“Don’t fucking look at me like that—you shouldn’t even be here in the first place,” I remind him. “If it wasn’t for me, she would have been raped and God knows what else—” My hands find the collar of his leather jacket, and I push him up against the side of his truck. “No matter how many times you try, no matter how many times you ‘save’ her, she will never want you. Don’t forget that.”
THIS IS NOT. ABOUT. YOU.
