To the Stars (Thatch #2) Page 3

  “The guy is about to start college, Harlow! You really gonna force him into jail before he gets that chance?”

  My breaths were coming fast—too fast. Embarrassment flooded me, even though I had no idea what was going on. I looked back at Knox’s blank face and pleaded with him to help me understand. “What are they talking about?”

  He slowly turned his head to face me and offered me a weak smile. “It doesn’t matter. Just ignore them.”

  Hayley was suddenly behind us on the couch, and her lips were at my ear. “Let’s go.”

  “I don’t underst—”

  “Knox is eighteen,” she said, cutting me off.

  “And?”

  “Which now makes you a minor for him. It’s illegal for you two to have any kind of sexual relationship.”

  “We don’t!” I hissed.

  “I would never—” Knox began, and pushed his friends away when they urged him to leave, but Hayley’s next words were all I heard.

  “I know you wouldn’t do anything with him yet, Harlow. But since he’s not worried about hiding that he likes you, if anyone mentioned that the two of you did do something, he could go to jail. You two just being together the way you are right now puts him at risk.”

  All the blood drained from my face, and I could no longer hear the laughing, the jokes, or Hayley even though I knew she was still talking to me. I turned to face Knox again; the frustration and defeat were clear in his eyes.

  I tried pulling my hand from his, and he squeezed tighter. “Harlow, I don’t care.”

  “I do! I can’t do this to you.”

  When I pulled again, he didn’t try to stop me. Standing from the couch, I forced my way through everyone and to the stairs—ignoring their razzing and the tears that had started falling down my cheeks. I heard Hayley and Neil behind me as I climbed my way up, and soon there was only one set of footsteps following me. I was halfway across the lawn, my eyes blinking rapidly against the pouring rain when I was turned around.

  I flinched away from Knox. “Don’t!” I snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I decided it didn’t matter.”

  “How could that not matter?”

  “I know I wouldn’t do anything illegal with you.”

  I flung my hands out toward the house, and my eyes caught Knox’s two friends standing near the door with arms crossed over their chests as they watched us. Looking back at Knox, I hissed, “According to Hayley, it doesn’t matter if we do or don’t do anything illegal. If someone said something—God. I can’t do this to you, Knox.” He wrapped his arms around me, and held tight even when I tried to push away. “Don’t do this; we can’t risk anything.”

  “Then I’ll wait for you, Harlow,” he promised, and the sincerity in the words stunned me for long seconds. “I’ll wait until you’re eighteen.”

  Pushing against his chest, I shook my head. “For two and a half years, Knox? For a girl you barely know? Who can promise that after a week and a half?”

  “I—”

  “No, I can’t do that to you or me. I get it now—what was so wrong the other night at the concert when you found out how old I was; I get it. You should have told me that this was what you were worried about.”

  “Yeah, I should have. I also shouldn’t have stayed out there with you, or called you, but I couldn’t help it. I told you; it doesn’t matter to me. Do you think I usually go after girls your age?” His dark eyes searched mine, and he continued talking without giving me enough time to answer. “No, I don’t, but there is something about you that calls to me. I knew that to continue even talking to you was dangerous because I would keep falling way too fast. But I did, knowing I would be eighteen soon, knowing something like this might happen.”

  “I didn’t!” I said too loudly, my hand pressed firmly to my chest. “I cannot let you go into something that puts you at any kind of risk. Or that would be as uncomfortable as that was.” I pointed to the house. “I won’t do that to you.” He started to speak, and I talked over him. “And I can’t let you promise something to me that I can’t even promise you. Two and a half years? You’re eighteen and about to start college. You shouldn’t have to promise me anything. I know I don’t always act my age, but I am still fifteen. And as shitty as the truth sounds, I don’t see boys in terms of years and futures together. I see them in the now, what they make me feel right this second. I can’t even promise you the summer—let alone two and a half years.”

  “And yet, you’re crying,” he said gently.

