And I know.
They dream it too.
Chapter 10
He Always Knows
Summer
For the first time in months, I almost feel like myself.
My laughter is clumsy—brittle at the edges—but it’s still laughter, and it tumbles out of me until my ribs ache. Constance rolls her eyes at Adelaide’s story about the guy who tried to take her home in his rusted pickup, and Adelaide nearly spits coffee back into her mug.
We talk in circles—gossip I’ve missed, names from school, the latest Rosefield scandals. An hour slips away, and my jaw hurts from smiling. This is why I need them. Constance and Adelaide drag me out of the dark corners of myself. They remind me there are still pieces of a world untouched by Jacob.
Constance leans against the arm of the couch, curls frizzing around her face, eyes bright with mischief.
“Okay, what’s got you smiling like that? You look like a girl with a secret.”
I shrug, but warmth creeps into my cheeks. “Just memories. You two. The way we were.”
Adelaide snorts. “Please don’t tell me you’re about to bring up Patrick Pockface again. I still have nightmares about how obsessed you were with him sophomore year.”
I groan, laughing into my sleeve. “God, I’d forgotten about him—until now.”
“Forgotten?” Constance arches a brow. “I saw him last week. You wouldn’t recognize him. No acne, grown a beard. He’s actually—dare I say—hot.”
Adelaide gasps. “Don’t lie. Don’t you dare.”
“Swear on my aunt’s grave.”
Their banter is so easy, so light, I almost forget everything else. Almost.
But then the smile slips before I can catch it. My chest tightens. Jacob floods my mind—last night, the way he pressed my thighs apart until I thought I’d shatter from terror and wanting.
Then Benny. His hands. His voice. His words.
The thought curdles inside me, and I must wear it on my face because Adelaide stops mid-sip.
“What is it?” she asks softly.
My mouth opens before I can stop it. “There was this guy. At the bar. A stranger.” I let out a weak laugh, shaking my head like I can shake him out of me. “I thought it would be the worst night of my life, sitting there with Jacob. But then he asked me to dance. His name’s Benny. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since.”
Constance’s brows knit. “You danced with this guy? With Jacob there? And he’s still alive?” She laughs—if only she knew the real Jacob. If the bar had been empty, he would’ve skinned Benny alive and made me watch.
“I know. It was reckless. But the way he looked at me—it felt like he saw me. Not Jacob’s possession. Not some trophy.”
Adelaide sets her mug down, eyes glimmering with something dangerously close to hope. “Tell me everything. Was he gorgeous?”
“Tall. Dark hair. Built like he knows what real work is. He sings, plays guitar. He….” I hesitate, then press on because I need to say it out loud. “He made me feel free for three minutes. Like I could walk off that dance floor and never look back.”
Constance doesn’t smile. She leans forward, voice low. “And what did Jacob do?”
“He watched. Didn’t stop it. Not until later.” I bite my lip. “But the next day… Benny showed up at the house.”
Adelaide exhales, romantic. Constance mutters, “Christ, Summer. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? If Jacob knew?—”
“He does know,” I whisper. “He has surveillance around the property.”
