2. Reed

Chapter two

Reed

Anxiety lives constantly on my skin, like the scratchy belly of a lizard crawling all over me. I never fully shake it, but the view of downtown Portland is peaceful, and the uncomfortable shifting slows. The overcast sky creates a diffused glow over the city. ist rises in wisps off the river, and patches of fog cast the largest buildings in an eerie veil. I’ve seen something similar, but with the rust-tinge of smoke in the air.

But that was in Los Angeles, and I wouldn’t go back there for a million dollars.

Portland is full of possibilities. Despite a week of exploring the city, I constantly discover something new, and today it’s this incredible view. I swipe through photos I’ve taken the past few days, wishing I could post them on my social media. I’ve cleared my friends list several times over, but I’m still too paranoid to try it.

All of western Oregon is green, wet, and beautiful, but I’ve been here too long already. Staying in one place means that it’s easier for Kinley to find me.

I sip my coffee, clinging to the almost-serenity of the moment. My hotel room is filled with pleasant, dark wood tones and a deep, muted green accent wall. It’s a relaxing atmosphere, and the bed is surprisingly comfortable. Even the restricted access and location on the fourteenth floor should add to my peace.

But the touch of Kinley’s body against mine creeps out from my memory, and imaginary centipedes follow the paths her hands once took. A shiver ripples down my spine. I want her out of my head. I want to enjoy myself without worrying that she’s following my trail. But I can’t.

There’s a high-pitched buzz in my ears before everything is muffled. It’s not external—it’s the start of a panic attack. In a desperate bid to ward it off, I call my sister.

“Reed! How’s it going?” Amanda’s smile is evident through the phone. It’s familiar, warm, and it clears the cotton from my ears. “How was Yellowstone?”

“Gorgeous,” I croak out. I hope I sound like I have my act together. “I spent three days there, but I barely scratched the surface. I want to go back for longer sometime.”

“Count me out for that. Camping is my nightmare version of a family vacation.”

“I’ll reserve a site for you for Memorial Day,” I joke, settling into the stiff leather armchair. I need the normalcy of our sibling relationship right now, and am willing to force it if need be.

“Don’t you dare,” she growls.

“Too late. I’m booking it right now.”

“Reed,” she warns. “Hey, speaking of booking it, are you almost ready to come home? She hasn’t come around. I think it’s safe now.”

Normal lasted all of one minute. I hate that Amanda won’t let it go. No matter where I go or who I’m with, Kinley is my monster. She lurks in all my shadows to catch me while I’m sleeping.

“I’m going to drive down the coast to see the elephant seals,” I say, hoping to avoid the argument that’s been nonstop since I decided to sell the house.

“There’s a place two streets over from Mom that—”

“I’m not moving back.”

Kinley will always look for me there, and it frustrates the hell out of me that Amanda ignores that just to keep me close. Amanda married Ethan shortly after high school and made a good life for herself in our tiny hometown near Coralville, Iowa. She’s settled there, and that’s great .

But I moved to California chasing a dream. I wanted to write screenplays for movies that would make people experience something profound. Then, to make ends meet, I created Daddy Knight Productions and surrounded myself with those who embraced my brand. Rural Iowa wasn’t exactly progressive enough to accept my empire built in erotic audio.

Now I want to burn DKP to the ground, and I can’t stay in one place for more than a week. Where am I supposed to go from here?

“How are you? Any episodes?” Amanda switches topics, and I’m grateful.

“I’m fine.” It’s a lie. Not even a convincing lie. If I was fine, I wouldn’t have imaginary beetle legs scraping over my skin whenever I lack a distraction. “What did you watch on TV last night? What tabloid gossip popped up on your feed?”

Amanda sighs. “You need to talk about it.”

“Christ, Amanda, let it be.” Before, I was cool and fun. Now I’m a bundle of nerves wrapped up in bitterness. “Rehashing the past does nothing except dredge up memories I’d rather leave behind.”

“Please come home.” Amanda’s voice cracks. “You’re safe with us. I hate not having you near.”

I thought I’d feel better after we went to trial and Kinley’s incarceration was permanent. But that’s not happening. No trial. No prison. No justice. The judicial system made it clear that it’s my job to keep myself and my family safe. Rage burns deep inside me, laid over with a bleak, sucking darkness. “She’s already found me there once. She knows how much I love you.”

Amanda can’t argue with that. “Reed, don’t let her take away your family—your future. The restraining order might not help, but the more Kinley violates it, the more evidence—”

My anger sits a constant simmer, but Kinley’s name has it boiling to the surface. “I had plenty of evidence, and where did that get me? We both know that evidence means fuck all!”

“I know!” she snaps back .

I take a beat to compose myself. “DKP has enough to tide me over for a while longer and then I’ll do…something. I’m figuring it out.”

“I want to help you,” she says. Her words settle some of the hurt inside me. A reminder that I can count on her. Trust her.

“I know. We’ll talk later, okay? Love you.” I barely wait for her to say it back. I hang up the phone, rubbing my temples in hopes it will ward off the headache building there. Any serenity from this morning is ripped to tattered pieces.

I flop onto the bed and flick on the TV in hopes of a better distraction than Amanda was. Voices roll over me—with a laugh track that’s both annoying and comforting—as I scroll through my phone.

I block messages on my socials, and ignore four calls from unknown numbers. My emails are full of job listings for commercial voiceovers and one for an audiobook. I haven’t explored that avenue, but I flag it for later. There are also several emails from my lawyer, all of which I ignore.

A sound notifies me that each of my missed calls is accompanied by a voicemail. I tap the first one and Kinley’s voice grates from the speaker. “Reed, pooki —”

Delete.

“I know you’re mad, but—”

Delete.

“Answer the phone! Fuck you, motherf—”

Delete.

“ Daddy , I didn’t mean all that. I miss you—”

Delete.

I’ve changed numbers twice, but nothing keeps her away. I want her out of my head. Uprooting my life, listing my house, finding a new one, and Kinley—it’s too much stress to handle. Hurt and anger bunch under my skin, and I roll my shoulders back to release some of the knots. The movement causes the black ink along my forearm to shift, grabbing my attention. It’s stark, even against my tan skin .

Bile crawls up the back of my throat. As if summoned, my phone vibrates, and unknown number scrawls across the screen. I answer, my pulse frantic. “ Jesus Christ , just stop!”

“Wait—” Kinley says.

I don’t. I hang up and strip off my clothes. It makes no logical sense, but the ghosts of Kinley’s hands linger as though they’re burned into my skin. My phone rings until I shut it off and jump into the shower. I lather the soap in my hands, digging in with my nails, wishing I could scrub her away.

The churning in my stomach subsides as the water sluices over me, hot and loud, overwhelming my senses and bringing me back to the present. My name is Reed Alexander. I’m in a hotel room in Portland. No one knows where I am except Amanda.

When I step out, the panic has subsided enough to let other signals through. I need to drink water, eat a real meal, and get the hell out of here. The caves along the Oregon coast are calling my name. Unlike people, the elephant seals are a distraction that won’t demand anything in return.