13. Madelyn
I can’t breathe.
The bathroom walls feel like they’re closing in around me, the fluorescent lights buzzing loud enough to make my head pound. I grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles ache, forcing myself to look at my reflection.
The memory of what I’ve done continues to haunt me and I can’t fucking escape it. It doesn’t matter how far I run or how much I try to convince myself that it’s over. It’s always there, waiting in the back of my mind, reminding me of the thing I can never take back.
I can’t keep living like this. Constantly looking over my shoulder. Constantly waiting for the moment my father appears again. The man I watched die. The man I thought I killed. Except he isn’t dead. And if he’s really alive…what’s stopping him from finishing what he started?
“Excuse me.” The voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I blink, realizing I’m still standing directly in front of the restroom entrance, blocking the way. A woman is standing there with her young child, giving me a confused look as she tries to get around me.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” I rush out, stepping aside.
My cheeks burn with embarrassment as she ushers her child into the bathroom, but before I can move, I feel someone watching me.
Glancing up, I spot Kaitlin. She’s standing a few feet away, her brows drawn together as she studies me.
“Maddie?”
I don’t answer. Because the one thing that had me in the bathroom in the first place catches my eye through the window and my heart stops once more.
Without thinking, I shove open the door of the coffee shop and run outside.
“Maddie!” Kaitlin's voice follows behind me, but it feels distant. Like she’s underwater and I’m somewhere else entirely.
Cars honk as I sprint across the street, barely registering the vehicles speeding past me. I don’t look both ways. I don’t stop to think. I just need to know if I’m right.
The blue Camaro sits parked along the curb, my chest tightening as I approach it. Looking into the passenger window, I see the one thing that causes the world around me to disappear.
No. It can’t be. It’s been years. It’s fucking impossible.
The tear in the leather, in the exact same place.
I remember the fight so vividly. My parents’ voices echoing through the house while I stood frozen in the hallway, too scared to move.
My father was furious, and I didn’t understand why.
I only understood the way his voice changed when he was angry.
The way my mother cried as she begged him to stop.
I heard him say he was going to kill him, but I didn’t know who “him” was.
I only knew I was terrified, so I ran. I hid behind the bushes near the garage, my little hiding spot.
It was my safe place. I was so small back then, no one ever thought to look there.
And from that spot, I watched. I watched my father storm out of the house, the screen door slamming against the wall behind him. I watched him walk toward his blue Camaro. Mom stood on the front steps, tears streaming down her face.
“Please stop,” she begged.
But he didn’t listen. He never listened. He climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. For a moment, he just sat there. Then his fist collided with the steering wheel. Again, and again, and again. Until finally, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife.
I remember holding my breath, watching him stare at the blade, watching the anger in his eyes. Then he turned toward the passenger seat and drove the knife straight into the leather. The sound of the blade tearing through the material still haunts me.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I react before I can stop myself. I jerk backward, my body moving on instinct, nearly knocking Kaitlin away. The fear disappears the second I see her face. The hurt and shock painted there causes my stomach to drop.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer, my voice breaking. “I just…the car…I-”
I can’t finish. Because he’s not dead. He’s here, and he’s fucking with me.
The realization hits so hard, my body starts to betray me. My teeth grind together as I squeeze my eyes shut, trying desperately to force myself to calm down. But I can’t. I have no control.
The panic crashes over me all at once. My chest tightens, my breathing becoming shallow. The tears come before I even realize I’m crying. I’m fucking losing it.
“Oh fuck. Holy fucking shit, Maddie!” Kaitlin's voice sounds terrified. “Maddie, breathe! You need to breathe!”
I don’t even realize my knees have given out until I feel her catching me.
When did I get on the ground?
She pulls me onto her lap, one hand gripping my shoulders while the other taps my cheek.
“Maddie, look at me.”
I try. I really do. But everything is becoming blurry. The sounds around me start fading.
“Maddie!” Kaitlin's voice cracks.
I feel her searching through my pockets before pulling out my phone.
Who is she calling?
