To the Stars

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To the Stars Page 23

by Molly McAdams


  Decision. There was that word again. Yes, so many decisions had been made today. So many different ones I’d never expected to make.

  When I didn’t respond, Grey swore and slowly pulled off to the side of the road. After putting her car in park, she drummed her fingers quickly on the steering wheel for a few seconds and said, “I won’t help you cheat on your husband.”

  My head whipped to the side to look at her, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the movement. “No, ah . . .” I sucked in another breath and waited until I was composed before I spoke again. “What exactly did Knox tell you?”

  Grey gave me a quick once-over; her face was pinched in confusion like she was trying to figure out why I’d just hissed in pain. “I was the first one he told when he ran into you. He told me that he thought you weren’t happy with your husband. That you cried when you saw him . . . that kind of stuff. When you told me who you were, I was excited because I want you for Knox, but not this way.”

  I was surprised he hadn’t told her more, but thankful at the same time. I didn’t need that. “There is so much that you don’t know, so much I can’t tell you. But I promise you that if it were as simple as me not being happy with my husband, I would not be in Thatch trying to find Knox. I told you, this is an emergency. One I can’t call the police for.”

  Something in my tone must have convinced her, or at least prompted her to continue driving. But she didn’t speak to me the rest of the way there, and she kept sending me worried glances—and I knew it wasn’t me she was worried for.

  We pulled up to the house and parked behind a few cars in the driveway. When I started opening the door to get out, Grey’s soft voice stopped me. “I love Knox. He’s like a brother. He means a lot to me, just like Deacon does. If all you want from him is to have fun, or to have someone besides your husband to make you feel loved, then I want you to know that he deserves more than that.” She nodded in the direction of the house. “My husband is in there. If you have an emergency and need help, he can help you and we’ll make sure Knox never knows. But you being here like this, Knox is going to think he can have you. If he can’t . . . I can’t let you go in there.”

  I opened the car door the rest of the way, and my voice broke when I said, “Then I guess I’m going in there.”

  A smile briefly covered her face before she could stop it, and then she followed me out of the car and up to the front door. She didn’t knock; she just walked in. I heard a bunch of guys talking and laughing before they noticed Grey and started yelling her name.

  “The love of my life!” Deacon called out.

  Graham threw something at him and shouted back, “Dude, shut up! She’s married; she doesn’t want you!”

  A guy walked quickly over to Grey and gave me a suspicious look as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Why are you already off work, and who is this?”

  The two other guys noticed me at the same time, but they couldn’t see me with my hood up, and I wasn’t taking it off for them.

  Without answering them, Grey asked, “Where’s Knox?”

  “Here,” he called out from somewhere in the house. His voice sounded distracted, and I turned to watch him walk down the hall, only to come to a halt when he saw me. Knox’s head jerked back as his eyes narrowed, and then his entire body sagged. “Low?”

  I took a tentative step toward him, still worried about what everyone else was about to do, but Knox quickly closed the distance and pulled me into his arms. One of his hands went up to the back of my head to cradle me close, and a sharp cry burst from my chest. Knox released me as quickly as possible but didn’t move back. In a move just as fast, but still gentle, he unzipped the hoodie and pushed the hood off my head.

  His eyes widened and he bent slightly at his waist, like the air had been knocked from his body, but rage quickly covered his face and he began shaking. “I’m going to kill—”

  “You can’t,” I whispered urgently. My reminder sounded like a mix of warning and begging.

  “Harlow,” he seethed as his hand ran over the dried blood on my face. “Nothing’s stopping me this time.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” a deep voice raged behind us.

  Chapter 18

  Harlow

  Present Day—Thatch

  I TURNED TO see Deacon and Graham standing there watching us. Graham looked shocked to see me there . . . but the blood and bruises could’ve had something to do with that. Deacon’s lip was curled, but it quickly fell along with the rest of his face when he whispered, “Holy shit.”

  Grey was crying and mumbling something about hormones to the guy I assumed was her husband, and Knox was pulling me away from all of them.

  “Knox!” One of the guys called out after I’d turned to allow him to pull me down the hall, but he didn’t stop moving until we were in a bathroom.

  “What happened?” he asked, and his tone was a deadly calm . . . detached even. But not detached in the same way Collin got. Knox was trying to help me, and he couldn’t help me when all he wanted to do was kill my husband.

  “He tried to kill Hadley¸” I murmured as he pulled the hoodie and my wet shirt off my body. “He gave her a lethal dose of PCP, she wrecked her car into—” My words broke off when my legs finally decided they’d had enough and gave out beneath me, but Knox caught me in his arms and held me despite the pained whimper that bubbled up my throat.

  He walked me back a few steps, put the toilet lid down, and sat me on it. His hands brushed over my face and down my arms, making sure I was able to support my head and upper body before he released me and started searching through the cabinets under the sink. “We’ll get into Hadley later, but I meant you. What did he do to you?”

  “I have to tell you about Hadley so you’ll know why I made him snap.”

  His dark eyebrows slammed down. “You didn’t cause this,” he sneered. Knox took another deep breath to continue but shut his mouth instead, and nodded for me to go on.

