Chapter 160: Chapter 160 - Raven’s Point
Zac stood so fast his phone slipped from his hand.
"What happened?"
Roxie could not answer.
His eyes moved from her helmet, to Ethan, to the motorcycle. His face hardened before he looked properly at her.
"Why the hell was she with you?"
Ethan got off the motorcycle slowly. "Wrong question."
Zac stepped off the porch. "I wasn’t asking you."
"Yeah, I noticed." Ethan moved in front of Roxie, but kept his hands down. "Look at her."
Zac’s jaw clenched. "Move."
Ethan grabbed the front of Zac’s hoodie and pulled him closer, not hard enough to start a fight, but just enough to stop him from looking anywhere else.
"Look at her properly."
Zac froze.
Then his eyes went to Roxie’s face.
The anger drained so fast it almost looked painful.
Her cheek was swollen. Red. The mark had started to spread under her eye. Her lips were pressed tight, but they were trembling anyway.
Zac’s voice dropped. "Roxie."
She looked away.
He moved toward her, careful now. "Who did that?"
Roxie shook her head.
"Was it Claire?"
Her face changed.
That was enough.
Zac’s hands curled at his sides. "I’m going to—"
"No." Roxie pushed him once in the chest. Weak, but sharp. "No, you’re not."
He stopped.
"I’m sorry," he said immediately. "I’m sorry. I’m here."
She hated that those words worked.
For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Ethan stepped back. "I’ll go."
Roxie looked at him. "Thank you."
He nodded once, then looked at Zac. "Don’t make this about you."
Zac did not answer.
Ethan got on the motorcycle and left.
The porch light buzzed above them.
Zac stood close, but he did not touch her this time.
Roxie stared at the dark house behind him. The windows looked empty. Claire’s room was empty. Everything inside felt like it belonged to the fight she had just walked away from.
"I can’t go in there," she said.
Zac’s face softened. "Okay."
Her voice shook. "Can you take me somewhere?"
He nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "Anywhere."
Roxie swallowed.
"Raven’s Point."
Zac reached for her hand slowly.
This time, she let him take it.
Raven’s Point was quiet when Zac pulled in.
The truck rolled to a stop near the overlook, headlights washing over the wooden guardrail and the dark stretch of trees beyond it. Below them, the town sat in small yellow dots of light, scattered between the roads and rooftops like someone had spilled a handful of stars on the ground.
Zac killed the engine.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Somewhere during the drive, Zac had handed her his hoodie and cap without making a big deal out of it. Now Roxie sat in the passenger seat with his hoodie pulled tight around her body and his cap low on her head.
Her cheek still burned where Claire had hit her, even though the sharp sting had faded into a deep ache. The rest of her felt empty.
Zac got out first. The driver’s door shut quietly. A second later, her door opened, and cold air rushed in. He stood there with one hand on the frame, waiting.
Roxie looked at him. "Are you always this careful after someone gets slapped by their mother?"
His jaw tightened.
The joke died between them.
"Sorry," she muttered.
Zac shook his head once. "Come on."
He helped her out of the truck, then grabbed the blanket from behind the seat. Roxie followed him to the truck bed. He climbed up first and held out his hand.
She stared at it for a second.
Then she took it.
Zac pulled her up carefully. The blanket was already spread over the ridged metal by the time she sat down. He sat beside her, close enough for his shoulder to touch hers, but he left space between their bodies.
Roxie looked up.
The sky above Raven’s Point was wide and dark, full of stars.
"Wow," she said softly.
Zac glanced at her. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Kind of annoying."
"What is?"
"That the sky looks this pretty after a night like this."
His expression changed.
Roxie hated that he understood her so quickly.
She pulled the cap off her head and held it out to him. "Here."
Zac looked at it. "Keep it."
"Zac."
"Keep it."
"I already have your hoodie."
"Keep that too."
She gave him a look. "You planning to dress me forever?"
"If you keep looking cold, yeah. And I like seeing you in my clothes."
Roxie looked down at the cap in her hands.
The brim was warm from her head. It smelled faintly like him. Clean soap, rain, and that sharp outdoor smell he always seemed to carry after practice.
At least someone cares enough for her. Her throat closed up and she bit her lip to stop the tears.
The tears were annoying. They came too easily tonight, like Claire had cracked something open and left it leaking.
His hand came up slowly and settled against the side of her face, careful around the mark on her cheek.
The touch was barely there.
Still, Roxie closed her eyes.
Zac’s thumb moved once near her jaw. "Does it hurt?"
Roxie kept her eyes closed. "A little."
His thumb stopped. "I’m sorry."
She smiled a little. "You didn’t hit me."
"I know."
"Then stop apologizing."
"I don’t know what else to do."
That made her open her eyes.
Zac was looking at her like he wanted to touch her and was scared of touching the wrong place. His hand stayed near her jaw, careful around the red mark, his body tense beside hers like he was holding himself back from every bad idea.
Roxie looked at him for a long second.
Then she leaned into his hand.
Zac’s face changed.
Something in her chest pulled tight.
She hated how badly she needed this. She hated that Claire had stripped her open so completely that one gentle hand on her face could make her want to cry again.