  “Because right now what I want is you, and I can’t have you!”

  One hand wrapped around my waist; the other moved to fist in my long, wet hair. Before I could think of what was happening, his lips fell onto mine, and a shocked whimper moved up my throat. I clung to his arms as our lips moved in sync for a few short, blissful seconds. When he pulled back, I pressed my forehead to his chest so I wouldn’t have to look at his dark eyes. I would take back everything I’d just said if I looked at them now.

  “One day, Harlow Evans, you will be mine. I will wait for you.”

  “You’ll be wasting your time,” I choked out. My hands tightened on his arms as I tried to hold back more tears.

  A soft, amused laugh sounded close to my ear. “Never.”

  Present Day—Richland

  TWO DAYS LATER my purse and keys were returned to me, as promised, along with one of Collin’s credit cards. This time he wanted me to buy myself new earrings since I hadn’t screwed anything up in the last couple of days.

  I wanted to cut the card in half.

  But I hadn’t. I’d gone to a jewelry store downtown and picked a pair of diamond solitaire studs. I think the associate was confused by my lack of enthusiasm with the gift for myself, but it wasn’t his job to know why I was buying them—only that he was getting paid for helping me.

  That night I had my earrings on, Collin’s credit card in hand, and dinner on the table when he got home. After inspecting the house as he did every night, he walked up to me with a smile on his face before pressing his lips to mine. Taking the card from my fingers, he glanced at my ears for less than a second before turning toward the table to throw another bouquet of pink roses on top. He’d never once handed me the flowers he brought home for me, always just tossed them somewhere for me to gather later.

  “Do you like them?”

  “I do,” I answered automatically. “Thank you, Collin.”

  “Anything for my girl.”

  We ate dinner and he told me about work, spending only a few minutes to voice his annoyance that Alfred McKenzie—the Benton County treasurer, and the man Collin was waiting to replace—still didn’t have plans to retire, then telling me the rest of the new government gossip. My mind drifted as he droned on; it was the same conversation as always. Everything from some of the men’s sexual affairs, cases his dad had handled, to the new chief of police they were all in an uproar about. Collin’s dad, Flynn Doherty, was the prosecuting attorney in our county, and a great man.

  Unfortunately, he loved his son and was blind to any bad that could come from him, and had pulled some strings to get Collin a well-respected job in the treasury just after Collin had graduated from college. Alfred wasn’t around much due to his old age, leaving Collin to deal with most of the duties, and I worried about how much worse everything could get once Collin became treasurer—because everyone knew that when Collin ran, it would be unopposed. Even though Collin had been a trust fund baby and had more money than he knew what to do with, I knew he was already using the county’s money to keep police officers’ mouths shut, and I had no doubt it had been used in the incident with the arson in California.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked suddenly, and I glanced up.

  I had my fork in the air, and wondered how long it had been there. I shook my head once to clear my mind, and cleared my throat. “Um, the new chief of police,” I mumbled, and froze when Collin’s eyebrows slammed down over his eyes. The only reli
ef I felt was that his blue eyes were still his—they weren’t lifeless, they weren’t my monsters.

  Collin’s free hand clenched into a fist over and over as he watched me, and after a moment he started eating again. “As I was saying, we have a fund-raiser we’re expected to be at in two weeks.”

  I swallowed thickly at the mention of it, and was only able to push around my food for the rest of dinner as I fought to keep down what I’d already eaten.

  Fund-raisers and dinner parties meant we needed to impress people Collin or his dad worked with. They meant Collin expected me to be perfect, even though he had no problem showing me how imperfect I was while we were there, and again once we got home.

  We’d been at a dinner party the first time I’d caught a glimpse of my monster—and it also should have been the last night I ever saw Collin. But I was in love, we’d just gotten engaged, and I kept making excuses for him in my head.

  Spring 2012—Richland

  “I DON’T KNOW if I should wear my ring tonight,” I said, and bit down on my bottom lip as I tried to figure out what to do. I held my left hand in front of me, and my heart raced as my lips spread into a wide grin.

