Chapter 14

Hawke

I open my eyes, instantly at ease in the windowless room. I love sleeping here. It’s cold and dark, and I never feel guilty about sleeping late because I can’t tell if the sun’s out or not.

The scent of the old furniture fills my room, and I reach over, switching on my lamp.

“Mmmm.” I hear a sweet, little whimper next to me.

A jolt hits my heart, and I jerk my head, seeing Aro. I forgot she was here.

That’s weird. I usually wake a couple times every night, but I slept straight through. I fall back to the bed, relaxing as she sinks back into her slumber, barely shifting with the soft light in the room now.

She’s kinda cute. When she’s quiet.

Her black lashes drape under her eyes, her skin smooth and her lips full and cherry, like candy. Her feet hug each other, and she’s balled up like she’s cold. I sit up, reaching down and pulling the blanket I never need over her body. In a minute she’ll be awake, mocking me, fighting me over something that doesn’t need to be an argument, or making my head hurt.

For now, I can enjoy the sound of her small breaths. I’ve never slept in the same bed with anyone before.

One of her hands lays on top of the other, the pillow tucked tightly under her head, and a need washes over me to see her sleep for as long as she wants. To not have to get up and worry or work. I’d like to watch her play a video game or play with a dog or ride shotgun on the rare occasion I race. She’d love that.

And that’s why you watch, she’d said.

Last night comes flooding back, and I whip off the sheet, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I rub the back of my neck.

Why the hell did I tell her all that? Goddammit.

She woke me out of a dead sleep. I wasn’t thinking straight.

She must think I’m fucking crazy.

She didn’t act like it, though. It was nice to talk to someone. No one around me is very easy to talk to—not about sex. Madoc just gives me tips on her erogenous zones, my dad says there’s nothing wrong with waiting, and Jared has panic attacks when anything uncomfortable comes up.

I thought about talking to a woman, but it’s embarrassing. Pretty sure Dylan and Quinn are still virgins, and the others raised me, so no.

I liked finally getting it out, and she’s probably right. There are other things we can do first. Things that will help me get attached to someone and need more.

“You move too much at night, Pirate,” Aro says, and I hear her yawn behind me.

I rip my phone off the charger, seeing it’s after ten in the morning. “And you have your own bed, Rebel,” I grumble. I move to get up, but I’m swelled and poking through my goddamn pants. I sit back down. Christ. I rest my elbows on my knees, pretending to check my phone.

The bed bounces under me, and I struggle to hide myself as she jumps to the floor. “I’ll make coffee,” she announces. “You check the camera.”

Thankfully she leaves, every curve of her ass pronounced like a second skin in Dylan’s jeans. My cock twitches. “Shit.”

I rise, grabbing my towel and heading for the shower. If she sees me with another boner, she’ll start thinking they’re because of her.

I wash, taking a minute to cool down and get my head straight again. I told her some stuff last night, and she was kind of cool about it.

Friends can talk to each other. I’m not trying to date her. Or get her into bed. I don’t care if she’s impressed or thinks I’m weak, so it’s easy. No pressure.

I certainly know her problems. Maybe confiding in each other just builds trust. That’s a good thing.

I dress, grab some coffee, and check surveillance on the garage, while she takes her turn in the shower. I glance back at her as she heads down the hallway, remembering her grabbing the underwear and bras from Dylan like they were top secret. God only knows what that troublemaker bought her.

“Supposed to be packing for college,” Schuyler says on her video as I scan social media. “But the incoming seniors need a little help.”

And then the theme to Rocky starts playing as she plucks packages of streamers, balloons, and party masks and throws them into her cart.

The senior party. A beginning-of-the-year celebration hosted by the captain of the football team, which is Kade.

But he has no interest in doing the planning, so he usually pawns it off on some girl or, like last year, the entire cheerleading squad. I guess Schuyler is helping him this time.

Aro’s words from last night come back to mind. She’s just as nervous as you are. She just wants to know she’s wanted.

I look at the date on the video. Last night. I check her Instagram.

The water. The lake. It flows through our veins, and there’s nothing we can do about it… It’s like venom. – Karen Katchur

And there’s a selfie of her at Blackhawk Lake, the sandy beach and water and her in a red bikini top. Harrington Hill, the little island in the middle of the lake, visible behind her.

Turn off the cameras. Except the one for her, Aro had said.

I stare at Schuyler’s IG, getting an idea.

