My stomach turns, my pulse loud in my ears. The danger I'm in mounts, recognition shuddering down my spine.
I take a different tack, try to keep my voice calm and even. At my sides, my hands fidget, my fingers twisting around my keys, readying them into a weapon. "Carlin, I really need some, um, time to myself. It's just been a lot, and I wanted to be alone for a bit."
"Let's see how you feel after dinner. Come on, everybody has to eat."
I bump into a dining chair. "Grey's going to be back soon."
At that, he smiles, but there's no joy in it. "Oh, no--he won't be back for hours. He's at your parents' house."
The air whooshes out of me. "My parents?" Did he come to get me? I should have called him. I should have fucking called him. Then I frown. "Wait--how do you know where he is?"
"I always know where he is," he says calmly. "I always know where you are, too."
My phone buzzes in my purse, and I jump. His eyes flick to my bag. And for a second, we're hung in a moment's hesitation.
And then I run.
I grab the chair I bumped into and throw it between us, but I don't hear him fall as I sprint for the door. I'm reaching for the knob when his hand clamps my arm and pulls. With a roar, I spin around, keys in my fist, the metal point jutting out from between my fingers, but it's all too fast to aim. I hit him in the chest, and he grunts, his grip loosening a little. Enough. I kick him in the knee, but I only get a few steps before he lunges for me in a desperate grab, catching me with both arms, pinning mine to my side.
Like I learned in self--defense class, I drop my weight, going limp, and unprepared, he loses his balance. I drive my elbow back as hard as I can into his ribs, and he loses his grip completely, but both of us hit the ground. I scramble up, taking off for the back door, not looking back, my eyes locked on the doorknob. I don't know how far behind me he is, can't hear anything over my ragged breath and noisy pulse.
Almost there, almost--
My hand is on the doorknob, the door opening just a sliver, just a crack, hope springing in me, lost in the same moment he grabs me, yanking me back violently.
The door slams shut.
"Why'd you have to go and do that?" he pants in my ear, dragging me toward the table as I thrash. I dropped my keys somewhere in the living room, my glasses too. I have nothing else on me. He dumps me in a dining chair and grabs my wrists before I can fight him, pulling them behind me. He's so strong, so much stronger than I realized as he zip ties me to the rungs of the old, thrifted chair, breathless and angry. "I didn't want to have to do this."
"Why?" I shout, my voice frayed. "Whyare you doing this?"
"I hoped you'd sit with me, talk to me. We've never talked, not about us."
"Us?" I snap as he drops to his knees at my side, and I try to kick at him, but he snatches my ankle and binds me to a chair leg. "What do you mean, us? I'm with Grey. I love Grey."
He flashes his teeth, his eyes wild. "Why would you fucking say that? How could you say that tome? I've always had your back, Molly--always.I've always been here for you. I havealways been here." With a huff, he moves around my back to my other leg. "From the very beginning, from the first time we ever met--" He struggles to get my ankle as I kick, my foot connecting with his chest. He lets out an oof, but that was my one shot--he clamps my ankle and forces it do the chair leg. "It was perfect. We love all the same things. We're the same age. We make each other laugh and smile and feel good." When I'm fully restrained, he stands, running a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath. I'm fighting the zip ties, the plastic cutting into my wrists, but I barely feel it. He notices, bends to put his hand over my wrists gently and kiss the top of my head. "Don't fight it, babe--you'll hurt yourself."
I bite back the nastiest fuck you I have ever screamed. I can't make him mad. I don't know what'll happen if I do.
I try and calm down when he disappears for a second, coming back with my glasses. He's cleaning them off with his shirt, watching me.
"I've been waiting for this, for you," he says, checking the lenses before situating them back on my face. "Before him, I thought we were almost there, you know? Didn't think coach would make a move. "He pushes in my chair and takes the seat catty-cornered to mine, then begins to dish out food. The smell of it makes my stomach turn. "He fucked up my whole plan. And then you were together all the time. I couldn't see you anymore, not without him around. We couldn't talk. Aboutus."
There is no us!I fight to keep my face neutral and my mouth shut. My phone is buzzing in my purse, I can hear it from here. So can he--his gaze cuts in that direction, annoyed.
"So I started to come by, do little things for you. Check on the place, Scout, just make sure everything was good. But you just kept getting further and further away from me. I really thought it was just a matter of time, you know? I tried so hard to be patient," he says, almost to himself. "When you two started spending all that time together, I told myself it was nothing, just friends. But then you told me you were together. That kiss at the game…" He shakes his head, jaw flexing. "Everyone was talking about it. So I made sure they kept talking. Added a few details here and there, made it sound bad, then worse."
My stomach turns. The whispers. The looks. It was him.
"And it worked for a while, right? You broke up. I thought--finally. Finally she sees it." His eyes find mine, raw and desperate. "But then you got back together. After everything, you just…you just went right back to him."
He picks up his fork, pushes his food around the plate.
"And then you came to The Horseshoe together. I had to watch him touch you, watch the two of you come out of that bathroom together, and I knew. I knew exactly what happened, and I knew exactly what to do with it."
The library rumor? He couldn't have. He wouldn't.
"Tell me…" My words are strangled. "Please, tell me you didn't start the rumor about the library."
