“Oh, Knox,” Grey said in a musical lilt as she walked into my room. Her eyes studied me as she leaned against a wall and absentmindedly played with her large stomach. “I’m actually on my way to work. Graham wanted to spend time with Jagger, and I wanted to see you and Deacon before I had to go in. But why do I have a feeling that Graham wanted Jagger here for a reason?”
I lifted an eyebrow and tried to mask the fear and adrenaline pumping through my body. “What do you mean?”
“Usually Jagger just sees you guys if I’m here. But Graham was adamant that Jagger be here, and tonight you’re not working, and there was a lot of tension between you and my brother out there. So it’s not really hard for us to figure out that Graham wanted a buffer. I want to know why one was even needed.”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrugged, and her eyes narrowed, but I didn’t offer any other explanation. With how Graham and Deacon had reacted, and how pissed-off Grey had been when she’d found out Harlow was married, I knew that telling her any portion of the truth right now would be pointless.
“Fine,” Grey eventually said. “I have to go.” She pushed from the wall and walked to the door, but before she left she looked at me and said, “If you ever decide you need to tell someone what’s happening, I will listen. I may not agree with you, but I’ll listen.”
I didn’t respond, just watched until she left, then I resumed my compact pacing. Graham could bring in a buffer all he wanted; I didn’t plan on going out there anyway.
Harlow
Present Day—Richland
I CHOKED ON water, and my heavy eyelids slowly blinked open. Each felt like it weighed fifty pounds, and lifting them like one of the hardest things I’d ever done. But I was still choking, and I knew I had to keep them open.
I was in the tub, mostly floating. My top half was twisted so only one of my eyes was out of the water, and I gasped when I remembered Collin—causing me to inhale the water that was tinted red with my blood, making me choke harder. I struggled to sit upright as I forced water out of my lungs, and looked around the guest bathroom for any signs of my monster, but he wasn’t in there with me. I heard the sound of running water, but it still took me a few moments to realize that it was coming from the tub faucet, and that water was covering the bathroom floor.
I hurried to shut it off then sat still as stone as I waited for sounds other than my wheezing breaths. He would have heard me, and he would come for me soon if he was still here.
I’m not sure how long I waited, but I had two coughing fits that I wasn’t able to stop in that time. I was worried with each one that Collin would come rushing in to finish what he’d started. I tried to stand but couldn’t force the lower half of my body to cooperate yet, and ended up pulling myself out of the tub instead.
My sharp gasp filled the bathroom when I landed hard on the wet floor, and long minutes passed before I felt like I was able to make myself move again. But by that time, my legs were working again. They were shaky, but working. Although I knew it was a vulnerable position, I crawled as far as the hallway before I was able to push myself onto my feet, and then had to use the wall to help me walk.
I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious, and even though I would’ve bet my life that Collin would come running in at the first sign of me waking up, I was now second-guessing everything because I didn’t know my monster at all anymore. He could have been waiting, for all I knew. Watching with those dead eyes from somewhere in the house as I slowly dragged one foot in front of the other toward the front door, the whole time a sick smile played on his face. I was soaked head to toe, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have time or the strength to go into my bedroom to change. I needed to get out. I needed to run.
Just before I made it to the front door, I caught sight of myself in the large mirror in the entryway, and what I saw made my already-trembling body start jerking from the force of my silent sobs. I looked like someone coming back from the dead to get their revenge. I was so terrifying I was only able to look at myself for a split second before I looked away. I didn’t have time to change the wet clothes or shoes, but I also couldn’t afford to have anyone call the police if they saw me and my blood-tinted shirt.
Turning around, I pulled open the entry closet and grabbed one of Collin’s dark hoodies. It swallowed me whole, but none of my coats in that closet had hoods, and I needed something to hide the gash on my forehead, which was pumping out blood again.
My shoulders dropped in relief when I finally made it outside and didn’t see Collin’s car, but I knew better than to let my guard down now.
