Trust

Part 7

You’re quiet in the car on the way home. Luke sits tensely, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, and spinning his lip ring nervously.

You’re about to close your eyes and feign sleep, when Luke slams on the breaks.

You jerk forward against your seatbelt and reach out, bracing yourself against the dashboard. You start to glare at Luke, but then look out the windshield and really focus. The traffic in front of you stretches on for miles.

“Damn,” you whisper.

“Damn is right,” Luke grumbles next to you. His voice is rougher than it has been lately. It sounds more like you thought he would sound, before you met him.

He sounds mean, angry, cruel.

You can tell he’s pissed.

“It’s going to take hours to get you home now,” he growls. You shrink down in your seat as much as you can. You’re afraid he’s going to get violent. You’ve never seen Luke violent but you can imagine, from the rumors alone that it would be very, very bad if he did.

He won’t hurt you, will you calm down? He’s never tried to hurt you before, why would he now?

 

Easy for you to say, you tell that stupid little voice. You aren’t the one who’s going to be on the receiving end if he decides he’s pissed at me.

“I-it’s a nice afternoon,” you whisper. “If you want to just head home, or go meet up with your friends, I can get out and walk. I really don’t mind.”

You sneak a look at him out of the corner of your eye, too afraid to face him head on. Instead of calming him down like you expected, it seems like you have pissed him off more.

His face is clouded over. His eyes are bright and sharp. His jaw is clenched so tight you’re afraid he’s going to break it.

It’s kind of hot.

You shake your head. That is a totally inappropriate thought to be having right now. You need to focus on the angry part of hot when angry.

 

“Why,” Luke practically spits at you. “Are you always trying to get away from me?”

You frown, biting your lip. “I’m not—“

“You ARE!”

You jump in your seat, and your breath hitches. Yelling is bad. Yelling is very bad.

“I just, I thought, I mean—“

“I said I would drive you home and I will. I don’t care if we’re stuck here all fucking night. I. Am. Driving. You. Home.”

You don’t protest again. You stare out the window, trying to pretend you aren’t there. If you aren’t there, you aren’t being yelled at. If you aren’t there, you aren’t afraid. If you aren’t there, you aren’t about to cry. If you aren’t there, you don’t have to worry about flashing back.

You hear Luke muttering under his breath, and you try not to flinch, thinking he’s cursing you out or something.

“Don’t know why you didn’t just fucking ask Calum then, if you obviously—“

For a second, you’re shocked out of your fear.

A second is long enough for the question to slip past your stunned lips before you can stop it.

“Wait, are you jealous?”