Why not tell me Clay is out of jail? Why not let me help him figure it out? I’ve never asked him to protect me from the truth. Only to trust me with it.
And he won’t.
He never has.
And why am I even surprised?
Since the day I met him, it’s been nothing but secrets and lies and half-truths dressed up like affection. Like manipulation wrapped in warmth. I’ve been living in the shell of something real, but never allowed to touch the core of it.
I press my hand to my chest, the ache there deeper than fear now.
It’s disappointment.
And the sick, growing suspicion that I might never get the full version of him.
I reach for my phone without thinking, my fingers moving before I can second-guess myself. My heart thuds so loud it feels like I can hear it in my ears.
I open our thread and type.
Come back.
I stare at the blinking cursor for a second, my thumb hovering.
Then I add:
We need to talk.
I hit send before I can change my mind.
The message sits there, delivered. No read receipt. No typing dots. No call back. Nothing.
Chapter Fourteen
MARLOWE
Something’s wrong. Someone is screaming.
It creeps into my sleep at first—the high-pitched sound, then an acrid, bitter bite that burns at the back of my throat. My lungs tighten. I cough once, then again, harder, and sit up.
It’s pitch black and the smoke alarm is screeching.
I blink, disoriented, trying to clear the fog in my head, but it’s not just in my head.
It’s everywhere.
Smoke.
Thick and choking. The air feels heavy in my mouth, like I’m trying to breathe through ash. I fumble for the lamp, my hands shaking, knocking over my water glass in the process.
The light flicks on—and the room is swallowed by it.
Billowing, black smoke curling out from under the door, hanging low above the floor, coiling around my legs as I throw back the blanket and cough so hard I almost gag.
Panic slams into me like a fist.
I can’t see the fire, but I cansmellit. I can feel the heat growing on all sides of me.
I yank my hoodie off the bedpost and press the sleeve to my mouth and nose, trying to suck air through the cotton as I crouch low. My eyes sting, my throat feels raw, and I can barely see two feet in front of me.
