Chapter Thirty-Four
The cab of the truck is silent as it rocks down the dirt drive.
Jonathan’s chin is quaking. His eyes remain fixated on the road. I swipe at tears. My heart pounds in my chest, not recognizing we’re out of danger.
Are we out of danger?
I slide as close as I can get to Jonathan without interfering with the stick shift. I want to touch him. To hold him. He’s barely holding it together. I remain by his side and hope that’s enough—for now.
“Let’s go to Collin’s.” My voice’s barely above a whisper.
Jonathan nods imperceptibly.
Jane’s car isn’t in the driveway when we pull up. It’s what I was hoping.
Collin is waiting behind the glass door, cowlicks sprung up and his eyes heavy with sleep. He holds the door open when we silently march toward him, each carrying a bag. I’m first to enter with Gavin being the last.
“There are blankets and pillows on the couch downstairs. Jane gets home at seven, so we’ll deal with that then. But I think she’s been expecting this.”
Jonathan nods. “Thanks.” He’s a shadow of himself. The fire replaced by a wisp of smoke.
I hear Collin tell Gavin before I disappear down the stairs, “Thanks for calling me.”
Jonathan tosses his bag onto the recliner, and I set the backpack next to it. His legs give out, and he surrenders his weight to the couch. I stand before him, and he wraps his arms around my legs as I cradle his head against my stomach.
His breaths are heavy, and his embrace is desperate, like he’s begging me to hold him together. I soothe him with hushes and hands running through his hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Lifting his head, he peers up at me, and I cup the sides of his face. His eyes are dry but tortured. “What did you see?”
“Something I never want to happen again,” I tell him, brushing a thumb over the stubble of his jaw, where a bruise will form. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan.”
He pulls me down, and I straddle him, hugging him tight. I’m the one crying, but we’re both in pain. “What do you need? Ice or anything?”
“Not right now,” he murmurs into my hair. “I just need you.”
I bury my face into his neck and kiss his pulse. Our breathing syncs, as do our heartbeats. I curl around him. He wraps his arms around me like I’m saving him.
We stay in this tangled embrace until I hear voices on the stairs. We slowly unwind, and I can feel the loss of his heat when the air slips between our bodies.
“Clothes are good,” Collin comments, like he expected to catch us without them. Gavin doesn’t bother with a smartass remark.
“Sadie, we need to get going. They’re expecting us to come back with coffee for the firefighters and officers,” Gavin tells me.
I nod, my focus still on Jonathan, hands on his face, his neck, through his hair. I have to keep touching him. Assuring him. Convincing myself.
He is safe. He is safe. He is safe.
I press my lips to his and linger there, absorbing their warmth. “I love you.”
It feels impossible to leave him. But as soon as I do, I give in to the emotions that’ve been locked behind the fear and adrenaline since I witnessed the first blow to Jonathan’s body.
It’s always felt safer to look the other way.
Easier to leave when everything got too intense.
But I’ve been denying myself the truth. And now I can’t unsee it.
I can’t unknow it. I can’t let it happen again.
Gavin leaves the car running when we arrive at the coffee shop that’s just opening. I try to gather myself in his absence.
The back door opens, and Gavin places the boxes of coffee on the floor behind my seat.
“He has witnesses,” I tell Gavin when he buckles in.
“What?”
“Jonathan,” I explain. “You said that nothing could happen to Hal unless Jonathan had witnesses. You and I are witnesses.”
“And?”
I’m dumbfounded. “He can press charges! For everything his dad has done to him!”
Gavin gives me a look loaded with pity. “Do you really think he will?”
No,” Jonathan says when I bring it up to him at lunch. We found an empty study room in the library so we could talk without being overheard.
“What do you mean? He can’t get away with this!” I insist, throwing away everything I learned in peer mentoring about being supportive. Allowing the survivor to decide.
Collin stares silently at the ceiling with his chair leaning against the wall. Which is not like him at all. I look at him, inviting him to the conversation that’s meant to protect Jonathan from his father.
