Never Tear Us Apart (Never Tear Us Apart #1)

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Never Tear Us Apart (Never Tear Us Apart #1) Page 17

by Monica Murphy


  Why? Have you been sick?

  I haven’t called you or texted you.

  My fingers hover above the keyboard. Fuck it.

  I’m sorry.

  I wait for her reply and it feels like forever before I finally get it.

  For what?

  For ignoring you.

  Is that what you were doing?

  Running my hand through my hair, I contemplate what to say next. I shouldn’t say a damn thing. Leave it at the apology and quit this conversation for good. But . . . I can’t. It’s so damn hard. I want more. When it comes to Katie, I always want more. It’s killing me that I haven’t seen her. I want to see her. Talk to her. Make her smile, make her laugh.

  I finally answer her.

  Yeah, I was. And I’m sorry about that. It was a dick move.

  My phone rings, startling me, and . . . fuck.

  It’s her. Of course.

  The moment I answer she starts talking.

  “Why would you ignore me? I mean, maybe I shouldn’t ask this sort of question, but I have to know. Did you—did you find out something about me that you can’t deal with? Because if that’s the case, I can totally understand why you’re ignoring me. I’d ignore me if I could.” She laughs, like it’s so hilarious, but it’s not. It’s sad, her making jokes about what happened to her. How she’s afraid I discovered her truth and ignored her because of it.

  If she ever discovered mine, she’d freak the hell out.

  “Katie.” I say her name quietly, my voice low and measured. She immediately quiets. “What are you talking about?”

  She sighs, the sound so wistful it goes straight to my dick. Jesus. I need to get a grip. “I should’ve never called you.”

  I clutch the phone tighter, as if I’m holding on to her. “I’m glad you did.”

  “Did I do something wrong?” Her voice sounds so small, so far away. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

  “What sort of thing?”

  “This dating thing. This boy/girl thing. God, I sound like a child.” She sighs again, though this time in irritation. “There’s so much I should tell you.”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” I say, not ready to play true confessions. If she starts talking, that’ll make me feel like I should start talking, and I can’t tell her who I am.

  I just . . . I can’t.

  “Then I won’t tell you a thing. My entire life is a blank slate.” She laughs again, the sound raw, like it’s scraping her throat. “I’ve—I’ve been through a lot, Ethan. It’s not pretty.”

  I close my eyes and lean back in my chair, making it rock gently. I’d given up on pretending to work a while ago. Now that I have Katie actually on the phone talking to me, I won’t get shit done the rest of the day, I can guarantee it. And hearing her allude to her past just about rips me apart. “We all have.” It sounds lame, but it’s the truth.

  “I’ve been through more than the average person. I’m . . . broken. A mess.” Her voice cracks and she clears her throat. “I have serious hang-ups.”

  “What sort of hang-ups?”

  “I . . .” She blows out a harsh breath and laughs yet again, this time nervously. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but maybe it’s easier because I don’t have to see you, you know?”

  “I do know,” I say gently. “I get it, Katie.”

  She’s silent for a moment and I forget that no one calls her Katie anymore.

  Except me.

  “I have issues . . . sexually.” She squeaks out the last word. “And it all stems from a traumatic experience in my past that was really—it was really bad.”

  I blow out a harsh breath. This is an impossible conversation. The guilt that threatens to overtake me darkens all my edges, making me feel like a complete shit. “How bad?”

  “On a scale of one to ten? Twenty.”

  This is the last thing I want to hear. How my father—my fucking father—brutalized her to the point that he completely ruined her life. That she calls herself broken. That she has sexual issues. All because of him.

  I hate him. I need to right his wrongs. I need to make this girl feel wanted. Needed. Strong. Beautiful. Sexy.

  Because she is. She’s all of those things. She just doesn’t know it.

  “Yet here you are, brave enough to call and ask why I was ignoring you,” I point out. “That’s pretty ballsy, Katie.”

  More laughter, though it’s genuine this time. “I was feeling brave. I just left my appointment with my therapist and was a little irritable. A lot angry.”

