To the Stars (Thatch #2)

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To the Stars (Thatch #2) Page 26

by Molly McAdams


  His. Everything about his position then screamed that, just as the way I clung to him showed he was mine.

  “I love you,” I whispered into the dark room as he continued to hold me—not willing to let this moment end, while I wasn’t willing to let him go.

  Knox placed a soft kiss where he’d bitten down, then moved his head to whisper in my ear. “To the stars, Low.”

  I exhaled slowly and smiled as I ran my fingers through his hair. To some, it might not mean much. But to us, those words meant more than just “I love you.”

  When Knox did pull away, he kept his body touching mine as long as he could by sliding down and kissing my lower stomach and the top of one of my thighs before reluctantly moving away from me and off the bed. He ducked into what I assumed was his bathroom, and after a minute, came back with a warm, damp washcloth, then proceeded to kiss me slowly, tenderly, as he helped me clean up.

  The look on his face before he left again was clear, and I’m sure mirrored my own. He didn’t want to leave this bed for the rest of the day, but we had a lot we had to figure out and deal with. So when he walked back to the bathroom, I climbed off the bed and grabbed the bag of clothes Deacon and Graham had bought last night.

  I’d half-expected the clothes to be for someone five sizes bigger than me, just because it was something they would’ve done in the past—but I was surprised when they ended up fitting me better than most of my clothes did now. They’d even bought a new scarf to cover the bruises on my throat.

  Knox was walking back into the room by the time I was dressed and headed toward the bathroom—since the guys had been gracious enough to also grab toiletries for me—and hooked an arm around my waist to kiss me softly.

  “No matter what happens when we walk out of this room, we’re going to spend the next fifty years waking up next to each other. Just remember that. All right?”

  I smiled and nodded. “Why not sixty?”

  Knox’s dark eyes danced. “For you, I’ll make sure it’s sixty.”

  I hurried into the bathroom when he released me; when I came back out I found him dressed and waiting for me on the edge of the bed, with a guarded look on his face.

  He nodded toward the door. “Your mother hens came to check on you.” Knox looked like he didn’t know what to say, and shrugged. “They’re good guys, Harlow, the best . . . but I know they’ve never shown you that side of them. I don’t expect you to ever forgive them; they already know I don’t. Even though they are acting weird and taking this new thing to an extreme level of protecting you and taking care of you, I can promise you it’s genuine. You don’t have to be worried about them. I think they’ve always only thought of you as a liar, and now that they know you aren’t, and know a sliver of what you’ve been through, they will protect you as much as I would.”

  He must have noticed the skeptical look in my eyes.

  “Do you remember my sister, Sara?” When I nodded, he continued. “I don’t know if I ever talked to you about how often she was bullied in school.”

  “Because she’s gay?”

  Knox grunted in confirmation and said, “Deacon and Graham were always right there with me, defending her like she was their sister. Then Grey . . . she’s been through a lot of bad shit since you turned eighteen. A lot. But you know none of us see her as just Graham’s sister; she’s our sister. And through all those times, Deacon and Graham were the most loyal and protective brothers those girls could have.”

  My eyes moved to the closed bedroom door. In a way, I could see it. Not just because of last night, but because they’d seen me as a threat to Knox . . . their “brother,” and they’d done everything they could to make sure that threat went away.

  “Graham and Deacon know that I would walk away from our friendship for you, and—”

  “I don’t want that,” I said quickly, and looked back at him. “I’ve never wanted that.”

  “I know. But they didn’t give me a lot of other options with the way they’d treated you, and our relationship.” When I started to speak again, Knox stood from the bed and lifted his hand to stop me. “Let me finish. They know I would walk, so if it ever got to that point again, I would leave with you and never once regret my decision. But with how they are, I don’t see that happening. They know you’re mine, but being mine means you get them, too. They will treat you how they treat Grey and Sara. They will be protective and loyal to a fault, and right now you’re in danger, so they’re going to be a little overwhelming. But—and I’m not trying to ask you to forget what they’ve done in the past—if you can be open to starting over, they will be the greatest guys to have in your life. And I know that if anything hap—” Knox cut off and looked away for a minute. When he spoke again, he still wouldn’t hold my gaze. “If something happens so that I can’t be the one to take care of you, they’ll do it for me.”