  This is right. This is what I want, I thought to myself, and forced my smile to remain on my face as I wondered why I’d pictured Knox Alexander when I’d accepted Collin’s marriage proposal three hours before.

  Collin turned from where he was fixing his tie in the mirror and raised a dirty-blond brow. “You don’t want to wear your ring?” he asked quietly; calmly.

  My eyes widened, and I stumbled over my words as I tried to explain. “No, of course I do! I just didn’t know if I should when we’re going to your parents’ dinner party. I mean, it’s for the governor, and I didn’t know when or how you wanted to announce to them that we were engaged. And now I’m worried that we’ll steal the focus if someone sees the ring, because it’s really hard to miss . . . so I just don’t know what to do.”

  Collin smiled before pressing his lips to mine. “My parents already know. I promise it will be fine.”

  I blinked quickly in surprise. “They know?” It wasn’t like I expected the screams of excitement that had poured through the phone from my family, but I would’ve thought the Dohertys would have said something when we’d shown up at their house earlier to get ready for the party.

  “Of course they do; they’re excited.” Collin’s eyes studied my face, then fell quickly over my ears, throat, and finally my left hand. Every place on my body that had jewelry from him. His eyes stayed on my hand when he asked, “Do you like it?”

  “My ring?” I sputtered. Is he serious? I thought to myself. I glanced down to the five-carat, emerald-cut, Classic Winston, and giggled. “Collin, I love my ring. As always, it is way too much, but I love it.”

  “Then that’s all I need to know—and no, you’re not taking it off for the party.” Glancing at his phone, he said, “We do need to go, though, or my parents will wonder why we aren’t down there.”

  “Okay.” I blew out a hard breath, and looked at myself in the mirror one last time before following Collin out of his bedroom at his parents’ house, and down the stairs.

  I was introduced to dozens of couples—some of them I would never remember; others left me forcing myself not to gawk, as celebrities were introduced like it was an everyday occurrence to see them.

  “Do you know who that was?” I hissed in Collin’s ear when we stepped away from the actor and his supermodel wife.

  Collin’s brow furrowed, like he didn’t understand why I was about to hyperventilate. “Yes? Ah! There are my parents.”

  Nothing. No reaction. This is his life—my life now . . . and it is so amazing! How does he not find this amazing? I wondered, but put those thoughts to rest when I looked around his parents’ house. I knew his family had money, but it was obvious some of their money came from something long before his father’s job, because there was no way a prosecutor could have a house like this. Just like there was no way his son could buy me the things he did.

  “Collin, Harlow, so glad you could join us.” Mrs. Doherty said, and kissed my cheek. “These are some of Flynn’s colleagues,” she whispered, then straightened with a perfect smile on her face. “Gentlemen, you remember our son. This is his fiancée, Harlow.”

  A few nods and nice-to-meet-yous were thrown out, but other than that, it was if we hadn’t just come into the conversation. As if Mrs. Doherty hadn’t just announced so casually that we were engaged.

  Just like that, I was brought into the family. I’d been worried it would be harder—like I would have to prove myself. Instead, it was anticlimactic—almost a letdown. The conversation that had been taking place continued, and Collin kept his arm around me as he threw himself into it. I tried to do the same.

  Five minutes later I was still attempting to understand what was happening—or happened. All I understood so far was that the men were all talking about an old case.

  “Still can’t believe the bastard got away with first-degree murder,” one of the men said, and the others all shook their heads and voiced their displeasure.

  “Should’ve been capital murder,” Flynn Doherty added.

  “What’s the difference?” I asked quietly, and regretted it when a few men laughed, and every pair of eyes in the small group focused on me.

  Collin laughed softly and mumbled, “Excuse us for a few minutes. I haven’t had much alone time with my new fiancée.” His hand gripped mine as he practically tugged me across the floor to a corner that wasn’t as busy.