She’s having a lot of fun, isn’t she?

She’s thinking I was a waste of time.

I lean down, planting my hands on the desk. “You should’ve been patient with me.”

I grab my T-shirt and pull it over my head. Taking my phone, my hoodie, and sliding into my sneakers, I duck out of the hideout before Aro leaves the shower.

She’s right. I give people too much power. What am I worried about? Kade doesn’t care if they’re happy. The more confused he makes women, the more they want him. And if they leave, there are others. He doesn’t sweat about it.

I don’t want that, though. I never did. Everything is important.

But it’s time to get over it. Sex is sex. I don’t have to be in love to like how her hands feel and get pleasure from it. And there are enormous health benefits to having sex that I’m missing out on. It lowers your blood pressure, improves sleep, eases stress, and it definitely counts as exercise. It’s bad for my body not to have sex. I’m actually hurting myself by holding off.

I sneak into the High Street garage, pull up my hood, and duck out the back door, jogging all the way to Madoc’s car that I left parked in the alley. I jump in, start the engine, and hit the gas, cranking up the AC full blast as I head out.

The lake is most busy in the summer, of course, and usually busiest this time of year. The weather will be cooling down soon, so it’s the last chance before school starts to soak up the sun.

My parents reopened the old summer camp there about ten years ago, but the cabins will be empty now, the summer sessions all completed and the kids gone home.

It’s a beautiful spot, the falls visible from the south shore, and we’re all usually up there at least twice a week in the summer.

When we’re not working for free at the camp, that is.

The rest of the year, my mom writes, and my dad helps run JT Racing and his own security company. They like to keep busy.

I know my parents are hoping one of us kids takes over the camp someday, though. She loves writing, and he loves working with Jared. Once James and A.J. are grown, they won’t feel as connected to the camp or feel such a need to be there anymore.

They want it to survive, though. They want kids to have what they didn’t.

I head out onto the highway and speed around the curves that give way to cliffs, and under canopies of trees filtering the sunlight. The lake comes into view, and I pull onto a side road, running parallel to the water.

Parking off to the side of the road, I climb out of the car and run across the path and into the wooded area next to the lake.

“This is creepy,” I mumble to myself.

Aro is right. I’m weird.

I’m also pissed, Schuyler’s leaving for college soon, and my pride wants to make her come before she goes.

“No, wait!” someone yells.

Girls laugh, and I step behind a tree, feeling fucking stupid now. This isn’t worth getting caught for.

Schuyler appears, a flash of red as she runs to her car in the lot. “I’m coming!” she shouts as Holly Blake and Millie Bukoski race to the bathrooms.

Schuyler digs something out of her car, the same shade of red as her swimsuit, which I’m sure was entirely planned, and slams the door, locking it.

She reaches behind her and tightens the strap tied at the back of her neck. I pull out my phone.

I see you.

I hear the notification go off and watch her check it. Her head pops up and she starts to look.

Don’t turn around, I text.

She goes still. But she doesn’t leave.

I lean against the tree, watching her.

“I’m here with someone,” she calls out.

I type. No, you’re not.

She could be, but I’m calling her bluff.

“What are you going to do?” she asks. “Maybe I should turn you in.”

I grin, tapping away on my phone. Well, then, shouldn’t you give me a proper goodbye before they lock me up?

She turns her head to the side just enough that I can see her smile. Reaching up, she pulls the clip out of her hair, every blonde lock spilling down her back, and I can feel how warm the tan skin is from here. I can imagine what it feels like.

She pulls the strings of her top, dropping it to the ground right there in the lot, and I draw in a sharp breath. She swipes her hair over her shoulder and off her back, letting me look at her naked skin, and I know she’s trying to push me. To get me to come and get her.

I know how much you like to watch me, her text reads.

I breathe hard, forcing my legs to move. I walk toward her, seeing her turn her head at the sound of my steps on the gravel, and I slide my hand up the back of her scalp.

I squeeze her hair. She moans. “Not just watch,” I whisper.

I want this. A light sweat covers my body, I’m swelling, and she wouldn’t stop me if I pushed her up against the car and just did it.

I bow my head to her, running my mouth over her temple and into her hair.

“God, I’ve waited for this,” she pants.

She turns, wraps her arms around me, and kisses my neck, gasping and biting.

“Stay with me,” she whispers, rubbing my dick through my jeans. “I need you.”

She goes faster, moving my hand to her ass, and nibbling my jaw and licking my lips.