  “Knox,” I whispered, and shook my head. “What are you—you said you weren’t going to do anything!”

  “I don’t plan to,” he said carefully, and finally looked back at me. “But if it comes down to it, I will do whatever I have to in order to keep you safe, and away from him. No matter what that means.”

  “You just promised me sixty years,” I said when he pulled me into his chest.

  He didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was tight. “I plan to keep that promise.”

  But I knew what he wasn’t saying. That it might not be possible. And with Collin waiting for us somewhere outside this house . . . I knew Knox was right.

  Chapter 21

  Harlow

  Present Day—Thatch

  GRAHAM AND DEACON were sitting at the kitchen table when we finally left the room and went to search for them, and both of them shot up out of their chairs when they saw us walking toward them.

  “Hey, right,” Graham said, and his eyes dropped to the table where there were more to-go boxes.

  “Clothes fit,” Deacon observed, then cleared his throat. “I mean, do the clothes fit?”

  “We bought breakfast,” Graham said before I could answer Deacon’s question, and my eyes widened when he continued. “Are you hungry? You should probably eat, we got a lot of food, take whatever you want.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t get eggs!” Deacon blurted. “No eggs, so you don’t have to—” Graham shoved his arm, and Deacon looked worried, like I might break down right there in their kitchen. “Um, so how’s your head? We should probably look at the cut,” Deacon mumbled as his eyes locked on my forehead.

  “We don’t need to do anything. I cleaned it again before we came out here,” Knox said, his tone annoyed, but clearly amused.

  Knox had given them a perfect description. Mother hens.

  I stopped playing with my hands and gestured to the food. “Thank you, and thank you for the clothes, and everything. Just . . . thank . . . you,” I ended lamely. Because before I’d finished with my thanks, Deacon and Graham were already moving into action.

  Deacon was grabbing a plate and cup out of cupboards, and after handing off the plate to Graham, went over to the fridge to fill up the cup with orange juice while Graham piled food onto the plate. Graham was still filling the plate when Deacon set the drink down, so he turned right back around to grab silverware, and placed it in front of me at the same time Graham slid the beyond-full plate toward me.

  “I can’t . . .” I began, but didn’t finish. Both guys were staring at me like they were proud of what they’d done, and eager to have me eat.

  “I’ll eat what you can’t,” Knox promised softly in my ear, but the guys still heard.

  “Get your own, that’s hers!” Deacon huffed.

  Knox looked at me, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. His eyes dragged over to where the guys were now getting more plates for themselves and mouthed, “Mother hens.”

  Knox held out a chair for me, then walked into the kitchen once I was seated. When he slid into the chair next to me, all he had was a fork. My eyes were still wide as I a
lternated staring at the plate and eyeing the other two guys in the kitchen. I hated eating in front of people. They always noticed too much, things I didn’t want them to—not that these three didn’t already know enough. And from what Graham had placed in front of me, he and Deacon planned on me eating a lot.

  There were two biscuits—each one bigger than one of my fists—smothered in gravy, four sausage patties, four strips of bacon, a mountain of hash browns, and the largest cinnamon roll I’d ever seen.

  Knox’s lips went to my ear. “They aren’t expecting anything, they’re just giving you a choice. They won’t judge you, Low.” With a kiss to my jaw, he pulled away, only to bring my chair closer to his as he dug into the food.

  I looked over the table as the other two guys followed his lead, and tried to sort through the twisting in my stomach and warming in my chest. Everything felt so conflicted, and I couldn’t make sense of it. This morning felt good, right even. Waking up in Knox’s arms, spending unhurried time learning each other’s bodies, and now eating breakfast with him and his friends—that was the warming in my chest. Sitting there, I could see this happening for years to come. But then my stomach twisted tighter.