  “Knox,” Graham said as he opened the door, and I scrambled to pull the hoodie over my mostly bare chest. Deacon was right behind him.

  “Get out,” Knox growled. His eyes never left the cabinet in front of him as he searched through it.

  They didn’t move. Their eyes just stayed on me—their expressions going back and forth between worried and shocked. It was so unlike anything I’d ever seen from them.

  Knox was suddenly in front of me again. He pushed the hair away from my face and ground his jaw when I flinched as he gently pressed all over my head. “Is there anywhere on your head you’re not hurt?”

  “It’s just three spots.” I showed him where, and tried to take steadying breaths when he began cleaning the cut on my forehead.

  “Tell me what happened.” When my eyes drifted to the side, he said, “Don’t look at them. Keep your eyes on me, Low, and tell me what happened.”

  “He gave Hadley PCP, and when we got home from the hospital I started questioning him. He admitted to it, kind of—in so many words.”

  “What did he say?” Graham asked. His tone and expression showed he was invested in the short part of the story he’d already heard, but I didn’t trust it. After everything over the years, I couldn’t trust he would suddenly care about what happened to me.

  I stared at him, waiting for it to happen—for the yelling to start—but Knox’s annoyed huff was the only sound that came from any of the guys as he continued working on me. “I’m sorry. My bathroom is too small for this, otherwise I would’ve taken you in there. Keep talking.”

  I blinked slowly and looked back at him. “Um, could you hear what he said this afternoon before we left? What he couldn’t stop thinking—”

  “You were with her this afternoon?” Deacon’s voice boomed in the small bathroom, making me jump.

  This was it, what I’d been waiting for.

  Graham smacked Deacon’s head, and Deacon stumbled over his quick words, “Shit, wait no. Sorry! Habit . . . it’s a habit. What happened
this afternoon?”

  “What is happening?” I whispered as I looked at the two men watching me.

  “I don’t know,” Knox said; his voice showed he was just as confused. “Whatever you two are up to, now is obviously not the fucking time. Get out,” he demanded, and waited until they reluctantly left. When Knox looked back at me he said, “The eggs. Throwing up.”

  I took a few deep breaths, and nodded as I pushed Deacon and Graham’s weirdness from my mind. I quickly went over the conversation with Collin in my head, and then thought about what followed. Now that I didn’t have the two men taking my focus and confusing me, my body was trembling again. I just didn’t know if it was from talking about Hadley, remembering what she looked like on that bed, or feeling so weak.

  “What happened with the eggs . . . that’s why he did that to Hadley,” I continued. “He still thinks the salt was poison, so he tried to kill her. So after he admitted to it—saying he made sure she had salt, I accidentally said that I hated him.” I was quick to continue. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize I said it out loud! I would’ve never said that to him, and he snapped. I didn’t mean to!” I promised, and only when Knox dropped what he’d been using to clean my head and brought his face close to mine, did I realize my voice had gotten louder and louder until I’d been yelling as I tried to make him believe me.

  He tried to quiet me and waited until my eyes were locked on his before whispering, “You’re okay. You’re here with me. I don’t care what you said to him, Low; nothing would make you deserve this. Calm down, breathe, and tell me the rest.” When he was sure I was calm, he released me and went back to work.

  My voice was soft when I continued, afraid of repeating what had happened too loudly. “He wasn’t my monster, Knox. He was different. I knew . . . I knew the second I realized I’d said it out loud that he was going to kill me. He came after me and I ran. He slammed my head into the wall”—Knox’s hand paused from where it was still cleaning the wound on my forehead, and a muscle in his jaw ticked—“he threw me down, and he sat on me and started choking me. He dragged me into the guest bathroom and dropped me into the tub right after he turned on the water. He held me down as it filled, and it was like he was dead the entire time he watched what he was doing. When the water started covering my face, he told me how he would explain my suicide to people. Then he released me and I tried to get out, but he slammed my head onto the side of the tub. I woke up later choking on water.”

  “Oh my God,” one of the guys whispered in horror, and I turned my head quickly to find them both standing in the doorway again.

  “Jesus Christ,” Deacon said. “We need to call the cops. We need to do something. Holy shit! Where’s my phone?”

  “No!” I yelled, and tried to stand. Knox didn’t stop me, but he also didn’t move, so I wasn’t able to make it far. I reached out even though I could not have stopped Deacon from dialing from where I was. “No! Please don’t! He has dirty cops working for him; please don’t! If you do, he’ll get me, and then he will finish killing me. He’ll kill my sister, the rest of my family. Please don’t!” I was yelling again by the time I finished, and both guys were staring at me like they didn’t know what to do with me. “He’s going to come after me because I left, and I’m already worried that he might know about Knox—and Collin will kill him if he does—but if you call the cops . . . then there’s no chance of us ever getting away.”

  “This needs to be stop—” Graham began, but Knox cut him off.

  “Guys,” he said with a sharp tone. “Leave, and please trust me when I say Harlow knows what she’s talking about. Calling the cops is the last thing we want to do.” Knox didn’t wait to see if his friends left, which, after more worried looks, they did; he just went back to finishing up the cut on my forehead. “Grey brought you here,” he said as he placed butterfly bandages on the cut.