He can still be playing a game with you. He may have just moved his car to make you think he left. You need to get out of here, Harlow. You need to run. You need to go faster than this. You need to run! I chanted to myself, and was glad to see that each step was a little easier, and a little faster than the last.
There was something freeing in running—well, shuffling—from that house. From him. There was also something close to panic that was threatening to cripple me. Something that kept screaming at me to go back so I wouldn’t make Collin mad; that screamed he would find me. I tried to push those thoughts aside. He’d changed things tonight.
I’d thought at the hospital that I’d have to be good in order to keep Hadley and my family safe, but then I hadn’t been able to keep my mouth shut. And then it had happened, what I’d been afraid of all day, but had still thought could be weeks, even months, away. Collin had snapped. No, Collin’s monster had snapped, and he’d decided he was done. He had tried to kill me.
I stopped walking when that thought floated through my mind, and couldn’t stop the sharp cry that burst from my chest before I was able to slap my hands over my mouth. Through everything over the last two and a half years, I’d known I could get through it. And it had escalated to this all within a few short days. I’d hated my life, I’d hated him, but I’d never thought we’d get to this day. Knowing we had, remembering the look in his eyes and on his face, remembering the panic that had consumed me before the dark had welcomed me, was making it hard to breathe now.
Move, Harlow. Move.
I forced myself forward and didn’t stop until I found myself at the front of the neighborhood. I hadn’t thought this far ahead; I’d just known I needed to leave the house. Now I was turning in circles trying to figure out where to go from here. I was worried that if I started knocking on doors asking to use a phone, people would call the police either on me or for me.
I jumped when I heard a voice call out, “You lost, kid?”
I turned and found a man not much older than myself looking at me from across the street. He was holding a leash attached to a fierce-looking dog, but the dog was too excited about the car directly next to him to notice me. The man’s eyes squinted and he bent in an effort see inside the hood I had pulled down low. My hands twisted nervously as I stuttered out in a hoarse voice, “N-no, I’m trying to get to Thatch. But I don’t have a ride or a phone.”
He laughed, and I found myself relaxing at the sound. It was calm and amused, not a hint of the evil I’d lived with and had come to know so well. “What teenager doesn’t have a phone these days?”
I didn’t correct him on the teenager part.
He pointed at me as he continued. “I’d be damn lucky to have you in one of my classes. I feel like I spend more time taking phones away than I do teaching.”
I nodded and glanced away for a second to gather myself. I needed to ask him to use his phone, but that meant I’d get closer to him . . . and that’s where this all got tricky. “Can I—”
“What are you headed to Thatch for?” he asked, and his tone held a hint of something other than curiosity. It sounded like worry, but that didn’t make sense; he didn’t know me in order to worry about me. When I looked at him again, he’d let the dog into his car and had his door open, but he continued to stand there watching me.
It took me a few seconds to think of the best response, and from his face it was a fe
w seconds too long. “I’m going back to Thatch. I’m not supposed to be here.”
The man thought for a minute, then sighed. “Look, kid, if you were one of my students, I would call your parents and wait with you until they showed. But you’re not, and I’m already running late to get to my fiancée’s house—which is just on the other side of Thatch.”
I wanted to tell him he couldn’t be more than a few years older than me, but decided to keep my mouth shut and waited.
“If you can promise me, and I mean really promise me, that you’ll maybe reconsider whatever it is you’ve been doing that you would need to find a ride back to Thatch, I’ll give you a ride there.”
As long as it got me out of this neighborhood and as far away from Collin as I could get right now, I would promise him anything. “I promise.”
He gestured toward his car, and when I walked toward it, he held his hands up. “I mean, I know grown-ups aren’t cool, and parents are the least cool of them all, but they usually know what they’re talking about.”
I nodded, not knowing what else to do or say, and paused outside the passenger door. “Um, I’m wet. I was . . . thrown into a pool with my clothes on.”
