low to sound a soft buzz in the room. His windows had been opened and the street could be heard. Traffic whizzed by. Then I heard his head turn, and he asked in the dark, "Are you back with him?"

"You think that I would come in the middle of the night to tell you that I was with him?" I threw my purse in the chair.

"Yes. You'd do it because you'd feel guilty. You'd have to tell me right away. So are you?"

"No."

Relief flared in his eyes, but it was gone instantly. As I sat on the edge of his bed, he looked at me and the wall slammed down again. It was lined with cement bricks.

I murmured, "He told me everything. He told me his feelings. He told me that he talked to you and that you explained the kiss. He…"

"He?" There was a bite to his voice.

"He wants me to choose—"

"I'm not asking you to choose." His interruption was swift. "I told you before. Our friendship works."

Swallowing hard, I leaned forward. "I know. Bryce wants me to choose."

"Then he's a douche, and I'd say that to his face. You can't choose. You're not okay to choose right now."

"Thanks." I'm not okay? What did that mean?

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Why don't you tell me how crazy I am?" My voice was hard.

"You're crazy. You know it. You've been with Bryce for how long? Your relationship with him was never good. It might've been semi-healthy for a few months, tops, but that was it. You two were never good together. Admit that. You wanted him to hook up with other girls half the time."

"What does that have to do with me choosing? From the sounds of it, there is no choice. He wants me. You don't. No choice!" I grimaced when I heard my voice start to rise.

"You need to be away from him for six months before you can make any choice. And don't get like that. No choice, my ass."

I glared at him. If anyone else, anyone, talked to me like that, they might not have woken up the next morning, but Corrigan could. Some days I asked myself why he had that power.

When I didn't respond, he flashed his teeth at me. He taunted me. "See? You know I'm right."

"I am not the complete imbecile that you think I am."

He snorted. "That's your only response?"

He saw it was and relaxed in bed. Lifting the remote, he started to flip through the channels. I sat back beside him and wondered where the exact moment things had started to change. If it had been before Marcus, because of Marcus, or sometime after Marcus? Then I looked over at Corrigan. The television's light illuminated his eyes. There was a seriousness there that'd always been inside of him, but he never let it out. It was on the surface now, and I knew it was because of me. He'd been the joker, the player, the never-take-me-seriously guy except when he was angry. Then he was the Corrigan that no one wanted to mess with. That Corrigan meant business, and he was ruthless in doing what he had to do.

"What?" he asked without looking at me. He flipped to another channel and looked bored.

I knew he wasn't.

I squeezed his free hand. "Everything will be okay. I'll make sure that everything's okay."

He squeezed back. "But it can't be, Sheldon. You know that."

"You don't want me to choose. We'll all be okay then—"

"You can't choose. Not yet. Bryce knows that." He looked at me.

I gulped from the intensity in his eyes.

He added, "He should've said his piece, but he should've walked away. I'm just thankful that you couldn't care less if he's famous or not. Any other girl and…never mind. Speaking of stars, what are you going to do about Denton? He's not going away either."

I rolled my eyes. "I like Denton, but come on."

"Denton respects you."

"He didn't before?"

"No. I think he always has, but he was more worried about his sister then. His sister ain't here anymore."

"I know, but he's not family. You are."

His eyes held mine. "So's Bryce."

I gulped and looked away. "I drove here without Bryce."