To the Stars
Page 52
Collin had my phone. If he checked it, he would see it. But as far as I knew, he left my purse in his trunk. Then again, right now, after everything, I didn’t care. I’m sure in a couple of hours when I came to my senses I would, but at the moment I had so much excited adrenaline coursing through my veins, only one thing mattered.
Knox.
I could still feel his hands and lips on me—phantom touches from Tuesday that left me trembling. That left me needing more of him, more of us. But more than that, I needed his energy; I needed it to feel like I could make it another day with my new monster. So after typing out a message to him, I let my finger hover over the SEND button for only a second before tapping on the screen. Then I waited.
Chapter 15
Knox
Present Day—Richland
I WAS STOPPED at a light halfway home after my shift when my phone buzzed in the cup holder. I’d barely glanced at the screen, but did a double take and reached for the phone as fast as I could when I saw the last word in the text.
(509) 555-8643: I need to see the stars.
There were only two people who knew about stars and who could have Richland area codes: Harlow and Natalie. It was a statement that would fit the latter so much, but I doubted little Natalie had somehow conned a way into finding out my number, or could text at three years old. But I didn’t understand why Harlow would be texting me from a phone that wasn’t the one I’d bought her.
Tapping on the number, I hit CALL and waited while it rang and rang until it picked up and Harlow’s voice mail filled my ear.
“Shit,” I murmured, and ended the call.
I drummed my free hand on the steering wheel quickly as I thought about what this could mean, and what I should do. And when the light turned green, I flipped an illegal U, earning me a couple of horns, and sped off toward Harlow’s house.
Since she’d texted me, only to let an immediate call go unanswered, I was worried that her husband still had her phone. I was afraid he’d finally found the phone I’d given her—the only way he could know about the stars—but then it still didn’t make sense why he’d used her other phone to text me. Regardless, I was afraid to respond to her text or call her again, and I was afraid of what he could be doing to her.
I parked a couple of houses away and tried to walk up casually, but practically stalked up to the front door. The only comfort I took was that only her car was in the driveway. With a heavy exhale, I braced for anything and knocked on the door. Less than a minute later, the door was flung open, and Harlow’s eyes widened in surprise and relief.
“You’re here!”
“Where is he?” I demanded in a low tone, but the vibration in my body from nervous energy started lessening when tears started falling down her face. “Low,” I whispered, and reached out to touch her, but stopped and looked around.
“Come in, hurry,” she said, and stepped back. Once I was inside, she shut and locked the door and flung herself into my arms.
I pulled back enough that I could tilt her head up using my thumb under her jaw. “Babe, I need you to tell me where he is.”
Her eyes were still wet with tears, but they weren’t falling anymore. “He’s at work,” she said in a confused tone.
“Who texted me?”
“I . . . did.” She whispered the last word. She said my name, but I couldn’t respond to her. I couldn’t speak. I was shaking so hard I was afraid I was going to break her, and I knew I needed to let go of her before I hurt her—hurt her more than he already had.
“What . . . the fuck . . . is that?” I asked in a dark tone, my eyes stayed locked on her slim throat.
I didn’t have to be watching her face to know when she realized what I was seeing. Her body beneath my arm locked up and she muttered, “Oh God.”
“I will kill him. I’m going to kill him, I swear to God I will.”
“No, I-I-I . . .” she stuttered, then flew away from me. I only let her go because I was terrified of hurting her more.
Harlow took off across the entryway and living room, and down a hall with me not far behind her. I followed her into her bedroom and slowed to a walk when I got in there. I hated seeing the bed where he’d touched her, I hated being in their space. I wanted to take away every memory of him and replace it with memories of us. I looked up when Harlow came out of a closet with a light scarf in her hands—the same scarf she’d been wearing on Tuesday—and the sight made me growl.
I closed the distance between us and grabbed the filmy material to stop her as she began putting it on. “I’ve already seen it.”
“Please, let me put it on! You didn’t respond to me, I didn’t know you were going to show up. By the time you knocked on the door, I wasn’t thinking, I just rushed to answer it.”
My head jerked back. “Respond to you? Harlow, I called you as soon as you texted me; you didn’t answer. And why didn’t you use the phone I bought you?”
“I couldn’t!” she yelled. “He still has both of my phones, my car keys; he even took the house phones. He has everything! I texted you from my iPad. I’m still terrified that Collin will see it on my phone, but I needed to see you—please give it back!” she begged as she reached for the scarf.
“Why? So you can try to pretend he didn’t do this to you?” I seethed. “So you can hide that part of you away from me? You aren’t supposed to hide yourself from me, Harlow!”
“Well, what do you expect me to do when you’re looking at me like I’m broken?” she cried.
“I expect you to let me fix it!”
She flung an arm out in exasperation. “I’ve told you, you can’t. I can’t let you do anything!”
“You also can’t stop me from trying,” I said roughly. The words were a promise, not defiance, because I would fix this.
Taking the last step toward her, I grabbed her face in my hands as gently as possible and covered her mouth with mine. Her hands came up to cling to my shoulders, and soon she was giving me as much of her as I was giving. But it wasn’t enough, it never had been enough with Harlow, and I knew it never would be.