“The seats will be fine,” he said after only a second to consider. I could tell by his body language that he was anxious to start driving.
Once we were driving out of the neighborhood, he began talking again. “This is Spartacus,” he said, gesturing toward the Rottweiler who was sniffing and licking the jacket I was wearing. “I’m Max, but I guess that’s weird since everyone your age calls me Mr. Farro.”
“Low,” I responded, my voice still too hoarse to sound normal. When it looked like he was waiting for me to finish speaking, I clarified, “My name is Low.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Interesting name.”
“Thank you so much for doing this.”
Max waved off my thanks. “Just consider what I said. Things seem fun at the time, and it can be fun and exciting to rebel, but you can end up regretting it. Trust me, I’ve been there before—and I have to see it all the time with my students.”
Again, I didn’t know how to respond to that. “I’m sorry, but may I use your phone?” I didn’t know how to tell him I didn’t know where I was going; I also didn’t know how I was going to explain it once we got into Thatch, but I needed to let Knox know I was coming.
After debating for a few seconds, he reached into his pocket and pulled a phone out. “Don’t go calling your boyfriend or anything. Call your parents, or someone who can help you out tonight.”
Despite the afternoon and evening that had been weighing me down, I smiled to myself. He talked like a grandpa who thought he needed to make sure I went down the right path in life. If I weren’t covered in blood and bruises, I would’ve given anything to see his reaction if I pulled off my hood. “Of course,” I murmured.
After dialing Knox’s number, I held my breath while it rang and rang, and my stomach sank when his voice mail eventually picked up. No. No, I need to get to you, I don’t know how to find you! I hung up and tried again, but got the same result. This time I left a short, direct message.
“It’s Low, I’ll be in Thatch soon.”
I hung up and reluctantly handed Max’s phone back to him. I hoped his phone would ring sometime on the drive, but it didn’t. So I sat there worrying over how I was going to find Knox, and what was going to happen with my family and Collin, while letting Spartacus lick my borrowed jacket and listening to Max talk about the history class he taught at Hanford High School.
“Where to?” Max asked when we entered Thatch.
“Uh . . .” I looked around, not knowing what to do. Thatch was a small town—incredibly small—but I still couldn’t go door-to-door. That would take forever, and again, would probably result in police. “You can just drop me off here,” I suggested as we came up on a few shops.
“Are you sure?” Max asked, his tone disapproving. He was in grandpa mode again. Mid-twenties going on sixty.
“Yes, I’d prefer it, if you don’t mind.”
With a heavy sigh, Max pulled his car over. He sent me a wary glance and once again tried to look in my hood. “You keep yourself safe, get yourself home, and thank your parents for being so awesome.”
I cracked another smile I knew he couldn’t see. “Of course. Thank you, Max.”
“That’s Mr. Farro to you,” he said, his voice teasing.
I stumbled out of his car, and tried to gain my footing as quickly as possible without showing any more signs of how dizzy or uncomfortable I was. I couldn’t tell if my head was bleeding anymore, but it had bled enough, and now that I was standing again, everything was tilting to the side—making me feel like I was drunk.
Concentrating on each step, I put one foot in front of the other and walked into a little shop directly in front of me. And only then did Max drive off.
“Can I help you?” a man asked from behind the counter. “Before you demand it, I don’t have more than thirty bucks in the register.”
“Oh, I don’t want—no, I—” I huffed, and only regretted my wardrobe choice for a second before remembering it was necessary. “I just need to find Knox Alexander.”
Like Max had done, the man squinted as he tried to see in the hood. “Know him, don’t know how to get in touch with him. Sorry, little lady.”
I nodded and thanked the man, then went to the next shop, only to get similar results—that time complete with a death glare from a girl standing in the store. The next place over, which was half coffee shop, half bookstore, had at least a dozen people in it and made me feel a little more hopeful. But I was now swaying again from how long I’d been standing. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to make it all the way to the front of my neighborhood earlier when I could barely stay standing for a few minutes now.