Zac’s fingers curved lightly against her jaw. "Roxie."
Her name sounded different up here.
Quiet.
Safe.
"I uhhh..." Roxie cleared her throat. "We had a fight."
Zac waited.
"Before she left," Roxie said, "Claire told me she was going to sell the house."
Zac’s face changed. "What?"
"She said she’d kick me out when I turned eighteen." Roxie looked down at the cap in her lap and twisted the brim between her fingers. "Then I found the papers. My grandma left the house to me."
"The house is yours?"
Roxie nodded.
For some reason, that almost made her laugh.
"It should’ve felt good," she said. "Like, yay, I won. I have a house. Claire can’t sell it. I can’t get kicked out."
Zac stayed quiet.
"But it didn’t feel like winning." Roxie swallowed. "It felt like I took the last thing she thought she still had."
Zac’s hand moved toward hers, then stopped, like he was asking first without saying it.
Roxie let her fingers brush his.
He took her hand carefully.
"She got angry," Roxie said. "I got angry. I told her to get out."
Zac’s grip tightened once.
"And then she actually did." Roxie’s voice thinned. "She walked out, and I panicked. I ran after her. I begged her to stay."
Zac looked hurt now.
That was worse.
Roxie looked away at the town lights. "I held on to her sleeve like a little kid. I told her I was sorry. I told her I needed her."
Her throat closed for a second.
"She peeled my hands off and left anyway."
Zac dragged his free hand over his mouth.
"So all those times you told me she’d be late," he said quietly.
Roxie nodded. "She was gone."
"And you were alone."
She nodded again.
Zac dragged a hand over his face. "God, Roxie. Why didn’t you tell me?"
The frustration in his voice hit too fast.
Roxie flinched before she could stop herself.
Zac saw it.
His face changed at once.
Zac’s hand dropped from his face. He looked away for a second, breathing through whatever he wanted to say next. When he looked back at her, his voice was lower.
"Sorry," he said. "That came out wrong."
Roxie pressed her lips together.
"No, it’s fine."
"No, it isn’t." Zac turned toward her fully. "I’m mad. I’m really fucking mad. But I’m not mad at you."
Roxie looked down at the cap in her lap.
He reached for her hand, then stopped before touching her. "I just hate that you were alone with all of that."
Her throat tightened.
"I didn’t know how to tell you," she said.
Zac swallowed, hard. "Okay."
That one word sounded like effort.
Like he was choosing it.
Roxie looked at him.
His jaw was still tight. His eyes still looked angry. But he stayed there, sitting beside her, holding himself back from turning her pain into his reaction.
"She told me to stop calling her Mom," Roxie said.
Zac went still.
"So I called her Claire."
His jaw tightened.
Roxie looked down again. "She looked hurt."
Zac said nothing.
"She hit me, called me a bitch, told me to stop calling her Mom, and I still felt bad because she looked hurt." Roxie laughed once, but it came out broken. "What is wrong with me?"
"Nothing."
"Zac."
"Nothing," he said again, firmer this time. "She’s your mother. You wanted her to care. That doesn’t make you pathetic."
Roxie’s eyes burned.
"It makes you hurt," he said.
She looked away fast, but the tears came anyway.
Quiet this time.
No sobbing.
Just tears slipping down her face while Zac sat beside her in the truck bed under the cold sky.
He moved closer and opened his arms.
Roxie looked at him.
His voice softened. "Come here."
That was all it took.
She moved into him.
Zac wrapped the blanket around both of them and pulled her against his chest. His arms closed carefully at first, then tighter when she gripped the front of his hoodie and buried her face against him.
She cried there.
Into his chest.
Into the boy Claire had mocked her for needing.
Zac lowered his chin against the top of her head. His hand moved slowly over her back, steady and warm through the hoodie.
After a while, Roxie’s breathing evened out.
The tears stopped.
She stayed against him anyway.
"You waited at my house," she said.
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"A while."
Roxie lifted her head. "You thought I was ignoring you?"
"I thought you were mad at me again."
"Again?"
He gave her a tired look. "You get very quiet when you’re mad."
"I have depth."
"You have terrifying silence."
She almost smiled.
Then his eyes dropped to her cheek again, and the anger came back into his face.
Roxie touched his chin and made him look at her. "Stay with me."
"I am."
"No." She touched the center of his chest with two fingers. "Here. With me. Stop going to whatever angry place is in your head."
Zac breathed out slowly.
Then he nodded. "Okay."
Roxie looked at his mouth.
She did not mean to.
Zac saw.
His whole body went still.
Her cheek still pulsed. Her throat still felt raw. Claire’s words still sat inside her, ugly and hard to swallow.
But Zac was warm.
Zac was here.
Zac looked at her like the red mark on her face did not make her ugly. Like crying did not make her weak. Like every part Claire hated was still allowed to be held.
Roxie leaned closer.
Zac’s breath caught.
"Can I kiss you?" she asked.
His eyes softened. "You never have to ask me that."
"Yes, I do."
That made him pause.
Roxie held his gaze. "Tonight I do."
Zac nodded once. "Okay."
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