I’ve survived this before. I can do it again until I find something else.
With an elaborate sweep of his hand, he gestures for me to walk inside.
“Thank you.”
He takes great pleasure in that as well. My gratitude, lifting the corners of his mouth into the most deceiving smile I’ve ever seen.
I’m sure the devil smiles too. I’m sure it’s just as alluring.
He leans against the wall, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. “How’d the whole family thing turn out?” he asks behind me as I make my way toward the bedroom.
I stop almost to the door, my hand flattening against the wall. Slipping my fingers underneath the strap of the duffle, I pull my shoulders back and move with purpose.
Rocco finds my strength amusing, his cruel chuckle rumbling in the air like a storm in the distance, seeping into the bedroom after I collapse onto the bed.
I cry into the pillow, thinking about Reed and how sweet his laugh sounds.
Reed
BETH.
My hand reaches out, searching blinding for her warmth. Cool sheet fills my palm.
She’s not here.
No, of course she isn’t. Why would she be?
I did exactly what I told her I was going to do last night. What I needed to do. After finishing the last cosmetic details on Ben’s deck, I came home and crashed. I needed time to process everything. She needed time too. She was obviously still reeling from the shit with her dad.
My brave girl. She looked so small sitting next to me.
My mind wouldn’t go quiet, even at Ben’s while I was focused. I figured a full night’s sleep would help, but I was restless all night.
Beth.
At 11:30 p.m., I debated driving over to her aunt’s to see her. At a little past two, I palmed my phone and stared at the picture she saved as my wallpaper. A selfie taken of her and I, our faces squeezed together.
God, I was in love with her.
I was in love, and I was terrified, but fuck, I was so lost in love I didn’t want to be apart even while I came to terms with it. I forced myself to put my phone down and close my eyes. She didn’t need me waking her up at odd hours in the night. I would let her sleep, I would hopefully get some myself.
My soul missed her, my body craved her. Sleep evaded me.
“I love you . . . I love you.”
She nearly sobbed those words. All I wanted to do was say them.
Turning my head, I watch the pale light from the window dance along the carpet. I don’t need to look at the clock to know it’s still too fucking early. My alarm hasn’t sounded yet, but I can’t lie here anymore. I can’t ignore this strange loss settling over me any longer.
I shower and dress urgently after finally noting the time. Just enough to go see Beth, tell her everything I’m feeling, then bolt it to work. I’ll probably wake her up at this hour. She’ll look all sleep-rumpled and soft against the sheets. Leaving her might be a challenge.
As I’m grabbing a travel mug for my coffee, my phone rings from the bedroom. Puzzled, I run back up the stairs. It’s barely after five. No one calls me this early.
Beth Davis, from McGill’s flashes across my screen.
A familiar heat warms my chest, spreads down my spine. I’m suddenly wide awake.
“Hey, I was just coming over to see you. You’re up early.” My steps feel lighter as I advance back down the hallway. “God, Beth, I . . .”
“Reed, is she with you? P-Please tell me she’s there.”
I halt, not quite at the opening to the kitchen, recognizing the voice instantly. “Hattie? Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Beth,” she strains through a whimper. “Is she with you?”
I glance around me, confused, suddenly expecting Beth to jump out from behind something. “No,” I answer curiously, brushing a wet strand of hair off my forehead. “Why?”
“Oh, no,” she whispers. “Oh, no, no, no.”
Her voice sounds miles away. Worry plagues me, spreading in my veins like an infection. Coffee forgotten, I swipe my keys off the counter and head outside to my truck. I’m sprinting, my boots kicking up gravel.
“Hattie, what’s going on? Where’s Beth?”
She mumbles something I can’t understand, her voice breaking between fragile cries. Trapping the phone between my ear and shoulder, I start the truck and peel out onto the road.
“Hattie! Where is she?” I ask again when I don’t get an answer, my voice more demanding. My skin growing hot at the base of my neck.
She cries harder, sobbing now, breaking down completely. “She l-left. She went b-back ,” she wails, gasping for air.
Panic pollutes my mind. I break out in a cold sweat.
“What?” My response sticks to my tongue, struggling to roll past my lips as the world blurs in front of me. I blink heavily, solidly training on the road ahead. My hand violently shifts gears.