Branded (Ignite #2) - Page 57/73

“Did you get my cheeseburger?”

I try to laugh at her odd question, but it comes out as a sob and I quickly smack my hand over my mouth. She doesn’t need to be burdened with my problems. Because of me, she’s in a hospital right now and she could have died.

“Oh, honey, I’m fine,” she tells me softly. “Just a bump on the head and all my tests came back good. I’ll be able to go home tomorrow night.”

I’m glad she’s going to be okay, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s in this position right now because of me. Her car flew through a busy intersection because my father couldn’t get to me. She was covered in blood and Collin almost lost the love of his life, all because of me. I let my guard down and was fucking humming with happiness all morning while Finnley was fighting for her life.

“Listen, I know you heard about what happened to my car,” Finnley states, interrupting my thoughts. “I want you to promise me right now that you don’t blame yourself.”

I close my eyes and she continues, not even waiting for a reply.

“It’s not your fault, Phina. I know you and I know you’re beating yourself up over this and you need to stop. The things he did to you, the things he’s still doing…it’s not your fault, do you hear me? What happened today, it could have happened to Collin, to DJ or to you.”

“But it didn’t,” I whisper softly.

“BUT IT COULD HAVE,” she replies loudly. “That sperm donor is the one who is responsible for this shit, not you. He’s responsible for the shitty way you grew up, for making you think you don’t deserve to be happy and for all of the crap that’s been going on lately. HIM, not you. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

In theory, I know she’s right, but it’s impossible for my head and my heart to come to an agreement. I can still see the way DJ looked at my hips and I can still hear the hatred in his voice. My father might have started the ball rolling, but I took over his job for the next fifteen years and did a great job of fucking myself up.

“I love you, Fin,” I tell her softly.

“I love you too, you big dummy. Oh, I almost forgot, Dax called here looking for you. Said he tried to reach you on your cell, but you didn’t answer.”

I noticed a couple of missed calls from Dax on my phone before I called Finnley, but she was my first priority.

“He said he found something out and needs to talk to you as soon as possible,” Finnley finishes.

I end the call with a promise to come up and see her when I’m finished with Dax. Holding my cell phone in my lap, I stare at the ashtray on my nightstand with the lone cigarette in it, the one I lit earlier with every intention of pressing it into my skin. I try to go to that place in my mind, the one unconscious of everything around me but the need to feel pain. I close my eyes and concentrate, thinking about what it feels like to press the burning embers into my flesh. I imagine the smell of burning skin and the relief that washes through my body as it gets a new brand on my hip. My hands start to shake, not with the need to light up the cigarette, but with the fear that I don’t have the desire to do this to myself anymore. I found something better to become addicted to, but I told him to leave. It was for the best, I reassure myself. As much as it hurts, it needed to happen. The pain of pushing him away is far greater than any burn from a cigarette.

I lift my phone from my lap and hit the return call button next to DJ’s missed call. After a few rings, it goes to voicemail. I leave him a quick message letting him know that I’ll just come up to the station to talk to him. I don’t want to be in this house anymore. Everywhere I look, I see what happened between DJ and me and it makes me want to scream. I hope Dax finally has some good news for me. I’ll never be able to look DJ in the eyes again now that he’s seen my scars and knows what kind of a person I really am, but maybe I’ll finally be able to finish this shit with my father and get on with my life. As miserable as that life might be without DJ.

Tossing my phone on my bed, I push myself up and head downstairs to find Jackson. I feel bad about yelling at him earlier when he tried to stay in the house with me, but I was not in the right frame of mind to deal with him following me around. I need to apologize and see if he’ll be able to take me to Dax’s office.

As I get to the bottom of the stairs, I round the corner into the living room and stop short when I see DJ still here with his ass parked on my couch. I try not to let myself feel relief that he didn’t do as I asked and leave. I try not to drink in the sight of him and wish that I were a different person, worthy of the love I see shining in his eyes as he quickly jumps up from the couch when he sees me. I shut off every part of myself that he’s touched with his love and concentrate on my anger. It’s always been an easier emotion for me to handle, anyway, so why should this be any different?

“I thought I told you to leave?” I question him in a bored voice.

His happiness at seeing me quickly vanishes.

“I think you should know by now that I never do what I’m told, Fireball,” he says sarcastically.

Folding my arms across my chest to stop myself from racing across the room and wrapping them around him, I stare at him blankly before turning my gaze on Jackson, who stands awkwardly by the front door with a bottled water in his hand.

“Jackson, can you take me to see Dax?”

He nods, opening his mouth to agree when DJ glares at him before turning that look towards me. “The fuck he will! If you need to go anywhere, I’M taking you.”