Come to Me Quietly(112)

The good.

Maybe it was her. Maybe it was the way she’d managed to strip me bare and shred me thin.

Fuck.

Two warm hands pressed into my cheeks. I hated the way they felt, like welcome and forgiveness and all this bullshit that could never be, like maybe she understood, too, and it was about all I could do not to knock them away. I gritted my teeth, doing my best not to lose my shit. I was teetering right on the edge of that f*cking cliff, and when I fell, I knew I’d be taking the people I cared about down with me.

“Oh my God, Jared, where have you been? How long have you been here? Why didn’t you let me know?” Questions tumbled from Karen’s mouth just as quickly as tears streaked down her face. Her attention jumped around the apartment, hunting for clues, before she turned her gentle brown eyes back on me, eyes that reminded me of too many things.

Guilt spun, stoking the agitation that was working its way free. Anxiety buzzed through my consciousness, clenching my jaw, fisting my hands. My head f*cking pounded. That warning system was sounding off louder than it ever had, screaming at me to bolt. This time I was apparently in full agreement because all I wanted to do was grab my shit and go.

Christopher scratched at the back of his head, the same way he always did when he was put on the spot. “Uh, yeah, Mom, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I ran into Jared a few nights ago and I invited him to hang out here while he’s passing through town.”



Passing through.

The lie bled so easily from him, quick to cover that I’d actually been staying with them for close to three months. He cautioned me with a glance that said it was okay to correct him, but he was giving me an out. I could take it either way. The guy always had my back while I continually fed him lies night after night.

I almost spat the words. “Yep… just passing through.”



Aly’s face crumpled, like I might as well have kicked her in the stomach when I didn’t dispute Christopher’s claim. Shame pressed down on me from all sides, sucking every f*cking last drop of air from the room.

“Oh?” Karen kind of frowned. “Well, I’m just glad you’re here.” Smoothing herself out, she took a step back, like maybe she’d just clued in on the fact that I was about to snap. She wiped under her eyes to rid herself of the evidence of her tears. A strained smile pushed to her trembling lips. “It’s been far too long. How long are you staying?”



Helpless, I could do nothing but cast a furtive glance in Aly’s direction. Of course, I got stuck there. She filled up my line of sight like a buoy bobbing in the water, just out of reach, while I slowly drowned.

I could barely speak through the f*cking rock lodged in my throat. “Not long,” I said, and somehow I knew it was the truth, because I could feel it building. The destruction.

I don’t get to have this.

Because I owed my life.

I sat in the empty lot behind the same deserted building I’d found myself in almost three months ago the night after I’d first confronted Aly in the kitchen. I was slumped back against the coarse stucco wall, my head lolling from side to side. Alcohol soaked my senses, dampened them into a suffocating heaviness, like maybe I was being buried alive. But it did nothing to lessen the images, the pictures that had spun through my mind on an unending reel since the second Karen Moore had stepped foot through the door.

I rammed the heels of my hands to my eyes, desperate to blot it out. Colors flickered, visions streaming in this unbearably vivid light. I roared into the silence.

Motherf*cking trigger.