“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 towantsomething… 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.