  It hadn’t been a question, but I quickly explained all about finding Max, and then Grey. Despite everything, Knox smiled a few times, and even laughed at Max’s attempts to parent me.

  “That could’ve been dangerous, Low. You didn’t know him, what kind of person he was . . .”

  “It was all I had. I called you, but you didn’t answer.”

  Knox’s brow furrowed as he thought, and then relaxed. “My phone is in the living room. I wouldn’t go back in there once Graham came home. I only came out because I heard the guys yelling for Grey, and knew she’d just left for work only an hour before. I thought maybe she was going into labor early, or something.”

  I nodded, and even though his fingers were moving gently as he began removing the rest of my clothes—as if he was afraid to touch me—my breathing deepened as I remembered his touches from earlier.

  “I want to kill him,” Knox admitted; his eyes were on his hands as he helped me out of my wet jeans.

  That had been the first time he’d said want.

  “You can’t,” I said again.

  “I know,” he whispered, then finally looked into my eyes. “I vowed I would never waste another moment with you, and I still have—too many to count. I’ve let you get hurt too many times since then, and I le—” His voice broke, and he stopped talking for a few seconds. After he cleared his throat, he continued: “I let tonight happen.”

  “No.”

  “If I’d stayed—”

  “Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “You didn’t know . . . I didn’t know!”

  His dark eyes dropped again. “You did,” he argued gently.

  “Not tonight. I didn’t think it would happen tonight.”

  “Regardless . . . if I killed him, I would lose too many moments with you, maybe the rest of them. And I’m not willing to do that.” He kept his gaze away from me as silence filled the bathroom, then finally asked, “Why isn’t this scaring you?”

  “What?”

  “Our conversation.”

  “Why would—”

  “Because I mean every word,” Knox said darkly.

  Meaning if he could do it and not go to prison, he would kill Collin. When the weight of his words settled over me, all I could do was nod. Finally, I admitted, “I’m more scared of losing you than your darkest thoughts. Besides, they aren’t far off from my own. I’ve spent years thinking of what I would do to him if I knew I could get away with it—granted, I never thought of . . . I don’t think I could . . .” I drifted off, unable to say the words myself.

  “I know,” Knox murmured, and placed his hand over my cheek as he had so many times. The touch was comforting and relaxed my tense and aching body. “I need to rinse your hair. You have a lot of blood in it, and more on your neck and shoulders. I can either have you bend over the sink, or stand in the shower, but I think the sink would be hard with how much you’re already hurting.”

  I glanced over to it. “Probably.”

  He moved my face back so I was watching him. “He tried to drown you, so I’m not letting you get in that shower alone in case anything happens—you break down, freak out . . . anything. All I’m going to do is rinse the blood off, okay?”

  “Okay,” I answered as he turned on the water, but with my confusion, it sounded like a question. It wasn’t until he reached behind me to unclasp my bra, then gently gripped the top of my underwear to push them down, that I realized why he was trying to get me to understand all that would be happening in the shower.

  I watched as he removed his clothes, and had to resist the urge to touch him. I knew I couldn’t handle it right now anyway. He was holding me up, and my knees were still shaking despite it. But he was there in front of me, and there was nothing stopping us. Once again, what we’d done today kept replaying in my mind. From the look in his eyes, I wasn’t the only one who was feeling the phantom touches and kisses, but he was keeping himself in control.

  After testing the water, he helped me into the shower and kept me far enough away that I wasn’t directly under the spray. He used his hands to bring the water where he needed it, and had me tilt my hea
d back so he could try to keep the cut dry that he’d been working on earlier while getting the blood out of the front of my hair.

  When he was sure all the blood was off me, he helped me back out and turned off the water before following. He grabbed a large towel off the rack, and with a gentleness a guy like Knox shouldn’t be able to have, he dried my hair—making sure to be even more careful around the spots where I’d hit my head. Once he was done, he opened up the towel and stepped close to me to wrap it around us both. He kept it closed tightly at my back, and just held me in his arms for long minutes, like he was afraid to let me go.

  “Come on,” he eventually whispered against my bare shoulder, then pulled away, but maneuvered out of the towel so I could cover back up in it.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as he wrapped another towel low on his hips and then bent to pick up all of our clothes.

  He passed his lips softly across mine as he walked over to open the door. “I’m taking you to bed. To sleep,” he clarified when he noticed the way my eyes widened. “You need to rest.”

  Knox led me down the hall and into a bedroom, and I stood there awkwardly as I watched him move around the room. I didn’t want to think about how many girls he’d had in here, but it was impossible not to. I was beginning to understand the glare directed at my bed that afternoon.

  “Put these on; I’ll be right back.”

  I glanced down to the clothes he’d placed in my hand, and couldn’t stop the smile. I’d never worn his clothes, but I remembered begging him for shirts of his I could wear to bed when I was in high school. He’d promised me all of his shirts once I was eighteen. I’d never understood why he’d made me wait, but there I was, standing in his room, twenty-two years old and holding a shirt and pair of boxers in my hands.

  Because I’d finally decided to get away from my husband . . .

 

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