Chapter 4
The Hidden Stars
Summer
The air outside hits like a slap. Thick. Wet. Clinging to my skin. The smell of beer and fried grease lingers in the open doorway. Cicadas scream from the trees—endless and shrill—like the world is trying to drown out the silence inside me.
I lean against the brick wall behind the bar and finally let myself breathe. Not deeply. Just enough to stop the ringing in my ears. The ache in my thigh pulses with every heartbeat.
The sky is heavy. Swollen with humidity.
The stars don’t shine out here. Not in Rosefield. Here, they hide.
I grit my jaw, forcing pressure through my teeth to drown out the throbbing heat radiating through my thigh.
No one saw. But even if they did, no one would do anything about it. Footsteps on the gravel cause my heart to jump, then Benny steps into view, hands tucked into his jacket pockets like he doesn’t want to scare me.
“You hurt?” he asks, voice low and etched with concern.
“I’m fine.”
He gives me a look. “You don’t lie very well.”
“Then don’t ask things you don’t want the answer to.”
That earns a smirk—but only for a second. It fades fast. He watches me like he’s trying to put a puzzle together.
“How’d you know my name?” I ask. Anything to change the subject. “Back there. I never told you.”
He looks down. Kicks gravel with the toe of his boot. “I asked Brian, the drummer. The second I saw you.”
My stomach twists. “Why?”
“Because I had to know,” he says. “Had to have the dance. Even if it was stupid. Even if I knew it would piss him off.” He doesn’t say Jacob’s name, but it hangs there. “Bri told me you’re off-limits, said you’re Sheriff’s girl,” Benny adds. “Doesn’t matter, I know sadness when I see it.”
“You don’t even know me. Why risk upsetting Jacob? Do you know how—”
“I know enough.” He steps closer—not too close.
I glance away.
“The Sheriff’s a real piece of work,” he mutters.
“You don’t know him,” I snap—too fast. “People in this town talk a lot.”
Why am I defending him?
“Yeah,” Benny says. “And none of them mention the way he grabs you under the table in plain view of half the town?”
That one lands.
“Why are you even out here?”
“Because you walked out. And I couldn’t sit there pretending I didn’t see what I saw. Needed to see you were alright….” There’s a pause. Then, “Let me guess,” he says gently. “You’ve got a thing for men in power?”
I whip my gaze to him, anger rising. “Excuse me?”
He lifts both hands. “I’m asking. Not accusing. Believe me, I get the appeal—someone strong. Someone who can protect you. Keep things in control. Especially when the world feels like it’s falling apart.”
I say nothing. My insides twist with the truth he's edging towards. I'm with Jacob partly because of his badge, his power. It wasn't my choice, but I’ll never let Benny know that.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he adds, softer. “It just… it kills me to see women being hurt by fucking bullies who call themselves men,”
I fold my arms defensively. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He sighs, taking a seat on a low concrete pillar beside the dumpster. Then, unexpectedly, he offers a hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… sit with me for a minute.”
A part of me hesitates, torn between staying guarded and accepting the comfort I crave.
Something gives way. I take his hand. He gently guides me onto his knee, his arm resting around my back—not possessive, but steady.
I remain stiff, fighting my instincts… then slowly lean into him, just enough to sense his warmth through the fabric of our clothes.
“You’re something else,” he murmurs. “Don’t know what it is yet. But damn.”
I look up at him, and for just a moment, caught between two worlds, it feels like everything might finally slow down. Like maybe it’s possible to want something… without being afraid of it. Our conversation flows so easily.
Then—BANG. The door crashes open.
Mr. Braithwaite stumbles into the lot—half-buttoned, dazed, sweat soaking through his collar. His tie hangs loose around his neck like a noose someone gave up tightening.
“Summer,” he slurs. “Sheriff’s lookin’ for ya. He don’t seem too happy.”
My chest clamps tight.
The flicker Benny gave me—that stupid, dangerous spark I didn’t mean to feed—dies on the spot. My breath stutters. Pulse hammers in my throat.
Just one second. Just one—BANG.
The door crashes open again. Boots strike pavement like gunshots.
Jacob.
No scanning. No hesitation. He knew exactly where I’d be.
“What the fuck are you doing, Summer?” His voice slices through the lot—jagged enough to skin me alive.
A few strides and he’s on me. His hand clamps around my arm—fingers bruising, nails biting.
“I told you no fucking scenes,” he snarls, dragging me closer. “No embarrassment. You do what you’re told for once in your goddamn life.”
I open my mouth to answer—to fight—but nothing comes out. Just the taste of blood, and fear. The last trace of freedom I thought I had.
He yanks me hard. My side slams against the truck’s side mirror. Pain screams across my back. I bite down on my lip to keep the sound buried.
“Get in,” he hisses. “No more of your crocodile tears. I’m done playing.”
And then—
“Hey.” One word. Low. Calm. But it stops everything.
Jacob turns.
Benny stands a few feet away—hands loose, eyes steady. No bravado. No threat.
“I don’t think she wants to go with you.”
Jacob laughs—dry and dangerous. “And I don’t think you know what the fuck you’re talking about, son.”
Benny shrugs. “Maybe not. But I know what I saw.”
Jacob’s grip tightens like a vice. My ribs twist—pulling against each other like they want out. Benny’s gaze flicks to mine.
“I think she’s had enough.”
A beat.
Jacob steps forward. Releases me with a shove. I stumble into the truck, catching myself on the door handle.
“Get in the truck, Summer. Now.”
And this time, I do. Without argument, without breathing a word. Because the stars stay hidden.
And so do I.