As gently as I could, I lifted her into my arms, and my face pinched in agony. She was so light—too light. I felt her spine in a way that wasn’t natural, and it killed me.
“Guest room,” she said between kisses. “All the way down the hall.”
Knox.
I could still feel his hands and lips on me—phantom touches from Tuesday that left me trembling. That left me needing more of him, more of us. But more than that, I needed his energy; I needed it to feel like I could make it another day with my new monster. So after typing out a message to him, I let my finger hover over the SEND button for only a second before tapping on the screen. Then I waited.
Chapter 15
Knox
Present Day—Richland
I WAS STOPPED at a light halfway home after my shift when my phone buzzed in the cup holder. I’d barely glanced at the screen, but did a double take and reached for the phone as fast as I could when I saw the last word in the text.
(509) 555-8643: I need to see the stars.
There were only two people who knew about stars and who could have Richland area codes: Harlow and Natalie. It was a statement that would fit the latter so much, but I doubted little Natalie had somehow conned a way into finding out my number, or could text at three years old. But I didn’t understand why Harlow would be texting me from a phone that wasn’t the one I’d bought her.
Tapping on the number, I hit CALL and waited while it rang and rang until it picked up and Harlow’s voice mail filled my ear.
“Shit,” I murmured, and ended the call.
I drummed my free hand on the steering wheel quickly as I thought about what this could mean, and what I should do. And when the light turned green, I flipped an illegal U, earning me a couple of horns, and sped off toward Harlow’s house.
Since she’d texted me, only to let an immediate call go unanswered, I was worried that her husband still had her phone. I was afraid he’d finally found the phone I’d given her—the only way he could know about the stars—but then it still didn’t make sense why he’d used her other phone to text me. Regardless, I was afraid to respond to her text or call her again, and I was afraid of what he could be doing to her.
I parked a couple of houses away and tried to walk up casually, but practically stalked up to the front door. The only comfort I took was that only her car was in the driveway. With a heavy exhale, I braced for anything and knocked on the door. Less than a minute later, the door was flung open, and Harlow’s eyes widened in surprise and relief.
“You’re here!”
“Where is he?” I demanded in a low tone, but the vibration in my body from nervous energy started lessening when tears started falling down her face. “Low,” I whispered, and reached out to touch her, but stopped and looked around.
“Come in, hurry,” she said, and stepped back. Once I was inside, she shut and locked the door and flung herself into my arms.
I pulled back enough that I could tilt her head up using my thumb under her jaw. “Babe, I need you to tell me where he is.”
Her eyes were still wet with tears, but they weren’t falling anymore. “He’s at work,” she said in a confused tone.
“Who texted me?”
“I . . . did.” She whispered the last word. She said my name, but I couldn’t respond to her. I couldn’t speak. I was shaking so hard I was afraid I was going to break her, and I knew I needed to let go of her before I hurt her—hurt her more than he already had.
“What . . . the fuck . . . is that?” I asked in a dark tone, my eyes stayed locked on her slim throat.
I didn’t have to be watching her face to know when she realized what I was seeing. Her body beneath my arm locked up and she muttered, “Oh God.”
“I will kill him. I’m going to kill him, I swear to God I will.”
“No, I-I-I . . .” she stuttered, then flew away from me. I only let her go because I was terrified of hurting her more.
Harlow took off across the entryway and living room, and down a hall with me not far behind her. I followed her into her bedroom and slowed to a walk when I got in there. I hated seeing the bed where he’d touched her, I hated being in their space. I wanted to take away every memory of him and replace it with memories of us. I looked up when Harlow came out of a closet with a light scarf in her hands—the same scarf she’d been wearing on Tuesday—and the sight made me growl.
I closed the distance between us and grabbed the filmy material to stop her as she began putting it on. “I’ve already seen it.”
“Please, let me put it on! You didn’t respond to me, I didn’t know you were going to show up. By the time you knocked on the door, I wasn’t thinking, I just rushed to answer it.”
My head jerked back. “Respond to you? Harlow, I called you as soon as you texted me; you didn’t answer. And why didn’t you use the phone I bought you?”
“I couldn’t!” she yelled. “He still has both of my phones, my car keys; he even took the house phones. He has everything! I texted you from my iPad. I’m still terrified that Collin will see it on my phone, but I needed to see you—please give it back!” she begged as she reached for the scarf.
“Why? So you can try to pretend he didn’t do this to you?” I seethed. “So you can hide that part of you away from me? You aren’t supposed to hide yourself from me, Harlow!”
“Well, what do you expect me to do when you’re looking at me like I’m broken?” she cried.
“I expect you to let me fix it!”
She flung an arm out in exasperation. “I’ve told you, you can’t. I can’t let you do anything!”
“You also can’t stop me from trying,” I said roughly. The words were a promise, not defiance, because I would fix this.
Taking the last step toward her, I grabbed her face in my hands as gently as possible and covered her mouth with mine. Her hands came up to cling to my shoulders, and soon she was giving me as much of her as I was giving. But it wasn’t enough, it never had been enough with Harlow, and I knew it never would be.
As gently as I could, I lifted her into my arms, and my face pinched in agony. She was so light—too light. I felt her spine in a way that wasn’t natural, and it killed me.
“Guest room,” she said between kisses. “All the way down the hall.”
