To the Stars (Thatch #2)(5)



My eyes widened at the suggestive tone, and I fumbled for something to say that wouldn’t have him shutting down on me again. Nothing came to mind. “Really, don’t stay out here for me. I’ll call someone.”

“I didn’t come here for the shows. I came to give Sara a ride back to her place later.” His eyes held that same conflict from earlier as he stared at me for long moments. “Besides, if I had to choose between being in there, or out here with you, I would choose you.”

“Because I need a protector.” It hadn’t been a question. I was frustrated that he felt like he had to baby me.

His head shook subtly and eyes darted away, and his voice dropped even lower. “I wish that were my reason.”

Present Day—Richland

I KEPT THE smile on my face and pushed at my salad as I listened to Hadley rant about this guy she had been dating off and on. After shopping for a couple of hours and getting our nails done, we’d come to one of our favorite restaurants in Richland to talk in the remaining time I had left before I had to go home and make dinner.

Hadley was going to school at Washington State University Tri-Cities so she could be closer to me. I loved these times with her; they were something I craved on the days when I felt like I was drowning. But at the same time, they were a struggle to get through. Our sister, Hayley, had been too focused on her young kids the few times I’d seen her since Collin and I married—something that was a saving grace for me since she had always been the perceptive one. But now she lived in Connecticut with her husband, and we saw her once a year; twice, if we were lucky.

Hadley was different. Hadley didn’t notice anything other than the perfect world around her. She saw life through rose-colored glasses, always had. So all I needed to do was keep a smile on my face when I was near her, and she’d never know any thing was wrong. It wasn’t hard keeping the smile. I was good at faking happiness for the sake of my family. The problem was that I could never offer anything about my life, and when I did, it was lies. It was exhausting. My body always stayed tense throughout our times together; I was afraid that somehow she would notice something was off—see something she wasn’t meant to.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked suddenly.

Like that.

“I am eating,” I said with a soft laugh, putting a forkful in my mouth to emphasize my statement.

She stole a bite of my salad, and waved her fork around as she chewed. “So, anyway, I just don’t know what to do about him.”

“Well, it’s summer; it’s the perfect time for you two to take a break since he’s back home for a few months. Maybe date some other people. You’re only nineteen, Hadley; don’t just focus on this one guy. You have three more years of college; enjoy them, and enjoy all the different guys.”

She looked at me skeptically. “You got married when you were nineteen.”

“I turned twenty a month later.”

“Like that makes a difference?” She smiled, because she knew she was right. “You can’t preach to me about settling down young when you did it yourself.” She sighed and pursed her lips. “I want to find a Collin.”

My body tightened, and the smile froze on my face.

“I want to find someone who will take care of me the way he takes care of you. Admit it, sis, your life is pretty perfect. You don’t have to work, your husband pays for us to have days like this; he’s hot, he’s rich . . . he’s hot.”

He’s a monster.

“You know what I want for you?” I asked quickly as I leaned forward, my question coming across a little too urgent. “To find someone who will love you through anything. Years. Distance. Separation. Anything. That’s what I want for you.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mom.”

I cleared my throat and attempted a smile, grateful that she hadn’t noticed my tone. “Speaking of Mom . . . are you going home this summer?”

I sat back and resumed pushing my salad around when she launched into what her plans were for the summer. When I dropped her off an hour later at the apartment she was renting with some friends, I cried in relief as the tension drained from my muscles.

I hurried to get dinner ready when I got home, then walked through the house one more time, looking for anything I might have missed. I’d cleaned the bathroom from both our showers, the rest of the house still looked spotless, the new purse and shoes I’d bought this afternoon were sitting on display on the entryway table for Collin to see when he got home, and I’d just finished putting all the dishes away before I’d began my walk-through. My hands were shaking as I stared at the plates on the table. Something was missing. I just couldn’t think of what it was.

Chicken, potatoes, green beans. Forks, knives, spoons, napkins. Salt. Pepper. I glanced at the time and swallowed thickly. Oh God, oh God! What the hell is missing?

I had two minutes before Collin drove up the driveway; he was never a minute late. I wasn’t sure, but I’d started thinking he parked down the street waiting until the same time every day just so he could instill this fear in me for when he would show.

Drinks!

I rushed through the kitchen and pulled down four glasses. After filling two with ice and water and the others with wine, I set all the glasses on the table seconds before I heard the key in the lock, and my trembling increased.

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