I breathe out, shaking my head clear. I want this. I want to yank what’s left off of her and see her on top of me. I want it all.

She whimpers, moving my hand to her breast, but the skin feels rough, or maybe it’s my hand and not her, but…

She fiddles with the door behind her, and before I know it, she’s opened it and is crawling into the back seat. Her breasts sit exposed, and she rubs the inside of her thigh, drawing attention to what’s underneath her bikini bottoms. Between her legs.

She licks and bites her lips, and I lean down, taking her face in my hand.

Kiss. I swallow. Inside her. Do it.

I can’t breathe.

Her mouth. Her breath. Wet. I envision it in my head. The image of me on top of her, kissing her and moving between her thighs, but…

Then it’s over and what then?

She kisses my mouth, sticking her tongue in. I go still. It’s cold.

I can’t fucking move.

No. Not in a car. I don’t want to just fucking throw down in the back seat of a car.

I yank her hands off me and stand up, closing my eyes, because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look at these girls and see that pathetic look back.

I’m fucking broken. There’s something wrong with me. There’s so much I can’t…

“Get the fuck out of here,” I hear her say, interrupting my thoughts. Her voice is completely calm as if she knew this would happen again.

My eyes are still closed, but I know the look on her face. I’ve seen it ten times already.

I want to explain to her, but there’s nothing I can say I haven’t already said. She wants to have sex with her boyfriend. Like normal people do.

I can’t. I’m never gonna be able to do this.

I feel sick.

“You’re pathetic,” she says.

I turn and leave, the heat of her eyes, or my own fucking shame burning my back all the way to my car. I just want to be back at the hideout. Why did I leave? I shouldn’t have done this.

I thought I could prove something before she left for school.

I race home, park the car, and dive back into the hideout, the familiar cool of the cement walls and darkness a small comfort.

I can see. They can’t see. I’m safe.

I stalk down the hall, whipping off my hoodie and tossing it on the floor.

I need to get drunk. I don’t say that much, but fuck…

What happens if I can never do this? I want it. I know I fucking want it. I want a woman and kids and a life with someone someday. I don’t want to be alone forever.

Goddammit. I walk into the small kitchen, seeing Aro playing Grand Theft Auto V, doing that newbie thing where they move the controller in the direction they want their character to go. She holds the device above her head, jerking it right a few times, and I roll my eyes. I’m shocked she even knew how to start the PlayStation.

I grab a water from the fridge.

“Hey,” she says, hearing me and looking over her shoulder. “Where’d you go?”

I take a drink, swallowing half the bottle as she sets down her controller and walks over. She’s back in her black pants and T-shirt again, the outfit she wore underneath her hoodie and jacket to Rivertown that first night. Except now the clothes are clean.

Her eyes fall, and I follow her gaze, noticing the red lipstick on my collar.

“You saw her,” she says, but there’s something in her voice I can’t read.

“I was careful,” I assure her.

She stares at me, and I turn, digging an apple out of the basket on the counter.

A kernel of popcorn flies at me, hitting my chest. I look at her. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” she argues. “What happened?”

She wants to know if I fucked her? “None of your business,” I say.

She swings around the island, teasing. “Oh, come on. If you’re going to sneak out and put us in danger, at least entertain me.”

Put us in danger…

I set the apple and water down and move away from her, planting the island between us again. I place my hands on top of it, staring at her. “You first.”

She stares at me.

“Saw the cameras this morning,” I tell her. “Where’d you go last night?”

She clamps her mouth shut and turns away. “None of your business.”

Motherfucker. And I don’t know why, but I swipe my hands across the island, sending the metal bowl full of popcorn flying to the floor. It scatters, the bowl clanking across the cement, and she spins around, her eyes flaring.

I let loose. “We need to be able to trust each other or this doesn’t work!”

“Oh, back to your condescending bullshit, I see,” she taunts. “I’m not a child. I come and go as I please.”

Yeah. Of course. Without regard to anyone else.

I’m not even entirely mad at her. She’s back and appears to be safe. And from what I can tell, she didn’t cause any trouble or get seen.

I just want to yell. I’m mad.

She approaches me. “What happens after we get evidence on Reeves?”

“We go back to our lives.”

“Wrong,” she fires back. “You go to college and a string of friends and girlfriends born under lucky stars just like you, where you don’t need to be reminded that people like me are one town away. I go back to nothing. Not a damn thing changes for me.”

