And he’s also not my asshole kid, so I can’t yell at him, I can only yell at you. I’m scared,” he admitted finally. “I’m scared about what’s going to happen to you, and what might have happened to you tonight. And the only thing that scares me more is that you aren’t. At all. You think it was fine, and you know what? That’s why you need someone to tell you what to do. Because you aren’t old enough to understand the consequences of your damned actions.”
She didn’t say anything. And when they pulled into the driveway and up to the house, he realized it was because she’d fallen asleep. The scowl that usually marred her brow was absent now, her cheek still pressed against the glass.
His stomach twisted hard, his past and present colliding like freight trains, with all the mayhem you’d expect a crash like that to cause.
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