  At me, I can only assume. I deserve her anger. She should remain angry with me forever, for how I’m tricking her. But maybe . . . maybe I can help her. “You want to take your anger out on me?”

  “I took it out on Dr. Harris instead.” She still sounds the tiniest bit irritated. “I’m glad you didn’t ignore my call, Ethan,” she murmurs, her soft voice curling through my veins, simmering under my skin like warm, fragrant smoke.

  The urge to see her pushes me to the point that I can’t even think straight. It’s like she consumes me, and I say the first thing that comes into my head.

  “Can I see you tonight?”

  She hesitates and for a moment, I think I’ve blown it. If she tells me no, I won’t ask again. I might want to help her find the confidence my father destroyed, but I know I’m walking a fine line here. I say one wrong thing, I give away one clue that reveals who I really am, and I’m done for.

  So it’s now or never. She says yes, I’m in. She says no, I walk.

  “I’d like that,” she finally says.

  I’m in.

  “You won’t give me her address.” I glared at the detective, the one who’d taken pity on me and showed me some kindness, unlike the rest of them. They all hated me with the exception of one Detective Ross Green. Somehow, he saw something no one else noticed.

  That I was telling the truth.

  “I can’t. Her parents won’t allow it. We have to respect their privacy.” Detective Green smiled gently at me, his eyes full of sympathy. “Why do you want it? It’s probably not a good idea, trying to contact her right now. Her parents won’t talk to anyone, not even the media.”

  “I have something for her. A—a gift.” My cheeks were warm and I figured I was blushing. I’d never bought a girl a gift before, so this was embarrassing. “I just want her to know that I’m thinking about her.”

  I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I worried. Was she dealing with everything okay? Did she feel safe? Was her reunion with her parents all she hoped it would be? Were the cops treating her all right? They wouldn’t stop asking me questions. They were mean as shit toward me most of the time. Treated me like I was the damn criminal, taking it out on me since my dad had gone on the run.

  “You’re thinking about her.” Green watched me. We were at a fast-food place not far from the station. I’d asked him to meet with me and my temporary foster mom had dropped me off a few minutes ago. She thought I was meeting with the detective because he wanted to ask more questions about the case. My dad was still on the run; it had only been a week since Katie and I showed up at the police station and the police were in almost constant contact with me.

  But really my sole purpose was to dig up information on Katie. I missed her like she was a part of me and now I’d lost a limb. I dreamed about her; her voice and face haunted my thoughts, and I didn’t know what that said about me.

  All I knew was that I was dying to see her. Talk to her. Make sure she was all right.

  “Yeah. I just—I need to know she’s okay,” I admitted, clearing my throat. I squirmed in my chair, uncomfortable with my confession. Did this make me a freak, that I worried about her? What we’d been through together—it wasn’t normal. No one else understood. Only Katie and I did.

  “She’s doing fine,” Green finally said as he rested his forearms on the edge of the table. He hadn’t ordered any food for himself, just a drink,
but I was devouring a double cheeseburger and a large fries, paid for by the detective, like he knew I was starving. My foster parents were typical beachside vegetarians. It sucked.

  Relief flooded me but I tried to act cool. “Good.” I shoved a wad of fries into my mouth.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this but her parents aren’t dealing with this very well, especially her dad.” Green paused, his gaze meeting mine. “He thinks you’re to blame.”

  I about choked on my fries at Green’s words. Grabbing my soda, I took a sip to get the food down before I could speak. “What are you talking about? How am I to blame?”

  “They think you had something to do with abducting Katie. At the amusement park,” Green explained. “That you lured her in.”

  I set my cup down on the table, frustration making me wish I could tear something apart. “You’ve all thought that about me at one point or another. You know it’s not true.”

  “I do. I’ve convinced my colleagues that isn’t the case, too. The Wattses? They still believe you’re involved. They’re not satisfied with us letting you go.”