What does that mean? I take a step, closing the distance. “What did you do?”

“I don’t have to explain anything.”

“What did you do?” I yell.

She gets in my face, growling, “I looked out for me.”

Goddammit. She has her own agenda, and we were never a team. I should’ve known. Another mistake.

“I’m not letting you drag me down with you.” I glare at her. “I’m sick of your shit!”

Mischief hits her eyes, and I swear I see a smile. She leaves, stalking down the hallway, and I almost go after her, but I’m not entirely sure what I want to do. Kick her out? No. This argument is my fault. I’m taking my anger out on her, and I already know I’ll have to apologize.

I take in the popcorn all over the floor. I shouldn’t have gone to see Schuyler. My sex life is the last thing I should be worried about right now.

Aro walks back into the room, and I turn, facing her. She carries a black duffle bag, and it’s like the one I threw over the cliff.

She opens it, showing me stacks of cash, and I dart my eyes up to her.

“Really?” I ask. Now I am a little pissed.

That’s where she was when Kade and I got to the park. She was off stashing this.

“You’re so careless,” I laugh, but I’m not amused. “Money comes and money goes. You can’t hide this from them! Stop thinking about tomorrow and think about what happens in five years! This isn’t the most important thing!”

“Spoken like someone who’s never had to worry about not having it!” she shouts back. “That cash will feed my family for the next five years, asshole.”

I rear back, about to lose my mind with her. “Like they’re not going to figure out that they’re the ones paying for your shopping sprees and pizza deliveries!”

Is she really that dumb? She’s not old enough to get her brother and sister away from her mom, and her mom will fucking talk when she sees Aro bringing over groceries every week. When she sees her paying for toys and clothes and settling the electricity bill. They’re going to figure it out.

I open the bag and look inside at the stacks of hundreds, gauging it’s probably no more than fifty thousand. Five years? She’ll blow through this in six months.

“You brought this shit in here?” I ask, but it’s an accusation. “What happens if I get caught with this? What happens if they come in here and see this and assume we were both in on this? How much fucking trouble are we already in, Aro, and you go and do this? Don’t you get it?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Pirate.” She taunts me. “I’ll take the rap for everything. This is all my fault anyway, right? I don’t have a future anyway, right?”

She steels her defiant chin, but I see the tears she tries to hold back.

I didn’t say that.

Did I?

I didn’t mean it if I did. And it hits me how much I want her to have a future. Everything she does—good or bad—is never for herself. I see that. She has good intentions.

“It was always over for me.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Since the moment they were born. All I can do is what I can do.” She turns, sliding down the island until she’s sitting against it on the floor. “For as long as possible.”

A tear spills, but she’s trying so hard not to crack.

“What happens after we get the evidence?” she drones on. “What happens if you get caught with the money? What happens, what happens…” She laughs to herself, shaking her head. “It all happens.” And she looks up at me. “Don’t you get it? I don’t care what happens next week. They need to eat today.”

She drops her gaze again, resting her arms on her bent-up knees, and I grind my teeth together, feeling the sting in my own eyes. My throat grows tight, like needles are poking me, and I thought I understood, but I don’t.

I’ll never know the things she knows.

I lower my body, squatting in front of her, and I want to touch her face.

But I don’t. Instead, I choke out, “What happens when I don’t know where you are?”

She sits there, her face barely visible behind her hair, but I see more tears spill.

“I like you,” I tell her. “Everything has changed for me.”

I can’t go back to my friends and live like none of this ever happened. And my heart hurts, thinking about her out there, living as if I never existed. Will she forget me?

“What would’ve happened if you’d needed me last night?” I ask.

She can’t just go out alone. If they’d caught her, I would’ve never found her. She’d be gone. At the bottom of the lake, or in a lonely lump of wet earth out in the middle of the woods that no one ever found, because no one would look for her.

I don’t stop myself. I take her face and bow down, pressing my forehead to hers. “I won’t stop you from doing anything, no matter how much I hate it,” I tell her. “But you have to tell me what you’re doing.”

Her body shakes a little, but I don’t hear any sounds as she cries.

“I can’t help you if I can’t find you.”

I blink away the burn in my eyes. I’ll be damned if I let that piece of shit erase her like she doesn’t matter, or use her like she’s a commodity. I don’t know if we’ll win, but I can make sure she’s not alone anymore.

I dive in, tucking her head into my neck, and she starts crying harder. But she wraps her arms around my waist, hanging on, and I tighten my hold.

