Emerson huffed. “Some friends they are.”
I walked to the kitchen, grabbing the trash can. “Tell me about it. If she’s fine when she wakes up, and nothing happened, we’re going to have a very serious conversation. A serious conversation about responsible drinking and better buddies to go out with. And safety. Lots of safety.”
Star looked absolutely peaceful where she lay. Her hair had fallen over her face, cresting just over her eyes and nose, her mouth scrunched up a bit while she slept. I dusted my thumb over one of her rosy cheeks, trying to calm the insistent thump in my ribcage. I had a hundred thousand questions I wanted to ask her, but I’d have to wait until she woke up to get the answers to them.
Taking a seat by her legs on the couch, I looked toward Emerson. “Were there people in the room when you got there?”
“No, there weren’t. Nobody was even at the door.” He was sitting in the chair beside us, his hands clasped in front of him.
Emerson wore a plain T-shirt and what looked like basketball shorts. I could see a peek of a tattoo just on the side of his calf, black ink wrapping around it. His calves werenice. All muscled and toned and just plain nice. I hadn’t seen him out of his uniform before without all of his gear. It was different, to say the least. Of all things, he had to be incredibly fucking built. Musclesstrained the sleeves of his shirt, and I couldn’t see any more tattoos on him. “Did you get any weird looks?”
When he laughed, his dimples and bright, imperfect smile stole the show. “Plenty. I don’t think people expect to see a forty-three-year-old man waltzing into a college house party at three in the morning.”
“Thank god you didn’t wear your uniform, or it would’ve been pure chaos.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have. The moment I heard your voice, I jumped up and got dressed. I’m really glad you called me.”
Now it was just weird. That feeling came back—like the walls were closing in on me. Walls that were inside of me, as if all of my bones and organs were falling into each other to crush me from the inside out.
The idea that I’d called him all freaked out like that made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like people seeing me like that. Any kind of people, but especially strangers, even if they’d seen me at my worst already. “Well, thanks for answering. I can handle it from here if you want to go home. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
“Eh, I’m already up, and I’m off tomorrow, anyway. Besides, I have a lot of experience in taking care of very drunk people. I don’t mind sticking around if you don’t mind me being here.”
And risk him seeing further into my tattered soul? I didn’t like the thought, even if the company sounded nice. “I mean, I’ll be fine either way.”
“Like I said, I don’t mind. You, on the other hand, look exhausted. If you wanted to go to bed, I could take care of her here.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You say that, but the bags under your eyes say different. And your shirt is on backward. So, I think it’s safe to say you’re at least a bit worn out, or will be when you come down from the anxiety.”
I looked down, realizing the tag was indeed in front of me instead of behind. I also realized that I wasn’t wearing a turtleneck. I was wearing the exact opposite, actually. All I had on was a ratty tank top I’d found during my moment of desperation and panic, meaning Emerson could definitely see the scars on the side of my neck if I’d turned my head.
There was a thin line between being exposed and exposing myself. I didn’t want to remind myself of that night any more than I had to, and I definitely didn’t want other people to see what mark had been placed upon me for my misdeeds. Could he see the permanent purple handprints wrapped around my throat, with each curve and groove of Jude’s prints etched into my skin? I did. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw it.
The darkness in my eyes and soul. The scrapes and digs of skin Jude left, whereas Sarah never got the chance to leave her mark on my physical body. No, she never scarred my skin, but she’d scarred my soul right along with Jude. Two souls taken by my hands.
Two evil, awful souls who deserved it. Right? They deserved it, and I was willing to do it again, though I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about it. How Jude’s eyes didn’t immediately become void of life, but rather slowly disappeared from his pupils. I hated it. Despised it. Fucking loathed that I carried the evil in their hearts right along with the matching evil in mine.
Never taking my eyes off the floor, I nodded slowly. “You know what? Yeah, I think I’ll go to bed. Thanks. Remote is on the coffee table; help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”
Emerson, the man he seemed to be, simply took my place on the couch right by Star. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. I didn’t turn my head or even try to claw my way out of the cage of bones my skeleton was trying to use to keep me hostage.
I simply walked back into my room, lay back in my bed, and tried to pretend like everything was fine. Nothing else in the world existed. My past wasn’t my past. My sister wasn’t in my living room, passed out drunk. I hadn’t killed two people, and I didn’t just agree to let some stranger stay in my house tonight. God, what I wouldn’t do to feel better, yet at the same time, I felt like my wallowing was deserved. Maybe it was a punishment from the universe for overstepping the human ethical bounds. Or maybe I was always meant for a life of being locked away in a cell of my own making.
Chapter Five
I loved findingirony in the small things. Like standing on Moon’s balcony, staring up at the full moon in the sky, surrounded by millions of twinkling stars. The sky was so bright, the moon the center point of all the gorgeous stars surrounding it. Yet if I turned around, I’d peer through the sliding glass door and see Star passed out on Moon’s couch, and Moon would still be nowhere to be found, his light dim and dull as he’d trailed to his room earlier.
One thing that’d always fascinated me about stars was how they surrounded each other, and how rare it was for any two to collide with each other. Some would be right next to each other until they died, though they’d never touch. They’d never brush against each other; instead, they orbited faster together.
I looked down at the tattoo on my calf, smiling at it. One beta fish, positioned in half of a circle. Harrison had the other beta fish, its head turned in the opposite way of mine, completing the circle for us. We thought it was such a cool idea back when we were in our twenties, and now it only made me feel the grief deeper.
Two fish, always chasing the other’s tail in a circle, never to fully meet. Now, after his death, there was only one. One lonely, lost beta, forever chasing the other half it’d never have again.
A stray drop of rain fell onto the metal railing in front of me. I watched it splatter against the surface, and barely a moment later, more drops fell, pattering against the balcony cover. It seemed we were in season for random rain.
Once I walked back into the apartment, I made sure Star was still sleeping soundly. Well, maybe not soundly, seeing as she was snoring like a freight train, but the trash can looked empty, so she must not have woken up yet. I passed by her to find the bathroom Moon hadn’t pointed out to me before he left. There were only a few other doors in the apartment, the majority of them looking like closets or some other storage space.