  No matter how right it all felt, no matter how much I wanted it, it felt like a lie in that moment. We were pretending that my monster wasn’t somewhere waiting for me, probably already making plans to hurt those I loved—if he wasn’t already trying to carry them out.

  I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at the table but seeing nothing, before Knox tilted my head to the side so I was facing him.

  “What is it?” he asked, his voice low and tone dark. His body was on alert suddenly, and the guys felt the anxious energy rolling off Knox, judging by the way they both dropped their forks.

  I held Knox’s stare for a few seconds as I debated telling him. I didn’t want to ruin the morning, but we couldn’t avoid it forever. “I need to do something about Collin. Soon.”

  Knox was nodding before I finished talking. “We know. We’re going to talk about our plans when we’re done eating.”

  I glanced to Deacon and Graham, and took in their worried but determined expressions, and wondered just how much the three of them had done while I’d slept last night. While looking at them, I noticed it was still somewhat dark behind the closed blinds in the kitchen, and looked around the kitchen until I found a clock.

  “Six fifteen? Why are you guys awake—how long have you been awake? And how did you get all this food?”

  Deacon shrugged. “We had things to do, and Mama’s Café opens at six, but we have connections.”

  “He has connections,” Graham corrected.

  Once again, Deacon shrugged. “My grandma is ‘Mama.’”

  “Oh.” I felt my cheeks burn. I hadn’t had anyone go through this much trouble for me ever, and didn’t know how to respond to it. “Thank you.”

  “Just eat,” Graham prompted. “Like Knox said, we’ll talk after.”

  From his tone, I knew they had plenty to talk about.

  I was able to finish part of a sausage patty, two bites of biscuit and gravy, one bite of hash browns, and the entire center of the cinnamon roll. I smiled to myself and placed a hand on my stomach as I wondered when the last time was that I’d been full, but my smile fell when I looked up to see Graham and Deacon with twin looks of sympathy.

  They were trying to look understanding, but it was obvious they wished I’d eaten more. And since the three of them were able to polish the rest of the food off, I was willing to bet it wasn’t because they were worried about any of it being wasted.

  Graham’s eyes drifted over to Knox and quickly hit the table, then Deacon did the same. I didn’t know what Knox’s expression looked like, but I figured I didn’t want to and was glad for the interruption from Graham and Deacon.

  The forks hadn’t hit the plates before they’d all started talking at the same time.

  “So what’d you see?” Knox asked.

  “There’s a weird car on our street,” Graham whispered in a rush.

  “Here’s what I think you should do,” Deacon said as he dropped his elbows onto the table.

  They all sat back and looked at each other. Knox was the first to speak again. “What do you mean weird car. What kind of car?”

  “Like, a car that doesn’t belong here,” Graham answered. “I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive it was there last night when we left to get Harlow the outfit, but I hadn’t been looking then. But it was definitely there when I left to check the house, it was there when I came back, and it was there this morning when Deacon left to get the food.”

  “What kind of car?” Knox asked again.

  “Dark, some BMW,” Graham said immediately, and I felt Knox stop breathing at the same time my body began shaking.

  “Wait, you think this is Collin?”

  All the guys looked at me for a few seconds before Deacon asked slowly, “Yeah, what’d you think we were talking about?”

  “Not Collin! I thought this was normal, nosy neighborhood talk. Why would you think he’d know where to find me? I’m not even sure if he does know about Knox, and he doesn’t know about either of you. I’ve never even mentioned knowing anyone in Thatch.”

  “Because he has cops working for him, and if he’s found you running away before, he can find you now,” Knox explained.