I hear people around us panicking. Someone asks if they should call 911, but Kaitlin immediately refuses.
“No. No, I know who to call.”
Then she’s speaking into the phone.
“Miles? Miles, it’s Kaitlin. Maddie needs help.”
My heart clenches at the sound of his name.
“We’re at the coffee shop down the street from the school. Please hurry.”
I don’t know how much time passes before I start to become aware of my surroundings again. Everything feels distant, like I’m trapped somewhere between reality and the memory that keeps dragging me under.
Then I feel him. Strong arms wrap around me, lifting me from the ground, and before I open my eyes, I know it's Miles. His scent surrounds me—the faint smell of cigarette smoke mixed with cedar—and somehow, despite the panic still coursing through my body, I feel a small sense of relief.
He came for me.
I force my eyes open, needing to see him, needing the reassurance that he’s really here. My vision is still blurry, but I can make out the familiar blue of his eyes and the face I’ve grown far too attached to. The small smirk that always manages to make my stomach flip is nowhere to be found.
Instead, his jaw is clenched, his brows pulled together, and there’s a storm brewing in his expression.
He’s angry, but not at me. At least, not yet.
I close my eyes again quickly, hoping he didn’t notice me staring. I shouldn’t care about what he thinks. I shouldn’t care that being held by him feels like the only place where my mind finally quiets down. But I do. And that terrifies me more than anything.
Miles carries me over to his Jeep and carefully lowers me into the backseat. His hands are gentle despite the tension radiating through him, and I hate how easily my body relaxes around him when my mind is screaming at me to push him away.
“Stay with me, Mads,” he murmurs.
The softness in his voice almost breaks me. I want to tell him everything. I want to tell him about my father. About the car. About the memories that came rushing back the second I saw that tear in the leather.
But the words won’t come.
Because the second I tell him the truth, there’s no taking it back. He’ll know what I’ve done. He’ll know the secrets I’ve spent months carrying alone, and I don’t know if I could survive watching him look at me differently.
“Miles?” Kaitlin's voice pulls my attention away.
“Get in the car.”
His tone is sharp, but I can hear the fear underneath it. He isn’t angry with her, he’s just scared, and that somehow makes me feel even worse.
Kaitlin immediately climbs into the passenger seat and shuts the door.
A strange feeling twists in my chest when I see her sitting beside him.
I hate it. I hate that I even notice. The seat isn’t mine.
I don’t have any claim over Miles, especially when I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that I need to keep my distance from him.
Kaitlin is my best friend. She’s the person who stayed with me when I couldn’t even breathe.
She’s the reason Miles knows I needed help.
And yet, some irrational part of me still wishes I was sitting there beside him.
Because being close to him feels natural.
It feels safe, and I don’t know what to do with that.
The Jeep pulls out of the parking spot, and I focus on the conversation happening in front of me.
“What the fuck happened, Kaitlin?” Miles’ voice is low, but the concern behind it is impossible to miss.
“I-I don’t know,” she says, her voice shaking. “We were about to leave the coffee shop, and Maddie said she needed to use the restroom. Then, out of nowhere, I see her running across the street in front of moving fucking cars.”
My stomach twists as I listen to her explain.“I tried to stop her, Miles. I swear I did. But it was like she couldn’t hear me. She was completely focused on that car.”
The silence that follows makes my heartbeat pick up.
“What car?” Miles asks.
Kaitlin hesitates.
“It was some old blue car with black stripes. I think it was a Camaro. I don’t know what the fuck her issue was with it, but she looked terrified.”
I watch Miles through the small opening between the seats, and the second his hands tighten around the steering wheel, I know. He remembers the car. He’s putting things together. That scares me more than I want to admit.
Since meeting Miles, I’ve noticed that he’s always been observant. He notices the little things people try to hide, and right now, I can practically see the questions forming in his mind.
I can’t let him find out.
I don’t know what would happen if he knew the truth about my father. I don’t know if he would see me differently or if he would look at me the way I’ve always feared people would if they knew. Like I’m something broken—something dangerous.