We stay like that for only a minute before she calms again, and I have a feeling those tears were a long time coming.

She sniffles, pulling back and wiping her face. “Those windows aren’t big enough,” she says, tipping her head back. “You need a skylight in here.”

“Why?”

“I like to look up,” she says. “When things hurt.”

The stars. Astronomy.

I break into a smile and stand up, an idea popping into my head.

I hold out my hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” She takes it, and I pull her up to her feet.

Keeping her hand in mine, I pull her after me. “This is worth the risk.”

“What is this place?” she asks.

I feel my way up to the control booth and turn on the system, an atmospheric sound drifting loudly out of the speakers. A tinkling starts next, and I turn down the volume, loading the screens.

“Hawke?”

“Stay there,” I shout down to her.

She stands in the middle of the dark aisle, and I see the domed ceiling fade from black to purples and blues, the background music beginning.

The theater lights up, casting a glow over her, and I look down, seeing her eyes tilt up and her mouth fall open.

Leaving the booth, I walk down and lead her into the chairs, both of us taking a seat.

But I don’t think she knows I’m here anymore. She gazes up at the fake sky, stars you can only see out in the middle of nowhere, lighting up the night. The image rotates in a circle, but it feels like we’re the ones moving, and she watches. Her mouth sits open a little, and I don’t think she blinks.

“Have you ever been to a planetarium?” I ask her.

She shakes her head, and I smile, because she looks like everything just changed for her. Like she’s starving and there’s a feast.

“Look.” She shoots up in her seat, pointing. “That’s Sirius. It’s the brightest star.”

“Right, the Dog Star.”

She twists around, taking everything in. “Yeah, because it’s part of Canis Major. We can only see it right before dawn, but you can see the Milky Way really well if you get far enough away from all the light pollution.”

She rises, looking at the screens behind her, too impatient to wait for them to rotate to us.

I laugh quietly.

“And Betelguese.” She points. “Orion will be over our heads in a few months.” She points again. “And there’s Mars. It’s visible a lot. Can you imagine what it’s like there?”

“Cold.”

She sits back down. “Quiet,” she says instead. “Mountains of rock and sand dunes, winds and storms and ice…” She continues staring up at the sky. “None of it we can touch, just look at.”

She smiles, and my chest tightens a little. She looks so amazing right now. Peaceful. I suddenly wish I could put that skylight in the hideout.

“There are so many stars,” she whispers. “So many suns. And so many with their own solar systems like ours.”

I pull my eyes away and slouch in my seat, resting my head on the back of the chair. “What’s your favorite part of astronomy?”

She follows, both of us relaxing and looking up as we leave planet Earth and enter an interstellar cloud.

“I like the theory stuff,” she says. “Black holes and worm holes and all the crazy things physicists are afraid we won’t understand.”

“Why do you like it so much?”

“Astronomy or theoretical physics?”

“Both, I guess.”

She shrugs. “Possibility. Perspective.” She sits up again, tipping her head back and smiling. “It’s kind of comforting to realize how truly insignificant you are.”

I watch her.

She goes on. “I see the star, but the star will never see me. It’ll still be there long after me. Through millions of me’s.” She pauses and then whispers, “Life goes on, no matter if I pay the bills or not.”

I ache, looking at her, because she’s right and I hate it. Life goes on.

So, we live. As hard as we can for as long as we can, and we feel everything, because if it doesn’t kill us, something will.

But she’s too busy fighting for things I’ve never had to fight for.

And I hate that.

My throat is tight, and I clear it before taking a breath. “Should we go?”

She jerks her eyes to me. “Already?”

I laugh again, because she looks devastated.

“Live on other planets, I mean?” I tell her. “Instead of fixing this one?”

She turns back to the screens. “We can do both,” she replies. “But we’ll definitely have to leave. Having all our eggs in one basket here on Earth didn’t work out well for the dinosaurs, you know?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

We watch the film, traveling through space and time, galaxies and the birth of our own, and I feel it down to my bones. How lucky we are to be here.

“You are significant,” I say quietly, still staring up at the screen. “Scientists say that nearly all the atoms in our bodies were made in a star. And many of those atoms have traveled through several supernovas.” I pause, seeing her look over at me out of the corner of my eye. “You weren’t born here. You were born billions of years ago, Aro. You’re stardust.” I look over, meeting her eyes. “The stars don’t need to see you. They know you.”