Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Starling

I walk out, surprised my legs are still holding me up.

I wipe away my tears and make my way outside, ignoring the rain as I fight the urge to start running and not stop until my feet are raw and bloody.

Somehow, I find myself under the cherry blossom tree. I sit beneath it and try to feel Eloise's arms around me. I had no idea what a mother's love felt like until Eloise came along and opened her heart to me. She loved me harder than I'd ever been loved before. And in return, I loved her back more than she deserved.

She was flawed in so many ways, teaching me that no one is just one thing. Kind people can be cruel, mean people can feel empathy, and honest people can lie to save themselves. Nobody is all good or all bad. I know this. I've lived it. And since Hudson came into my life, I've been reminding myself daily.

But right now, as the rain pours down on me, I'm finding it really fucking hard to remember why I don't just take his gun while he's sleeping and put a bullet in his brain. I'd be saving us all in the long run.

I pull my knees to my chest, ignoring the rumble in my stomach. The thought of eating anything makes me want to puke.

"I'm so mad at you," I whisper, wondering if there's a part of her still here, listening. "I love you, but I can't forgive you. I hate you, but I can't forget you. You condemned him but saved me, and now I'm right back where I started."

I angrily swipe at my tears. With the rain coming down, I'm soaking wet, so it doesn't make much difference. Leaning my head back against the trunk, I look up, hoping to see stars, but all I see are storm clouds. Doesn't that just figure?

Maybe I should leave now. I could find my way out of this place before the smoke catches fire and everything turns to ash. Maybe without me here, father and son can find common ground. Like hating me.

My heart breaks, but what's one more crack?

I think of my past, something I don't let myself do much anymore because it leads me down a dark path to razor blades and empty pill bottles. I reach between my legs and feel the tiny, raised scars on my inner thigh. I don't know if Hudson has noticed them or not, but he's never mentioned them, and for that, at least, I'm grateful.

It's been a while since Eloise found me on her bathroom floor after I cut too deep and needed stitches. I had scared her so much that she'd made me promise that I would never cut myself again. It had been the easiest promise I'd ever made because the fear on her face was real. In that moment, my pain was hers, and hers was mine.

She saw me. She knew I was bleeding on the inside, far worse than I was on the outside. But nobody could mend my heart. Nobody could restore my innocence or stop the flow from the knife in my back. But she understood. She could carry my burden for a little while so I could rest and build my strength enough to carry it alone. Because we knew. We always knew that one day I'd be alone again.

As I run my fingers over the scars, I hear the whisper in the back of my head, urging and coaxing me that it won't matter just this once. It will calm all this chaos inside me.

I dig my nails into my skin and block out the whisper.

Cutting was about control, and I had none in any other aspect of my life. And yeah, as the razor grew slick and my skin grew damp, I would feel relief. But it was as fleeting as shooting something into my veins. The highs were never worth the lows because I always fell further than I could climb.

Now, the control comes from resisting temptation, in my unwillingness to break a dead woman's heart by breaking a promise. I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my head against my knees. My body shakes from the cold, but I'm not ready to go inside yet. I need to build a wall around myself, or a force-field that will protect me from Hudson's relentless attacks, and right now, I don't feel strong enough.

Sometimes you need to allow yourself to break, to let yourself be weak when there's no one around to see you fall apart and use your pain against you. Nobody tells you how hard it is to be strong all the time or how mentally exhausting it is to just be okay.

So, I let myself cry. I let myself fall to pieces. I give myself grace because life is hard, and I'm just trying to survive it.

I must cry myself to sleep because the next thing I know, strong arms are scooping me up and holding me tightly as they carry me inside. I close my eyes and grip their T-shirt, my body wracked with shivers.

"I've got you, Starling. Hold on," Abbot's voice murmurs against the top of my head.

I hold him tighter, even though I can already feel him slipping away. He carries me upstairs and sits me on the end of the bed before he heads into the bathroom. I hear the faucet turn on and the water filling the tub. The sound of something falling and Abbot cursing makes me jump, but I stay where I am until he comes back.

