11. Addie #2
When I fell silent, unable to promise that, he frowned, trying to wrap his head around it. “Well, fine. It’s just one birthday. But you guys will get past this before our trip to Vegas, right?”
I sighed, forcing myself to consider that. We’d been talking about taking a trip to Vegas for our twenty-first birthdays, ever since Dad showed the three of us how to play Blackjack. We’d planned it years ago, a celebratory trip we’d take the summer we all turned twenty-one.
That was over two years away.
And I had to move on eventually. Practically living with Finn had helped me do that already, to a degree. It didn’t erase the hurt. It didn’t change the past, but…
I had hope that things would be okay. So, I gave Adam a small but encouraging smile.
“Yeah, I promise I won’t miss that.”
FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE, MAY 2018, AGE 19
I set my phone on the bedside table, the flashlight illuminating the contents in the drawer. I’d cracked it open, only far enough so that it wouldn’t squeak.
Slipping my fingers into the small gap I’d created, I searched for the items I’d hidden—wallet, keys, the little zippered clutch where I kept my favorite mementos. I gathered them one at a time, and then slowly eased the drawer shut.
I opened the small clutch as quietly as I could, pulling out the item I wanted.
It was silly—risky, even—but I needed it with me.
As I secured the clasp, I flinched at the cold metal against my skin, but my phone light flickered, signaling an incoming text message and distracting me. With any luck, it’d be Adam. I’d called him from the bathroom of the sleazy bar I’d gone to earlier tonight.
“I need you to pick me up tonight. My place. Midnight. Please come alone, and text me when you pull up. I’ll come out.”
Then, I’d hung up and rejoined my new, so-called friends, pretending everything was fine, even as I screamed internally. They’d all known. None of them had said a goddamn thing.
It didn’t matter now.
I refocused on my next step. If I took one at a time, I’d get out before he woke up.
He’d had bourbon tonight, and a jolt awake after a heavy pour of the hard stuff would end the same way it always did.
Until it got worse.
Clutching my keys tightly, I slid the biggest one between my pointer and middle finger.
A trick my dad had taught me before I left for college.
The key shifted between my sweaty fingers, but I tightened my grip and they stayed silent.
I padded softly over the old floorboards, avoiding precarious spots prone to creaking.
I made it to the bedroom door.
In the darkened living room, I slipped on my shoes. With my free hand, I reached behind the couch, grabbing for the backpack I’d stowed there earlier. I came up empty.
“Looking for this?”
At the sound of his voice, I froze, fighting to keep my heart rate and my voice steady. “The remote? I think I dropped it.” I continued to reach as if searching for it. “I thought, maybe it fell behind the couch. Did you find it?”
While I pretended to search, I used my other hand, hidden by my body, to open my phone and click Adam’s name to call him.
“Not the remote.”
I closed my eyes as the phone began to ring, torn between relief and dread.
“But I did find the bag of things you packed.” Finn’s voice splintered through me like cracks on ice, preparing me for a nasty plunge beneath the frozen surface, down to chilling depths I hadn’t seen within him until it was too late.
He spoke with an eerie calm that only heightened the chill racing down my back. “You going somewhere, Addie?”
Adam picked up the phone, and as his muffled hello came through the line, I spoke to cover the sound. “I’m leaving, Finn. My brother’s already waiting outside.”
Sure that Adam had heard me, I decided I was done hiding. Done cowering. And as I stood, I spoke directly into my phone while turning around to face Finn.
“If I don’t walk out the door in the next two minutes, he calls the cops.” When Finn rolled the strap of my backpack over his tattooed fingers, I swallowed. “So, just let me go.”
He strangled the strap in his grip, and I dragged my gaze to his face, locking it there and avoiding the show of power he made with his hands.
Hands that used to show me unimaginable heights. Hands that had turned into tools to hurt me. Hands that dragged me to the ground. That suffocated me far worse than I’d felt when I’d been unseen, unchosen, and unloved.
Finn had always wielded words like weapons. I’d loved that about him.
Until he’d turned them on me.
And the strike of his palm across my cheek had been the final blow.
Staring into his brown, watery eyes, I recalled the night we met. How I’d compared the hue to the color of his whiskey without knowing. It had been a harbinger for alcohol-fueled rage to come.
