Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Starling

I keep my mouth shut and my head down. If I blend in with the shadows, then hopefully people will forget I'm here.

I've never felt so out of place, and that's saying something coming from someone who's never really fit in. I don't know or recognize a single person here, and none of them have introduced themselves or offered their condolences. If I didn't know better, I'd think they came for the free food. I stare at the glass of water in my hand, wondering if I could sneak outside without anyone noticing. But that's wishful thinking, especially with how many eyes I feel on me.

Maybe I'm paranoid. Or maybe I'm not. All I know is that I can't wait to get out of this place and out of this fucking dress.

It seems especially cruel to be forced to wear something that belonged to the woman we just said goodbye to. Still, Landon insisted, and I know better than to argue. I might not be the smartest person in the room, but I know how to make myself less of a target. If that means doing shit I don't like, like wearing a dead woman's dress, then so be it.

"You okay?"

I look at Abbot, who watches me with worried eyes. I could laugh at the stupid question, but I don't. I mean, how can I be okay? How can either of us be? But that's not what you're supposed to say in situations like these, right? So I nod, offer him a small smile, and keep my mouth shut.

That's what I'm supposed to do, right?

Only nobody's ever told me what I'm supposed to do or feel in these situations. Is there a right and a wrong way to act? She wasn't my mom, but for a little while, she was the closest thing I ever had to one.

"Come on, let's get something to eat," Abbot says quietly.

"I'm not hungry."

"Maybe not, but you still have to eat. And you haven't had anything all day."

I grit my teeth and stand, giving in and taking his hand when he offers it to me. I remind myself that he's only trying to help. He doesn't deserve my anger. His mom's gone, and instead of being a shoulder for him to lean on, he's been the one supporting me.

"I'm sorry, Abbot," I whisper, and he pulls me in for a hug and presses his lips to my forehead.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for. You loved her as much as she loved you."

I nod against his chest, unable to say the words out loud. Loving people has become my curse. The second I admit it, they turn away from me. I don't know what I did in a past life that was so bad, but there must be something toxic in me that taints everything and everyone I touch.

"Come on, while it's quiet."

He leads me to the table at the far end of the room and picks up a plate, placing a few sandwiches and a variety of tiny desserts on it. He hands it to me before fixing a plate for himself.

"You want to sit outside for a little while and get some air?"

I nod, and this time, my smile is genuine.

He leads me out the back door, down to the pretty garden attached to the rented room. I take a deep breath, and my nerves begin to settle.

"Better?"

"Much, thanks. It's just a lot."

"And it doesn't help that they're strangers." He sighs, knowing I struggle with anxiety in social situations.

"They're strangers to you too," I point out.

He offers me a tired smile and nudges my elbow with his to start eating. I find a spot on the grass and sit, crossing my legs in front of me. Abbot drops down beside me and starts eating. I nibble on the food on my plate as I think about all the changes in my life.

Abbot finishes eating before I do, placing his empty plate on the grass beside him, and steals a cookie from my plate.

"So, your dad?" I venture cautiously.

His face gets tight like it always does when his father's mentioned. Both the Peters brothers have a temper, though Abbot tends to hold everything in until it explodes. The one thing that usually sets him off, though, is me. I can't even count the times he's used his fist to shut someone up who was talking shit about me.

It's one of the reasons I keep to myself. Now, it seems his father sets him off just as fast as I do, only for very different reasons.

"He's my sperm donor, nothing else. He hasn't been my dad for the seventeen years I've been alive. He sure as fuck doesn't get to waltz in and be one now."

I take a bite of my sandwich. No matter what Landon and Abbot say, I'm grateful to the mystery man for agreeing to take me in. I'm honestly surprised that he did. I'm a stranger. Not just that, but a burden. Despite that, he's giving me a chance. I'll make sure I'm the best damn house guest he's ever had.

"Hey, it was nice of him to let us stay. He could have said no."

"Maybe he should have. Then Landon would have had no choice but to take us in."

I look away, not wanting him to see my reaction. The last thing I would have wanted to do was move hours away from home and transfer to a different school when I was so close to being done.

"We're seventeen, Abbot. It's only for a little while, and then we can get our own place."

He grunts.

"I'm sorry. I know you hate him, but it could be worse."

"Oh yeah, and what's worse than a deadbeat dad?" He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and I roll my eyes.

"I'm—"

"It's fine." I wave him off, not needing his apology.

We sit in silence after that, listening to the birds and letting the early afternoon sun wash over us. I take a few more bites of food, enjoying the peace. After a few minutes, I hear voices and turn to see people filtering outside, probably wanting to take advantage of the sun. But that doesn't stop the feeling of their pitying looks and silent judgments pressing in on me.

Taking a breath, I place my still half-full plate on the ground and get to my feet, brushing the grass from my dress. "I'm going to wander around the garden a little."

"Want me to come?"

"No, stay. I won't go far."

Abbot nods and leans back, closing his eyes. I hurry away before he changes his mind and decides to join me. I just need a moment alone.

I pass a few people without looking at them. They don't say anything, but I sense their stares. When I'm sure I'm out of sight, I take another deep breath and rub my hands up and down my arms, trying to inject some warmth. It isn't cold out. It's actually unseasonably mild, but I've felt nothing but cold for days.