That's when I lift my head and realize we're in Hudson's bedroom.

"N…no. We sh…shouldn't be here," I manage to get out.

Abbot crouches down in front of me and wraps his hands around my cold calves. "He's not here. He got a call and left. Neither of our rooms have tubs, and I need to get you warm, Starling, and this is the quickest way," he tells me softly. "Can you stand?"

I nod, even though I'm not sure. He helps me to my feet, but when I sway, he curses and holds me to him. After a moment, he begins to undress me, working my T-shirt up over my head. He unfastens my bra and tosses it to the floor before hooking his fingers in my shorts and sliding both them and my panties down. Once I've stepped out of them, he lifts me up into his arms and carries me into the bathroom, where he gently lowers me into the warm water.

I gasp at the sensation of pins and needles stabbing me as my cold skin comes into contact with the heat. He holds me tightly, his arms around my shoulders, his cheek pressed to the top of my head, until I settle.

Once he feels me relax, he lets go of me and strips out of his own wet clothes, revealing a multitude of bruises before he climbs in behind me. I lean back into his chest, being careful not to put too much weight on him in case I hurt him. He sighs and holds me tighter.

We lie in silence, holding each other, while it feels like the world around us is falling apart.

His rough voice breaks the silence as his fingers trail up my arm. "Mark broke up with me."

I turn my head and look up at him. "He did this?" I ask quietly, reaching up to gently run my fingers over his cheek.

He shakes his head. "No. I was mad," he forces his words out. "I went out to blow off steam and got jumped." I know there's more to it, but I don't push him. I wait.

"He's been out of the closet for eighteen months. He doesn't want to be shoved back into one because of me. Says I make him feel like a dirty secret." His voice cracks.

I slide my fingers through his and squeeze them.

"His parents were supportive. His sister said she knew he was camper than a row of pink tents and loved him because of it. She then threw him a unicorn-themed sleepover."

"Camper?"

"She lives in the UK; I think it's a British saying."

I smile, wondering what it would be like to have siblings like that love unconditionally like that. "I'm glad he had that. Did you tell him it was way different for you?"

He blows out a breath. "Yeah. He said I couldn't let people's perceptions of me stop me from living the life I deserve. He's a fucking rainbow, and I'm a?—"

"Storm cloud," I finish for him. "He's right, though. You do deserve better, but he doesn't get to tell you how to deal with your trauma or when."

He's quiet for a few minutes, thinking it over.

"He wanted to go public, but… I can't, Starling."

I turn and kneel in front of him so I can gently cup his face. "You can't live your life pretending to be something you're not to make everyone else happy, Abbot. Newsflash: Nobody's happy. Everyone's messed up in one way or another. I'm sorry Eloise said what she did to you. I'm sorry she made you feel like you were worthless because you like dick as much as I do." I smile, making him snort.

"You believed everything she said about you. She judged you, and you let that judgment define you. But look at who she married." I roll my eyes. "If your mom had been gay, she would have saved us all from her god-awful taste in men. Maybe that was part of her issue. She was jealous. She couldn't bear for you to find a man who'd make you happy. Something she failed to find for herself repeatedly. It was fucked-up, but it was her fuck-up, not yours."

I lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips.

"She was the one that needed fixing, not you, Abbot. She was so busy looking for a good man that she failed to notice she already had one in you. Don't let the last couple years rewrite all the good ones you had with her."

He kisses me, and I let him even as Hudson's words ring in my head.

When I pull back, he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear and sighs. "It's not just her. You know what it's like at school better than anyone."

"And yet, here I am. If I can handle it, so can you. I'll have your back always."

I turn around and sit back down and close my eyes while he plays with my hair.

"I went to Railed. Some guys jumped me when I was heading back to my car. They called me a fag and started beating the shit out of me. I fought back, but there were three of them, and all of them were my size."

"People suck. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I recognized one of them," he whispers.

