Free Coming Home by Lydia Michaels

Mr. Gerhard appeared to return her social security card and once more obliterated her appetite.
    As she walked the three blocks home, she decided she’d eat and then find the DMV so she could change over her address on her ID. Although she didn’t have a driver’s license, Nick, from work, told her that was where state IDs came from.
    “Scout!”
    The sound of her name being shouted so urgently had her jumping. She turned and sucked in a breath.
Parker.
    Her teeth locked down as he jogged across the street after her. She turned and quickly walked toward home. He must have been waiting for her outside of Clemons. He’d helped her apply for her job and was right to assume she wouldn’t give it up just because her life derailed—derailed partly because of him.
    “Scout, wait!”
    “Go away, Parker. I have nothing to say to you.”
    Her feet slapped against the pavement as she sped up. She didn’t want to even look at him.
    “I need to talk to you.”
    “Tough!” She turned the corner and heard him closing on her. Could she just have one day without assholes from her past stalking her every step?
    “Please wait.”
    Saying nothing, she marched on, her lips pursed tightly over her clenched teeth and her eyes narrowed. Parker used to be her best friend, but proved to be nothing but an underhanded schmuck.
    “Scout, please—”
    Hissing in frustration, she turned on him.
“What could you possibly want?”
    She gasped. Jesus Christ. His face was a hodgepodge of black and blue bruises. There was a gash over his left eye and his jaw was discolored with a smattering of ugly green marks. “What the hell happened to you?”
    “Lucian’s what happened to me. Scout, don’t you see? He isn’t safe.”
    Her lips tightened. She wasn’t falling into this pissing match. “Well, he isn’t in my life anymore, so you can find another cause.” Pivoting, she walked off.
    He grabbed her arm, and that was mistake number one. She turned on him and a beast emerged from within her.
“Don’t touch me!”
    He flinched and immediately let go of her arm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
    She laughed bitterly. “Sorry? You’re sorry? Oh, well, doesn’t that just fix everything. How’s this, Parker?
Fuck you!
”
    “I never meant to hurt you.”
    She’d had just about enough of men and their crap. “Hurt me? You didn’t hurt me. I’m not the one standing here covered in bruises.”
    “You know what I mean.”
    She stepped into his space and shoved a finger in his face. “Let me clear something up for you. It takes more than some self-serving asshole to hurt me. If I was hurt, I’d have to care
and I don’t!
I don’t care about you. I don’t care about our past. I don’t care about anything you may think I do. Your arrogance is what got you into this mess, so I’m going to do you a favor and tell you your intuition sucks. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about the person I am or the things that hold meaning to me. You. Are.
Nothing
. So go play your games with someone who gives a shit.”
    His shoulders drooped, his expression dejected. “I did it to protect you.”
    Emotion bit at her throat, and tears burned her eyes.
    “Protect me?” she barked. “Since when do I need someone to protect me? I was the one looking out for your dumb ass all those years! You may know how to read and sell stocks, but you don’t know shit about surviving. You know and I know this ambitious act you’ve been putting on is all bullshit. I’m not buying it, and I regret the day I ever trusted anything out of your mouth. Now, leave me alone.”
    The blood rushed from his battered face. “You don’t mean that.”
    “I mean every word,” she growled.
    “Scout . . . I love you.”
    Rage choked her, but she shoved it down. Shutting her eyes, she growled. His proclamation did nothing for his case. It merely irritated her a hundred times more. “Love, Parker? Really? Let me tell you something about love. People write