I was breathing heavily by the time I forced myself over to the counter. There was a pregnant girl probably around my age standing behind it, and her eyebrows rose when she saw me.
“Hi,” she said awkwardly. And while she didn’t try to look into my hood, she kept giving me close looks, like she was worried about what I was going to do. “What can I make you?”
“Nothing. I need—”
Her eyes widened with dread, and her hands instinctively covered her swollen stomach.
“No, no I don’t want to hurt you,” I said. The hoarseness of my voice made my words sound weak and whiny, but that also could have had something to do with the fact that I knew I didn’t have long before I couldn’t keep myself upright, and I wasn’t getting any closer to finding Knox. “I just need to find Knox Alexander. I have to talk to him. Do you know him?”
The pregnant girl relaxed and shook her head. “You and every other girl in this town as well as the surrounding cities. Sorry, but you’re going to have to get in line with all the other women trying to find him again.”
Her words hurt, but what did I expect? I’d known he’d tried to forget me. I’d made him do that; I hadn’t waited for him.
“Do you know where he is? Or how to get in touch with someone who does? Or can I just use your phone?” I was desperate, and I knew I’d already tried that, but I was hoping enough time had passed that he’d answer now. “I was with him today. He will come get me, and I need to see him.”
She huffed, but she didn’t sound annoyed; there was pity behind it. “Well, now I know you’re lying. And, no, I’m not letting you use the phone, and I’m not giving you his number.”
Tears slid down my cheeks, and I wanted to scream. She knew him; she knew where he was. I was so close, and she wasn’t going to let me get any closer. “I have his number, I just need a phone. Please!”
The pregnant girl now looked at me closely, just like everyone else had—eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “If you have his number, why don’t you use your own phone?” she asked, but her question sounded genuine.
“I don’t have it.”
“And why not?”
“I-I . . . I just don’t,” I whimpered, and swayed. “Please, it’s so important for me to find him as soon as possible.”
The girl tried to lean closer to me, but her swelling stomach wouldn’t allow it. After a few silent seconds, she quietly asked, “What’s your name?”
I wasn’t sure why it mattered, but I found myself answering her anyway. “My name is Harlow.”
I’d barely gotten my entire name out before her eyes widened and she rocked back on her heels. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my . . . shit. Anne!” she yelled. “Anne! I need to go home! Right now, I’m leaving right now. I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow!” She’d been taking off her dark apron as she talked, and she gave it to a woman—Anne, I presumed—without stopping. She rounded the counter and grabbed my hand to tow me outside with her. “Come with me,” she said when I stumbled after her.
“Look, I don’t know how you know Knox, but I don’t have time for this.” Or the strength, I thought lamely. “I really—”
The girl whirled on me and wrapped her arms around me. I stilled and bit back a cry of pain. “I always knew you’d come for him.” When she pulled back, her eyes were glistening. “Stupid hormones. Get in the car; I’ll explain.”
Knowing I didn’t have another option, I followed her to her car and slid into the passenger side. My face twisted in pain, but I knew my hood hid it.
Once we were driving, she started talking. “I just realized you might not know me. But I know everything about you, and everything about you and Knox. I have for years.” She glanced at me quickly and flashed a smile. “My brother is one of his best friends and roommates; my name is Grey.”
Oh no. She was going to drive me as far away as she possibly could. “Grey, as in Graham’s sister?”
Her eyes widened. “You do know me?”
“Yes, but . . . look, I know you all hate me, but it’s an emergency. I need to see Knox.”
“Hate you?” she asked incredulously. “I don’t hate you . . .” She trailed off and looked sheepish for a moment. “There have been times I hated you for what you did to Knox. But he loves you, always has.” She paused again, and this time when she spoke she didn’t have the same excitement in her tone. “I didn’t agree with you seeing each other while you were married. But if you’re coming to him, then that must mean you made a decision, right?”
To the Stars (Thatch #2) Page 22