To the Stars (Thatch #2)(54)
“I do know how to fend for myself, Harlow,” he said with a sly grin. “Why do you have to go today?”
I didn’t understand what he was trying to trick me into saying with these questions. I went every week; he knew I went. I had to go every week because of one of Collin’s forms of teaching, as he liked to call it. He threw away every item of food in the pantry and fridge on Sunday nights—not including spices and what was needed for breakfast on Monday. “You’re the one wasting the food, Harlow, since you can’t seem to figure out how to buy the right amount of groceries,” he always said.
I swallowed and tried to push down my irritation with him for making me explain something that he so often used against me. “Because I only buy enough food for the week when I go, so we don’t have any food.”
Collin’s eyes flickered to the side, like he’d just remembered that fact, then his eyes fell to my throat. “I guess if we have no food then you have no choice, but I’m going with you.”
My hand shot up to the large bruise on my throat, and it was then that I finally understood the questions, and understood how he could forget about our foodless house. Collin didn’t want me leaving the house at all because he’d left visible proof. He was going to the store with me to make sure I didn’t do something stupid, like tell someone.
“Get ready and let’s go.”
I tried to hide my confusion as he got off the bed. How long had I slept if he was able to go to the store with me now? I glanced at the clock, and my head whipped around to look at Collin again when I saw it was only eleven in the morning. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” My body tightened the second the question left my lips. It had been a simple question, and an honest one, but that wasn’t something I could ask Collin. I wasn’t allowed to question anything he did, and I couldn’t believe I’d done it just then.
Collin’s head slowly tilted to the side, and I wanted nothing more than to run from the dark, lifeless look he was giving me. A look of pain flashed across his face as he took the few steps back to the bed and knelt onto it. If it weren’t for his eyes—which were focused just under my chin—I would think he was about to beg for forgiveness judging by the expression on his face. His fingers faintly traced over the bruise before his entire hand was wrapping around my neck and he was slamming me onto the bed. My shocked gasp was cut off when he covered my mouth with his and, one at a time, tightened his fingers on my throat. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” he asked quietly against my lips.
As if my monster had never made an appearance, Collin’s hand jerked away from me and he got off the bed. I watched as the hand that had been on me flexed and relaxed over and over again as he tried to keep himself in check; his eyes never once left me. “Get dressed, Harlow,” he demanded so softly I barely caught the words. “Make sure you cover that—just cover yourself.”
I waited until he walked out of the bedroom before I released a shaky breath that sounded more like a sob, and let the tremors take over my body. I’d thought it would be dangerous to let myself believe that we could change. I was wrong . . . that wasn’t the danger. The danger was that for the first time, Collin was trying to control the monster inside of him, and was now more unpredictable than ever.
Chapter 13
Harlow
Present Day—Richland
I AUTOMATICALLY REACHED out and opened my mouth to stop Collin when he pulled a pack of eggs off the store shelf an hour and a half later, and realized a second too late what I was doing.
His arm froze with the eggs in the air. “What?” he sneered, soft enough that his voice wouldn’t carry.
“Um, it’s just, well that’s a lot.”
“You said you needed these.”
“We do,” I said quickly, and finally got the carton out of his hands. “But not three dozen. I’m lucky if you finish a dozen in a week.”
Collin turned to smile at me, but from where I was standing I could see he was clenching his teeth. He leaned in and brushed his lips against my jaw. “Watch yourself, Harlow,” he warned, then took the eggs back from me and placed them into the shopping cart. “Now what?”
I glanced at the list on my phone, but before I could say the next item we needed, a deep voice called out my husband’s name.
“Collin Doherty. Playing hooky, are we?”
I looked up in time to see Collin’s million-dollar smile as we both turned to see who had called him, and my skin crawled.
“Ah, Ren. I guess that makes two of us.” Collin put his hand on the small of my back and brought me closer to his side when Ren stopped next to me. “Ren, you remember my wife, Harlow?”
“Of course.” Ren barely spared me a glance as his meaty hand drifted from my elbow down to my wrist, and didn’t seem to notice the way Collin pulled me back a step as Ren asked, “What has you away from work today? And who is taking care of the county’s money if you are here, and old Alfred McKenzie is probably out getting a hip replaced?”
Collin laughed. “The money is fine. Besides, the wife and I have some personal things we need to take care of this week. I’ll probably be working from home a lot.”
That was news to me, and unwelcome news at that. Personal things don’t usually include ice showers, guns, and bruises, and don’t need to be hidden behind a lot of makeup and scarves, I thought to myself.