  “I can’t walk that fast in these—”

  He turned so his face was directly in front of mine, and though his mouth was curved up in a smile, there was something different about it. About him. “Are you fucking kidding me, Harlow?” he hissed.

  My eyebrows rose in confusion. “Wait, wha—” My question was cut off when Collin released my hand, only for two of his fingers to dig into a spot on my wrist. The pain was instant and surprising. My mouth popped back open, whether to let out a cry of pain or demand why he was doing this, I didn’t know—but it didn’t matter, he spoke before I could.

  “Do not show your pain, Harlow.”

  “What?” I asked breathlessly, and gave him a panicked look. “Co—”

  “Do not show your pain,” he repeated. His tone was soft, his face still carefully composed. If I weren’t the one on the receiving end of the pain, I would’ve been so sure we were flirting instead, from the look he was giving me. “You know how stupid you are, don’t you?”

  Stupid? I thought lamely. The question would have frustrated me if I weren’t trying to keep a straight face while simultaneously wondering how two fingers could cause so much pain. “Wh—”

  “You will never embarrass me in front of anyone like that again, and especially not my father or his colleagues. Do you understand?” Collin leaned close and brushed his lips across my neck to whisper, “Do not say another word for the rest of the night.” The words were emphasized by a relief so great it almost felt like the pain had worsened for a split second when he released my wrist. It was clear his words weren’t just a demand—they were a warning.

  I never once would have considered myself stupid before . . . but now I wasn’t sure if I was for obeying his demand the way I did for the rest of the night.

  I smiled pleasantly—well, I hoped it looked pleasant—stayed by Collin’s side as we flitted from group to group, and never stopped studying him as he charmed everyone he spoke to.

  I wanted to know what had happened. I wanted to know who the man was who had talked down to me and hurt me, because it wasn’t the man I’d fallen in love with. And I wanted to know why each touch and caress throughout the rest of the night felt like something so similar—but somehow foreign now.

  “Come here, Harlow,” Collin murmured softly hours later when we finally made it back upstairs to his bedroom.

  I stood a dozen feet away from him, staring at the floor as tears pooled in my eyes
.

  “You looked so incredible tonight,” he said when he was behind me. His fingers trailed down my bare arms, and he wrapped one arm around my stomach to pull my body close to his.

  “I don’t understand,” I choked out, and immediately wondered if I was allowed to speak now.

  Collin turned me so I was facing him, and used his thumbs to gently brush away the few tears that had fallen. “All you need to understand is that I love you.”

  My head shook. “No, that’s—you hurt me.”

  His blue eyes flashed with something I’ve never seen before, but it was gone just as quickly. He gently gripped my fingers to bring my hand close to his face and whispered, “I’m sorry,” before he placed soft kisses along my palm and the now-sensitive spot on my wrist. “I lost control of myself for a second, Harlow, that’s all,” Collin said as he straightened my engagement ring.

  “Collin,” I began hesitantly, but didn’t continue. I thought about what was going on in our lives right now, and knew he was under a lot of stress finishing his senior year and graduating from college in a month. I knew he was worried about getting a respectable job, and figured he might have been right. Maybe I had embarrassed him in front of those men—the same men he might or might not work with after graduation.

  Because I’d been trying so hard to understand the conversation earlier, I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to. Or maybe I wasn’t supposed to say anything—I hadn’t heard Collin’s mom offer anything to the conversation other than introducing us. Could those conversations be only for the men? Something the women pretend not to hear? And now that hours had passed, I couldn’t remember if I had said something I should’ve been embarrassed about.

  With the way Collin’s mouth was ghosting across my collarbone and playing with the zipper of my dress, I also wasn’t sure if I’d over-dramatized the whole thing with him earlier. Had it actually hurt? Had he meant it to hurt? He’d never touched me in any way other than the way he was now. Like I was precious . . . like I was his everything.

  “We’ll go buy you something tomorrow,” he promised just before his lips brushed my own. “Whatever you want.”