“Have you talked to Sam?” Collin asks. It sounds strange, hearing him call Jonathan’s mother by her name. My mom’s always been Mrs. Prescott. My dad’s a different story.
“This morning,” Jonathan answers, his entire vibe sullen. Probably exhausted. And hurting. The bruise on his jaw is fully formed and slightly swollen. His two-day stubble does a decent job concealing it, but my eyes keep finding their way to the side of his face.
We only saw a couple minutes of their argument. I don’t know how many times Hal hit him before we arrived and what the rest of him may look like. “She said it’s probably best that I stay with you until the fire marshal releases a report and this is all cleared up. To let my dad calm down.”
“You know she set the fire,” Collin says, his chair crashing with a thud on the carpet. “And unless Livvy’s some sorta brilliant arsonist, it’s going to come back as suspicious. It looks sketchy as hell the cameras were turned off four hours before the fire.”
“Does anyone know about the cameras? Besides your dad’s company?”
Jonathan gives me a shrug. “It’s not a secret that he sets up cameras at his work sites.”
“All of them?”
Jonathan considers this. “No. Usually just the ones that aren’t secured.”
“So, why this one? It was an indoor renovation, right?” I wondered why there were cameras.
I thought about it while I was getting ready for school.
The only reason I could come up with was that Hal didn’t trust Livvy or her friends—Jonathan included—not to enter the house while her parents were in Paris.
Collin stands. “Holy shit. You’re right. There shouldn’t have been cameras.”
“Maybe no one will know to ask about them. And I doubt Hal will hand them over without a warrant,” I suggest, hoping it’s helpful. But wait. Who’s this helping? I don’t want Jonathan to return home. “You’re not going back, right?”
Jonathan meets my eyes. I’m not sure if he knows I heard Hal’s threat.
“Jane is totally fine with you staying ’til college. You know that. And as long as you two don’t have sex in my bed, I’m good.”
“Collin!” My face is an instant sunburn.
He looks between us like there’s something wrong with us. “You haven’t had sex yet? Why not?”
“Omigod.” I hide my head in my arms. “Why are we talking about this?”
Jonathan chuckles. Which makes Collin laugh.
This gets my attention. “Why are you laughing?” Jonathan has a glint in his eye that coaxes out a smile. Can’t help it. It’s good to see light in his eyes, even at the cost of my mortification.
“Your reaction,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so embarrassed.”
“I’m not talking to Collin about our sex life.”
“What sex life?” Collin mocks.
“Will you talk to me about it?” Jonathan asks with a crooked grin.
“I’m outta here,” Collin declares, grabbing his backpack and exiting the study room.
“Wow, that was easy,” I note, watching Collin approach a study table and do something asinine that causes the students to erupt with laughter. The librarian rushes over to shut him up.
“I was serious.”
I blink. “You were?”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About having sex… with you?”
Jonathan smiles. “Yes. Would you like to…”
“You want to plan it?”
“I want to do whatever feels right to you.”
“Uh… I’ve… um… yes. I want to have sex with you.”
This gets Jonathan laughing with his head tilted back. The creases around his eyes smiling along with him.
“Good. I want to have sex with you too.”
“But… like, can we not plan it? I mean, I don’t want to have it in your truck or my car. I don’t exactly want roses and candles either.” That’s what Graham did, and I definitely don’t want a single thought of Graham in my head when I’m with Jonathan. “Can we make the decision when it feels right?”
“As long as there’s no chance of being caught by anyone,” he adds, the smile still on his face. “Besides, my fighting days are over. I can’t lose this scholarship.” He flashes a wicked grin, and I’m suddenly nervous about what he’ll say next.
“Don’t say it,” I warn him.
“I was just going to say that it’s better to be a lover, not a fighter, right?”
I groan. “That was so awful. You’ve only been living with Collin a day, and you already sound like him.”
“That needs to change immediately.” Jonathan leans in and kisses me. And kisses me. And kisses me.
A rapid knock on the glass separates us. “Stop that!” The librarian’s scolding reminds us that we’re not alone. The knocking gains everyone’s attention.
“Definitely don’t want to get caught.”