When his eyes darkened from amber to umber, his bloodshot stare filled me with fear.
My pulse pounded in my ears, blood rushing past as he threw my bag on the ground.
He stomped on it.
“You want it?” He sneered, jerking his chin at the floor in front of him. “Come get it.”
I didn’t move.
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Just a scared bitch acting tough.”
Ignoring his bait, I checked the clock on my phone. “Thirty seconds.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Addie. Your brother isn’t out there. Even if he was coming to clean up your mess, he shows his face, and I’ll show him what I do to people who stick their noses in my business. When they interfere with what doesn’t belong to them.”
I narrowed my gaze, my jaw clenching as I lifted my chin.
He laughed and stared pointedly at my cheek. “Did you not learn that the first time?”
My hand flew to my face before I could stop it, a defensive reflex giving away the power he’d held over me.
Once.
That was all he got. I reminded myself of that promise I’d made, the way I had every night as I planned my exit. He’d hit me once, and he wouldn’t get the chance to do it again.
I’d be no man’s fool twice.
But his size compared to mine, the intensity of his drunken rage, it scared me.
I stepped forward cautiously, coming closer to Finn and the front door. I needed to wait, but the desperation to escape kept me easing toward him.
When the muted sound of a car door slamming came from outside, a wave of courage rushed through me, and I held steady, knowing my fiercest protector raced toward my side.
Adam wouldn’t let him touch me again.
I progressed close enough to stop right in front of my bag, far enough so Finn couldn’t grab me easily. Bending at the knee, I dipped low. I kept my eyes on the threat in front of me as I knelt, reaching for the strap to yank my bag closer.
Fumbling around, canvas brushed my fingers, and I grabbed for it. Finn’s expression morphed to fury as I secured the strap. I scooped up the bag, anyway.
As I got to my feet, the door kicked in behind Finn.
And I locked eyes with the last person I’d expected to see.
Blake Hawthorne, the picture of casual confidence in dark denim and a letterman’s jacket, leaned against the busted doorjamb.
Even from here, I noticed everything about him—his body vibrating with restraint, his jaw clenched hard enough to grind his teeth, and the lazy once over he gave Finn as he feigned nonchalance.
Right before, his lip curled with murderous disdain.
Behind him, my brother loomed with a thunderous expression on his face. Usually placid, Finn took one look at him, charging toward us, and his confidence faltered. He swallowed deeply and retreated wisely, pinning his back against the wall as he stared between me and my cavalry.
And he didn’t say another word.
As Adam walked up behind Blake, he searched me over for signs of harm, and I shook my head to let him know I was okay. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.
I stepped closer, freezing when Finn whipped his head in my direction.
Blake cleared his throat, drawing my gaze back to him.
“Do I need to kill him?”
Despite his cool tone, tempered rage simmered beneath his expression and his words. Even after months of silence, he stood ready and willing to bury my piece of shit ex-boyfriend if I gave him permission to do it.
But I shook my head. “He’s not worth the blood on your hands.”
Blake’s eyebrow jumped, like he disagreed, but he simply nodded. Then, without moving from the doorway, he held out his hand for me. Adam pinned his gaze on Finn, daring him to stop me. I stared between them, unsure what to do.
Until Blake anchored his gaze to mine.
“Addie, take my hand.” His voice firm and steady. “We’re going home.”
I searched for a trace of doubt in his eyes, but one look at his face assured me that if Finn stood in my way, the consequences would be far worse than a broken door.
So, I took a step, trusting him—trusting them both—that I’d cross the room unharmed.
Without breaking Blake’s stare, I slid past Finn and slipped my hand into his open palm.
He laced our fingers together, tugging me toward him and curling me into his side.
As he scanned my face, his eyes fell on the item I’d grabbed before I left the room, resting safely where it belonged. His jaw tightened, but I couldn’t read his expression before he pulled me behind him and farther away from Finn.
He let me go into Adam’s waiting arms, and the second our hands separated, the air shifted behind me. Adam hugged me tightly as the satisfying crunch of fist against bone filled me with relief, and I spun to witness it, as Finn fell to the floor.
Adam pulled me away, towing me toward the car as Blake crouched over Finn’s body.