  “But I was driving my car that time. This time I walked, and took different cars, and . . .” I trailed off as dread spread through my stomach. “And it was too easy.” My head snapped up and I held Knox’s worried stare. “I told you it didn’t make sense that he’d just not be there, or that I’d be able to leave. It didn’t make sense; he could’ve followed me. Oh my God. I can’t stay here, I can’t put you in danger like this.”

  Knox squeezed my hand reassuringly and glanced at Graham for a second. “Do you have any idea what kind of BM—”

  “One of the X’s,” Graham said with a snap. “The SUV ones.”

  I exhaled so quickly, it sounded like I was in pain.

  “Is it his?”

  “No,” Knox answered Graham so I wouldn’t have to. “But he does have a dark BMW.” Knox bent close to me. “What kind of cars do his parents have?”

  “The exact same, just different colors.”

  Knox rolled his eyes, because I also had the same car in another color as well. “Isn’t that cute,” he sneered.

  I took a calming breath and asked, “How would you know a car doesn’t belong here?”

  This time Deacon answered. “Thatch is small. Everyone here knows everyone and their business. During the summer we have visitors out by the lake, or the center of town, but it’s rare when you don’t know a car in one of the neighborhoods—especially your own neighborhood. We know everyone who lives around us, know their cars, and know the cars that are usually there visiting. It’s hard not to when we’ve all grown up together. So when there’s a different car on a street, people start talking.” He shrugged and grinned widely. “People don’t think twice about random cars here, because too many girls come in and out of—” He broke off quickly when Knox and Graham shot him a look, and my stomach fell. “Regardless, we don’t know that car, and it caught enough attention that a woman down the street asked if it I knew whose it was when I saw her walking her dog this morning.”

  “Where is it?” Knox asked.

  “Three houses that way,” Deacon said, and pointed in the direction behind Knox and me.

  “Back to your earlier question,” Graham said, and his eyes darted to me. “There were two cars in the driveway when I drove past at one this morning. Two BMWs.”

  It took me a second to understand what he was saying, and then all the blood drained from my face. “You went—you went. Why!”

  Knox squeezed my hand as Graham continued. “I already knew what those two cars looked like, but I didn’t know if maybe the car on our street was some other—anyway, you already answered about that. But all the lights were on in the
house, and I mean all of the lights. It was lit up bright and the blinds were open. It was weird for how late it was.”

  “I never opened the curtains or blinds yesterday,” I mumbled. “That was dangerous going there.”

  “I didn’t even slow down as I passed your house,” he assured me.

  “Deacon?” Knox murmured.

  “Is Collin’s dad like this, too? I don’t just mean with the abuse, but with the money and paying people off.”

  “No,” I responded, at first surprised he would ask, but then I understood and continued. “No, he’s just a very rich man who thinks his son can do no wrong. He thinks he and Collin can rule the world, and that’s his only downfall. Everything Flynn does is by the book, other than pulling a few strings to get Collin into the treasury office. Collin’s parents are the nicest people, but they both came from money, grew into even more of it after they married, and I think it’s intoxicating to them and they might be insecure without it. They want the best because they want people to think they are the best, so they made sure Collin grew up that way, too. And it shows; we have everything he wants and thinks I could ever want. But I don’t know how my monster came from those people. Still, I think Flynn would do anything to keep Collin out of trouble, no matter what Collin did.”

  The guys accepted that answer.

  Deacon took a deep breath and looked to Knox, his expression somber. “Okay. You need to take Harlow somewhere safe while you do this. There’s no way around it. With who Collin is . . . who his dad is—even if he is an okay guy—and knowing that Collin has police receiving kickbacks from him, that means they could have people pretty much anywhere. Once you get her somewhere we’re all positive is safe, then we’ll start working on a way to expose Collin and get him arrested,” he said, gesturing to the guys.

  I shot up from my chair, but Knox quickly pulled me into his lap. “No,” I said sternly. “No, absolutely not.”

  “Low,” Knox growled.

  I twisted in his lap to look at him. “I’m not letting you put all of your lives on the line because of this!”

 

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