Going 78 Miles Per Hour | ✓

12 | A Nail In The Tire

I know I'm classified as an asshole myself—and I bear that title with pride—but I'm different from her father. I hate the thought of being boxed in as the same category as him, but I'm swearing to myself that I'm different. I have to be.

Because I would never hurt a girl.

Because I would never laugh at her pain.

Because I would never make her feel stupid for having emotions.

"God," I groan, dropping both my hands by my side. I release a heavy sigh. "What the fuck is going on with me today?"

I need to stop thinking about her. I need to get my shit together and do the things that benefit me. That helps me. Dahlia is nowhere near my agenda.

But, fuck, do I want to know if she's doing okay.

She has to have a plan for everything. She's smart enough to, right? If she's ignoring me, after spilling the story about her father, it has to mean there's something going on. The only problem is if it's good or bad.

I wish I could talk to someone about her.

Maybe that could drive her out of my mind.

I ponder on the thought for a second, thinking of a person I could come to in a time of need. I don't exactly have a long list of aliases and associates.

Then, it dawns on me.

I'm out of the door, and I'm descending down the stairs, making a turn at the foyer and reaching the living room in a matter of seconds. The entire family is here, saved for Claudia, and suddenly, I feel like I'm intruding into something I shouldn't be a part of.

Presley is resting against one end of the couch, stretching his legs over cushions and sacrificing pillows to the floor. Sebastian and Nini are taking the other end, right in front of the television screen. Nico is playing with some Legos in the corner of the room, close enough to catch a couple glimpses of the movie and Ariah is coloring at the coffee table. Everyone in their specific order.

"Harlow!" Ariah immediately greets, her brown eyes meeting mine through the clear of her glasses. She throws her arms in the air, "you joined us!"

Everyone follows Ariah's gaze, and soon enough, the entire family has shifted away from the tv screen and stares at me. Nini graces a smile at my appearance, Sebastian mimics her. Presley's looking slightly impressed over in his corner.

But I'm not here for them, or a goddamn movie night.

"I want to talk to Presley," I said, shifting awkwardly in the foyer. The entire family changes their sights and moves them toward Presley, sitting at the end of the couch. He, himself, also looks confused.

"Um," Presley drops his legs off the cushions, raising himself in a steady stand. "Alright."

Without another word, I head in the direction of the kitchen, far enough from the family to prevent possibly eavesdropping on our conversation. I don't want them to think I'm talking about Dahlia when all I'm doing is being concerned.

Maybe a little too concerned.

Presley follows shortly after, and stops right before me. He's dressed in a beige turtleneck and cream slacks. He stuffs both hands into his pockets, giving me a once-over before cocking a brow at me.

"Something wrong?" Presley asks, trying to foreign indifference but I can tell a hint of concern behind his words. He can't do it like me. "Cause you're looking more pissed off than usual."

"You know the girl that I brought home, right?"

"Dahlia." He nods, watching my expression. "What about her?"