I take in the flowers. The shock of color on such a sad day feels fitting for the woman who was a giant contradiction. I'm not na?ve. I know she was deeply flawed, and as much as she'll always have a piece of my heart, I can't deny that part of me is still angry at her.

Her relationship with Abbot was heartbreaking to watch when all he wanted was her approval. She was so blinded by what she thought that she failed to see that the angry man who butted heads with her was still the sweet boy who loved her unconditionally.

I wander aimlessly around the property until I reach a lake. It's one of those perfect days when the air is still and the water is calm, where not a ripple disturbs the glass-like surface, reflecting the light and hiding its darkness in its depths. And if that's not a metaphor for my life, I don't know what is. My English teacher would be so proud.

I close my eyes, tip my head back, and let the tranquility of the place wash over me.

I don't know how long I stand there, but I feel some of the tension leave my body—that is, until I hear a twig snap behind me. I whirl around, my hand flying to my heart, which is threatening to beat right out of my chest.

I swallow when I see a man standing a few feet away from me, watching me. I fight the urge to back up. He's not coming across as aggressive, but there's something about him that sets off warning bells in my brain.

"You okay?" His deep voice makes goosebumps break out all over my skin.

"I'm fine, thank you. I should head back." I move to walk around him, keeping my distance when he starts toward me.

For a moment, fear paralyzes me. It's always like this. I've read so many books where the female characters are always so strong and fierce. Faced with a situation like this, they'd kick the guy in the balls or pull a gun like some kind of badass, leaving him begging for mercy. But I'm not that girl. I've wished I was a million times, but where fear triggers a fight-or-flight response in most people, it causes my body to shut down. My terror locks me in place even as I scream at myself to run, and I hate myself for it. I hate feeling weak and small. I hate being scared, and yet I can't stop my responses.

The man's face morphs from curious to worried. "You're white as a fucking ghost."

He's touching me now. His hand on my elbow is gentle, yet it might as well be a vice. A tiny whimper escapes my lips. My frustration has tears slipping free, which makes the man curse.

He scoops me up into his arms and then sits down with me in his lap. "Alright, birdie. I'm going to need you to calm the fuck down for me. I want you to copy my breathing, okay?" He inhales deeply and holds it for a moment before releasing it.

Without thought, I do as he says and mimic his actions, my mind stuck on what he called me. Birdie?

"That's it. Good girl."

I jolt at his words, my body and brain coming back online as humiliation threatens to choke me.

"Nope, don't panic now. You're doing so good. Just keep breathing. In and out. That's it."

His hand moves to my throat, making me freeze until I realize his fingertips are resting on my pulse.

"Feels like wings fluttering. I guess that's fitting, huh, birdie?"

"I'm Starling," I gasp, wondering if I should start screaming.

"I know. People call me Pete."

Pete? I rack my brain, but I don't know anyone by that name.

"But you can call me Hudson."

I whip my head up to look at him, feeling my cheeks flush with another bout of embarrassment. "You're Abbot's dad?"

He nods, his eyes moving over my face. I stay still, feeling like prey caught in a trap.

There's something captivating about the man. I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing about this man that isn't terrifying, and I wish Abbot had warned me. In my head, I had placed him into the deadbeat dad category. But that, I fear, is only the tip of the iceberg.

"So you're the stepsister?"

I swallow and nod, wondering if I'm strong enough to crawl out of his lap so I can find a hole somewhere to fall into.

"Landon told you that you'll be staying with me?"

Again, I nod, biting my lip so I don't blurt out something stupid.

"You're a quiet one, aren't you? Yeah, I think Birdie will work just fine."

He chuckles when I still don't say anything, the sound warm and rich and oddly comforting.

"You okay now? I'm sure Abbot's looking for you."

I get to my knees and crawl away, ignoring the hiss from behind me as I scramble to my feet. By the time I'm ready to face him, he's already standing. This time, his eyes move over my whole body, taking me in inch by inch. This gaze feels like a touch, as if I can feel it skating over my skin, making my blood throb in my veins.

Forget warning bells. This man is a walking, talking public safety announcement.

Warning. Danger ahead. Turn back.

If only life were that simple.

"Landon said it's your birthday soon. You'll be eighteen?"

I walk back toward where I left Abbot, Hudson following beside me. He's not touching me, but he's far closer than I like.

"Yes. On the twenty-seventh."

"That's good," he mumbles. He might be waiting for me to turn eighteen so he can kick me out without feeling bad because the CPS won't care what happens to me then. He doesn't need to worry. I have a plan. But that doesn't mean that getting tossed out on my ass doesn't scare the hell out of me.

"I'll get a job and pay you rent. I'll help out around the house and do the cooking. Anything you want as a thank you for letting me stay," I rush to say. My worry about being kicked out erases my fear of overstepping.

"Anything?" he says, his fingertips brushing against my arm. "Be careful, Birdie. I might just take you up on that." He smirks before walking ahead.

This time, I'm the one who reaches up to check my pulse. I must be dead, right? Because none of what just happened could be real.

But if I'm dead, it begs the question: does finding myself in Hudson's sights mean I made it to heaven? Or am I in hell?