18. Star-song
STAR-SONG
Lor
“You might think I need you, but I don’t. I’d rather eliminate an asset entirely than maintain an underperforming one.”
The words ring in my ears as I watch him stride away.
He had leaned toward me after his thugs dropped the poor bloodied man on the ground, lowering his voice for my ears alone as he made his threat clear.
His bodyguards haven’t moved a muscle since entering, and they stare at me as I back away a few steps, then turn and attempt to keep my head high as I leave on shaky legs.
I hope my nerves aren’t noticeable; weakness is a danger in this world.
I don’t let my defeat show until I’m back at my bike, blocks away. I don’t know how to move forward. I’m not too worried about myself; despite his threat, as long as I’m bringing in stardust, I don’t think he’ll kill me.
What I’m truly worried about is Ro. He’s been getting closer, wiggling his way through the cracks in my walls, and now he knows more than he should.
If he realizes what’s going on, who I’m working for and what is required of me, I fear what his demon side will do.
He seems good-natured and cheerful, easy going with a quick smile, but he’s still a demon.
Not to mention what would happen to him if the big boss man found out I have a weakness.
My mind starts offering flashes of worst case scenarios: Ro being threatened, harmed, his face taking the place of the bloodied one from the warehouse, him being used against me to force me to comply.
Even worse, they might find a way to use him too, somehow harnessing his demon abilities for evil.
That would break him.
And I can’t allow that.
Which means I can’t have him. It’s the only path forward that keeps him safe.
I unlock my apartment on autopilot as my brain conjures more and more images. Ro with bloody stumps instead of colorful fingernails. Ro being forced to beat someone, or being beaten for my failures. Ro being held hostage in a dank cell as I try desperately to find more stardust.
Ro losing his spark, the life draining from his eyes.
I pull out my grandmother’s diary, the only thing I have left from my family, and clutch it to my chest. It’s cool in my hands, the leather soft under my fingertips.
I don’t even have anything of my mom’s, but this at least makes me feel slightly less alone sometimes.
My mind shifts from Ro to my mother, and I wonder what country she’s in.
Is she happy? Is she still jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend, city to city? Is she safe?
My fingers start to drum the cover of the journal, and my knee bounces as my thoughts spin. I try to avoid it, but one thought punches through the others anyway.
Has she lost her mind yet?
I jump up from the bed and pace down the hall, around the coffee table and couch, through the kitchen, and back to my room before spinning on my heel and doing it again.
How much of her sanity is left? Can she still take care of herself, keep herself safe, feed herself? Does she remember she has a daughter?
Is she even still alive?
I thrust my fingers into my hair and grip my scalp, shaking my head to try to dislodge the thoughts, but they stick in my brain like taffy.
Stretching and pulling, one thought leading to the next, but refusing to let go.
My mood is plummeting, getting darker, the thoughts filling me with despair.
I feel helpless, hopeless, like there’s no way out of the horrible situation that is my life.
I grab my keys and sprint to the door. Only bad choices will come if I stay here alone, so I fling myself back onto my bike in search of the open road.
The dark sky welcomes me, and I blink in surprise.
I didn’t realize the whole day had passed already, but evening brings a sense of relief.
I’m always more calm when I can see the stars, and tonight is no different.
I catch a glimpse of another bike turning a corner behind me as I pull out onto the highway.
I spare a moment to wonder if it’s Ro, and if so, what to do about it, but I don’t have the capacity tonight.
When tingles light up my spine a few minutes later, I know I was right, that it is him, but I pretend he’s not there.
I drive to one of the only spots that brings me peace these days.
A remote area along the beach of Lake Michigan where my feet sink in the soft sand.
It’s a place of solitude where I can listen to the waves crash, and bathe in the light of the stars.
Their song resonates in my chest and I close my eyes, absorbing it.
It feels like loss.
My eyes prickle with tears, but I don’t let them fall. I shift on the sand, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them as I tip my head back. I stare up at the night sky, letting each star wink at me as their song echoes in my heart.
I’m not surprised when soft footsteps approach and Ro sits next to me. He leaves a few inches of room between us, not saying anything, and I appreciate being given space right now. His silent support is more than enough.
From my periphery, I see him stretch out his legs and lean back on his arms, hands planted in the sand behind him so he can tip his head back and look at the stars with me. I shift my attention back to the sky, focusing on my breathing. The silence is calm between us, but not peaceful.
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel peaceful again.
“I moved a lot as a kid,” I say, my voice surprising me as it cuts through the night.
Ro glances at me, hazel eyes soft and wide, but then slowly returns his focus to the stars. I can tell he’s listening though, ready to hang on every word. My lips pinch and my eyes burn. I hadn’t intended to speak, but thoughts tumble from my mouth anyway in the face of his quiet support.
“My mom… She was a star-chaser, too. She couldn’t ever stay in one place for long.
A year at the most. It made it hard to make friends.
I didn’t even graduate high school. Got my GED on the road instead, while my mom moved us from state to state.
