Chapter 43 Your Funeral

• I felt a rush of inexplicable anger every time a girl looked at him as we made our way down the stairs. When we got out to the grass area before the parking lot, I felt like a pent-up rage machine.
• Some chick stared openly at him, and the rage grew hotter.
• I accidentally took a step toward her, my fists clenching at my sides as if I knew how to throw a punch (which I didn’t), and Ford picked me up around the waist and carried me toward the car like I was a much smaller, much lighter woman. He opened the door and set me on the back seat before sliding inside with me. He did not fit, but he didn’t seem too bothered by that fact.