I sit up and turn to look at him.

"His name's Lewis. He was on the varsity team last year. I don't think he recognized me, though. Thank fuck."

"I've been with you to Railed. There's nothing around there for miles."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I go there."

"Then what were they doing there?" I ask.

He frowns at that.

"Maybe they were projecting because they feel the same way about themselves as you do. That doesn't make it okay…" I let my words trail off as a worried look fills his eyes.

"That's what I'll turn out to be like, hating everyone and everything that reminds me of me."

"Please, I'll kick your ass before I let that happen. You only have a few months left of high school. Who cares what anyone thinks anymore? They already think you're crazy for dating me. If anything, they'll think you're a king for leaving me for some hottie. Hell, they'll probably blame me for turning you gay." I shrug with a grin, though there is some truth to that.

"No matter what happens, you'll always be my girl. You know that, right?"

I blink back tears. "I really hope that's true."

"Wanna tell me why you were outside crying in the rain like a crazy chick?"

"Not really."

"Does it have anything to do with the hickey on your neck?" he asks quietly.

My hand flies to my neck, horror seeping into my bones. I can't believe I forgot.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Calm down. I'm not mad. How can I be? I was with someone else until a few hours ago. You didn't cheat, Starling. I was never really yours," he says softly, his words stinging, even though he's trying not to hurt me.

"I know, but I was always yours. I never… there's only been you since that day in the treehouse when you told me your secret. You were trying to figure out who you were. I wanted to be there for you, not hold you back. I don't think either of us expected to end up in this… whatever this is between us."

"But we knew there would be an expiration date."

I bite my lip, using the pain to keep my emotions in check. "Is that date now?"

He doesn't say anything. Instead, he presses his mouth to mine and kisses me again. I lose myself in him until he breaks the kiss and climbs out, picking me up and carrying me with him.

He walks us down to our room, his mouth on mine, neither of us caring about anything else. He tosses me on the bed and follows me down, kissing every inch of me, like he's trying to tattoo an imprint of his lips on my skin. When he eases himself inside me, he wraps his hands around my wrists and holds my hands above my head as he begins to move.

I know I'll have bruises from his tight grip, but I can't find it in me to care.

His eyes don't leave mine, not when my tears run down my face, not when his drip onto my heated skin. We hold on to each other, etching our love into our last goodbye. We come together and hold on to each other, scared to let go.

It isn't until I know he's asleep that I slip out of the bed. The bed that's his now, not mine.

I wasn't kidding when I told Hudson I'd given Abbot pieces of my heart. He earned them, and I refuse to take them back, even if this is the end of us.

I look down at him, knowing I need to leave, but my feet won't move. The second I step outside that door, everything will change again, and I'm not sure I'm ready. So much has happened in such a period of time that I can barely process one thing before another hits.

My one constant was Abbot. He's always been my anchor. Without him by my side, I'm scared I'll just drift away.

I press my hand to my chest, willing myself to hold it together. This is for the best. I know it deep down, but it doesn't lessen the pain.

Abbot is the best man I know, but he was never mine to keep. Borrowing a heart hurts so much more than stealing one, because eventually, you have to give it back.

I take the throw from the bottom of the bed and wrap it around myself, feeling the cold from earlier seeping back in. Tears stream down my face as I walk to the door and rest my hand on the knob. I don't look back. If I do, it will be my downfall.

I turn the handle and step out into the hallway, closing the door on all we could have been. I wish we meant less to each other, and at the same time, I wish we meant more. I swallow down my sob. Each step away from us makes it that much harder to breathe.

By the time I get to my room, just a few feet away, I'm gasping and choking on my tears. I open my door, needing somewhere I can fall apart without being disturbed. As I step inside, I realize my mistake.

I smell him before I see him—that exotic aftershave he wears that costs more than my phone. He wraps his hand around my throat, pulls me into the room, and pins me to the wall. His anger is so palpable, it's suffocating.

"Hello, Birdie."