At least she stayed in the country, I guess that’s something. ”
I swallow hard, my brows drawing down at the memory of trying to survive with a chaotic, barely-present parent while also dealing with my own emerging star-chaser urges surrounds me. Ro shifts, moving a couple inches closer.
“I haven’t seen her in years,” I whisper. “I have no idea where she is, what country she might be in. I hear from her sometimes, every few months maybe, and she’s always somewhere new.”
Ro sits up and crosses his legs, angling his body slightly toward mine, but his gaze turns to the crashing waves down the beach. I’m glad he’s not looking at me. I don’t think I could continue with his eyes on me this time.
“I think she resented me when I was little. She never seemed to want me around, and it always felt like I was holding her back. Like she’d be able to be so much more—do better—without me,” I say, my voice catching with the admission.
Ro lets out a low noise in his throat, and he reaches for me, then tenses and pulls back.
I shove my hand into the sand between us, the dry grains sticking to my sweaty palm and digging under my fingernails.
My fist clenches around a handful and I pick it up, letting it slowly trickle out between my fingers and back to the ground before doing it again.
It takes me a few moments to gather the courage to continue.
“I get it now,” I say, glancing at Ro. “The urge to follow the stars, to keep moving. It’s intense, demanding. Impossible to ignore.”
I shrug and open my hand, letting the sand drop between us.
Ro snags my palm, gently brushing the sand away before enfolding it in both his hands and bringing my knuckles to his lips.
He kisses them softly, then turns my hand over and feathers his lips over the inside of my wrist, eyes intent on mine.
I meet his gaze, letting him see all my sadness, all my fear. The hopelessness that consumes me.
I know I shouldn’t. I know I should put up my walls, push him away, protect him from the consequences of being part of my life.
But his pull is nearly as strong as the stars.
“You still deserved better,” Ro says. His voice is tentative, like he’s unsure how I’ll react.
I look back down at our clasped hands, shifting toward him. “Maybe,” I whisper.
I can feel the heat from his body inches from mine, and I shiver on the cold sand. I yearn to lean into that heat, to take comfort from him. To not be alone.
Ro makes the decision for me, closing the space between us to pull me into a hug. I melt into his arms, and he tugs me onto his lap. I curl into him, burying my face in his neck as he tucks my legs up, looping his arms around me and holding me snug against his body.
His warmth seeps into me, loosening my muscles and slowing my breathing. We sit there for long minutes, with Ro trailing his fingers up and down the outside of my thigh and nuzzling his nose into my hair.
It softens the grief inside me, dulling the song of my kin in the sky. He places a soft kiss on my forehead, and it sends a sharp pang through my heart.
I ignore it all, closing my eyes as I let myself accept the comfort he offers under the light of the stars.
When my legs prickle with discomfort from being folded up for too long, I shift and stretch, settling on the sand between his legs instead. I lean back against his chest, and one of his arms winds around me. My head tips back to rest against his shoulder as we both look up at the clear night sky.
“I can feel them,” I say softly.
Ro twists to look down at me, then follows my gaze back up to the stars. “What do you mean?”
“The stars. They sing to me. I can feel it,” I say, taking his hand in mine and moving it to the center of my chest, between the hollow of my throat and the top of my breasts.
“Here,” I say. “It’s like… a resonance. Within me, but coming from above.”
Ro presses his palm into my chest, his entire body stilling behind me.
“I can’t feel it,” he says, dejection lining his tone.
The corners of my lips tip up in a sad smile. “No,” I murmur, “I can’t imagine you’d be able to.”
Ro grumbles an incoherent noise, and my lips tilt further.
I turn my face to press my nose into his neck again, taking a long inhale of his bonfire scent.
He sees my smile and squeezes me once before letting go.
I’m glad he doesn’t make a big deal of it.
Of me opening up, or the unbelievable things I’ve shared.
“How about a distraction?” he says.
My face drops and I eye him warily. “What kind of distraction?”
His grin turns wicked, flushing my skin until it’s hot.
“The fun kind, of course.”
Ro urges me up, standing and pulling me with him.
Then he starts stripping off his clothes.
He reaches one hand back to grab the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head, biceps flexing, and then the shirt drops to the sand.
His piercings blink in the faint glimmer of night, catching my attention.
My mouth waters when his hands drop to his pants, unbuttoning them and shoving them down as he kicks his boots off.
Before I know it, he’s butt naked, standing proud in front of me with his hands on his hips and cock jutting out like it’s reaching for me. He bounces his eyebrows, then turns toward the water. My gaze drops to his ass, firm round muscles rippling as he strides away.
“I dare you to skinny dip with me, Starfire,” he says, throwing the words at me over his shoulder as he walks away.
My jaw clenches. Does he know I hate turning down a dare? I can’t let a challenge go without meeting it. I reluctantly agree—in my own head, of course—that it does sound like a great way to get my mind off everything that’s been plaguing me.
I roll my eyes with a sigh, then strip out of my clothes, dropping them on the sand next to Ro’s as I stomp after him.
Is he still keeping score between us? Because if so, I’m pretty sure I’m losing.
Badly.