  It was difficult to comprehend what Green was telling me. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. “They want someone to blame. They want your father behind bars. Because he’s still on the loose, you’re the next best thing. That’s my theory, at least.”

  I glanced out the window of the restaurant to watch a family of four as they exited their car and made their way to the front entrance. Smiling parents, two girls, one who looked close to my age, the other a little younger. They looked nice. Normal. Without a care in the world.

  I envied them with every fiber of my being.

  “Do you guys know where he’s at?” I asked, my voice low, my appetite gone. I didn’t like thinking about him, where he might be. What he might be doing. What if he was grabbing other little girls? What if he’d killed another one? They went through the storage shed and our house. There was enough evidence to arrest him for the kidnapping and rape of Katie and the murders of at least three other girls.

  That had shocked me, when Green revealed that information to me the second day that they called me back to the police station. I had no idea he’d done this to other girls. That he’d . . . killed them.

  My dad. The killer. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  “We’ve had some leads.” Green’s lips went thin. “You know I can’t reveal too much.”

  “Sure. Yeah.” I nodded, tapping my foot against the leg of the table. “He’s not gonna—he’s not gonna come after me, is he?”

  “We don’t think so, but we have surveillance on your foster family’s home, just in case.”

  My jaw dropped open. “Are you fucking serious?” I sat up straighter when he glared at me. “Sorry. I’m just . . . I had no idea.”

  “I’m serious. We take your safety seriously. There’s also surveillance on Katie, in case he decides to come after her again.”

  “He won’t do that,” I said with such confidence Green looked at me oddly. “He doesn’t want the trouble. That’s why he ran.”

  “We’ll find him, Will. I promise,” Green said with a slight nod.

  I said nothing. Promises were made to be broken. I tried my best to keep the promise I made to Katie and I think I somehow fucked that up. I got her to safety, got her out of that storage shed, but did I really help her?

  I don’t know.

  “If I give you my gift for Katie, will you make sure she receives it?” I pulled the envelope out of the back pocket of my jeans and slid it across the table.

  Green picked up the legal-sized envelope and shook it. “Can I ask what’s in there?”

  “Jewelry.” I shrugged, uncomfortable. “A bracelet. I liked the charm on it.”

  “A charm bracelet?”

  “Sort of. There’s a guardian angel on it. Someone to watch over her since I can’t be there to help her any longer,” I explained, dropping my head so I could study what was left of my burger. I didn’t want to see Green’s eyes, the expression on his face. I felt weird, telling him this. I didn’t want to share my feelings for Katie with this guy.

  I couldn’t even understand them myself.

  “That’s nice of you, Will. Real nice.” Green’s voice was gentle, and I glanced up to watch as he slipped the envelope in the inside pocket of his jacket. “I’ll make sure Katie gets this, okay? Even if I have to hand-deliver it myself.”

  Relief poured through me and I leaned against the back of my seat. “Okay. Yeah. That’s cool. Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I glance up to see Mrs. Anderson standing in her front yard, watching me as I walk down the steps from my porch and head for my car, which is parked in my driveway. A low fence divides our property and she’s standing on her side, an empty plastic watering can dangling from her fingers.

  “Hi,” I say as I make my way toward her. Both Mom and Brenna find my elderly neighbor completely annoying, what with how nosy she is, but I like it. Her nosiness means she cares, at least a little bit.

  “You look pretty.” She gives me a critical glance, taking in my outfit. I’m wearing a pair of black leggings with black ankle boots and an oversized midnight-blue sweater, my hair up in a bun. Nothing special, but I know this particular shade of blue looks good on me. “Doing something special tonight?”

  “Sort of.” I want to hop up and down like a little kid, but I keep myself contained. “I’m going on a date.”

  Mrs. Anderson’s eyebrows rise. “Oh really? I figured you didn’t do that sort of thing. Or you kept your love life a secret because maybe you were a lesbian or something.”

