“You hit my dad,” I croaked out, feeling numb, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and steered me toward his car. “I did,” he bit out, tightening his arm around my shoulders. “A lot,” I whispered, knotting my fingers in the side of his hoodie. “He deserved it.” “He did.” “Are you okay?” “Are you?” “I don’t know.” “Me either.”