  I burst out laughing and shake my head. “I just haven’t really ever met anyone who interested me before.” That was the truth. And despite the fact that Ethan ignored me for the last few days, I appreciated his honesty when we talked earlier. I can only wonder if he appreciated mine. But my excitement overrides my nerves because I get to see him tonight and I can’t . . . I can’t wait.

  “I like that. You’re picky. I was picky. Took me a long time to find my Mr. Anderson. But when I met him, I knew.” She nods, her gaze turning wistful. I knew she lost her husband a few years ago to cancer and that she still missed him terribly.

  “You knew what?” I ask.

  “That he was the man for me. Once I set eyes on him, I saw no one else. He was it.” Her gaze narrows. “Where are you going? Why isn’t he coming here to pick you up like a proper gentleman?”

  “I don’t know him that well and I don’t want him to, uh, know where I live yet.” I wince, feeling silly. My privacy issues aren’t normal. I know this. “I’m a very private person.”

  “That’s good. Real good. There are too many creepy guys out there. You didn’t meet this boy on one of those dating websites, did you?”

  “No, nothing like that.” I smile. “I should get going. Have a good night, Mrs. Anderson.”

  “You too, Katherine! You should come over tomorrow morning for coffee and tell me all about your date!” She waves after me as I go to my car, and I turn around and smile.

  “I’ll try.” I slip inside my car and shut the door, smiling like an idiot as I start the ignition. If Brenna were here, she’d be going off about my nosy neighbor who’s only offering up coffee so she can dig info out of me.

  But I don’t mind. Who else am I going to talk about my date with? I can’t tell Mom and Brenna I’ve met someone. Not yet. It feels too new, too uncertain, and I want to keep him my secret. At least for a little while.

  I start the car and let the engine warm up as I pull my iPhone out of my purse and check the maps app. I put in the address of the movie theater where we are meeting and I hit start, ready to be guided since I’ve never been to this particular theater before. I push my sleeves up, the angel charm on my bracelet snagging on the fabric, and I carefully remove the thread that got caught on my angel.

  Rubbing my thumb over the bowing guardian ange
l whose giant wings are spread over her in protection, I think of the person who gave this bracelet to me. Wonder yet again if he’s all right, if he’s happy, wherever he is.

  I hope so.

  “Do you like popcorn?”

  I’m standing next to Ethan in line at the concession stand, staring up at the menu, trying my best not to stare at him. It’s so difficult because for whatever reason, he’s extra attractive tonight and he smells so good. The scent of popcorn fills the air but I barely notice it.

  All I can smell is the woodsy, clean scent of Ethan.

  “I love popcorn,” I say, turning to smile up at him. He’s watching me, a crooked smile curving his lips, and my breath hitches in my throat. “With extra butter,” I add weakly.

  “And M&Ms?”

  I frown. “M&Ms? What do you mean?”

  “I always like to buy a box of M&Ms and dump them into the popcorn,” he explains as we move forward in the line. It’s long. I blame the weather. It started raining as I drove over here and I figure everyone else wants to get out of the rain, too.

  “It’s good?”

  “The best,” he says with absolute authority. “That mixture of salty and sweet? Delicious.”

  “Then let’s try it,” I say, making his smile grow.

  “You won’t regret it.” His gaze locks with mine, those dark brown eyes soft and melting, and I sort of lose myself in them for a little while. I’m loving this, loving how normal it feels. A bona fide movie date where we talk about popcorn and candy like two regular people.

  I can’t remember the last time I felt regular.

  When we finally get to the front of the line, Ethan won’t let me pay for a thing. He wouldn’t let me buy my movie ticket, either, though I tried. In the end, I help carry the giant soda we’re going to share and he grabs the bucket of popcorn and box of candy. I make sure to stuff a pile of napkins in my tiny purse because I saw the girl behind the counter pump all that extra butter over the popcorn. Our fingers are going to be a greasy mess.

  I don’t mind, though. I’m not counting calories or worried about eating a bunch of junk food. Tonight, I’m having fun. I’m not Katherine Watts, kidnapped girl. I’m just Katie, watching a movie with Ethan.

 

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