Elliott frowned, the muscles of his jaw ticking. I could see the conflict in his eyes. "Come with me. I can keep you safe."
A tear spilled down my cheek. "You have to leave, Elliott, or I can't see you anymore."
Elliott's bottom lip trembled with anger. He tried to see behind me one more time. "Go straight to your room and lock the door."
"I will. I promise."
"I'll be here first thing in the morning."
"Okay."
Elliott turned on his heel and ran down the porch steps. He jumped over the gate, sprinting home.
I closed my eyes, feeling more tears wet my face. I wiped them away and turned to face Duke. He was still breathing hard, still glowering at me.
"Keep him away from here, Catherine, or I'll make him disappear."
I pushed through my fear and walked toward him, pointing at his stained button-down. "You won't go near Elliott, do you hear me? I'll leave. I'll leave and never come back if you lay a finger on him!"
Duke was surprised, blinking and fidgeting, unsure how to respond.
"The Juniper can't keep going without me. You do what I say," I hissed. "Go to bed!" I commanded, pointing upstairs.
Duke smoothed his tie and then backed away, turning for the stairway. He climbed slowly, reaching the top and turning right toward his room down the hall. When I heard his door slam shut, I hurried upstairs and into my room, then pushed my bed against the door and sat on the mattress for extra weight.
I covered my mouth, both mortified and afraid. I'd never spoken to Duke that way, and I wasn't sure what would happen now. He was the most intimidating of the guests, and his failure to frighten me into submission meant uncertainty. I worried someone new and more frightening would come to keep me in line.
The dresser scraped against the floor as I pushed it against my door. Just as I positioned myself to move the bed, a strange noise gave me pause.
Plink, plink.
I froze.
Plink.
The sound was coming from my bedroom window.
I walked over, noticing Elliott in the perfect circle cast by one of the remaining streetlamps. I raised my window, smiling down at him.
"You okay?" he called.
I nodded, wiping my face. "I'm sorry. I hate that you saw that."
"Don't worry about me. I can help you down if you want. You don't have to stay there."
"I'm in my room. The door's locked. I'm safe."
"Catherine."
"You know I can't," I said.
"I didn't know it was this bad."
"It's not bad. I'm fine."
"I don't know what that was, but it wasn't right. I'm worried about you."
"You have to trust me," I said.
Elliott dropped the rocks in his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm terrified I'm going to hear that something's happened to you. I'm afraid of what you said, about not being able to see me anymore. What kind of choice is that?"
"A real one." I looked behind me. "You should go."
"I can't," he said.
I felt the tears come again. Life at the Juniper was getting worse. Something dark was building inside, and I didn't want Elliott to get caught in it. Him being unable to leave me was going to get him hurt--or worse.
"Please don't," I said. "I can handle this."
"I should call someone. At least let me talk to Aunt Leigh."
"You promised," I said.
"That's not fair. You shouldn't have asked me to promise something like that."
"But I did. And you did . . . and you're breaking it."
"Catherine," he begged. "Let me come up. I can't leave after seeing what I saw."
When I didn't protest, he took a running start, climbing up the side of the house and into my window. He stood with his hands on his hips until he caught his breath.
I looked back at my door. "You shouldn't be here!" I hissed. It was the first time someone other than a guest, Tess, or Mama had been inside since Dad was taken away in the ambulance.
He stood, towering over me, then looked around. "Lightning didn't strike. I'll be quiet." He turned to close my window and then took a few steps. "Has this changed at all since you were a little girl?"
I shook my head, trying not to panic. Mama would be furious if she knew. She was more protective of the Juniper than she was of me.
"You shouldn't be here," I whispered.
"But I am, and unless you kick me out, I'm staying."
"Your aunt will freak out. She might say something to Mama."
"I'm eighteen." He looked past me and frowned. "Why is your dresser against your door?"
I peered up at him.
"Catherine . . ." His eyes roamed over me, desperate to protect me from whatever made me so afraid that my furniture was barricading the door.
"Okay," I said, closing my eyes. "Okay, I'll tell you, but you can't stay. I don't want you feeling sorry for me. I don't want your pity. And you have to promise not to tell. Not your aunt, not anyone at the school. No one."
"It's not pity, Catherine, I'm worried."
"Promise."
"I won't tell anyone."
"Duke never comes in here, but sometimes Mama does, or Willow, or Poppy, or my cousin Imogen. Mama won't let me drill holes in the wall for a lock, so I use the bed to keep them out."
Elliott frowned. "That's not okay."
"They just come in to talk. They wake me up in the middle of the night sometimes. It's unsettling. I fall asleep better with my bed against the door." After a beat, I nudged him toward the window. "Okay, I told you. Now go to the party."
"Catherine, I'm not going to that stupid party. I'm staying here and keeping you safe."
"You can't be with me all the time. Besides, I've handled this for over two years. Just because you know doesn't mean anything has changed. I don't want both of us missing things because of this place, now go."
"Catherine . . ."
"Go, Elliott. Go, or I can't do this with you. I can't carry around that guilt, too."
Elliott's face fell, and he turned toward the window and crawled out, closing the window behind him. He pressed his fist against the glass, holding up his I love you sign. I did the same.
Happy birthday, I mouthed.
After Elliott crawled down, I opened my bottom drawer and pulled out my dad's favorite Oklahoma University T-shirt. It was thin and had a couple of small holes, but it was the closest I could be to him after something so frightening. I rolled it up and lay in my bed, hugging it to me. The shirt hadn't smelled like him in a long time, but I remembered, and I tried to visualize him sitting on the end of the bed, waiting for me to fall asleep like he did when I was little. Before long, I was drifting off, but it wasn't Dad I felt was keeping me safe in that space between awake and asleep. It was Elliott.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elliott
I buttoned up my letterman jacket and shoved my hands in my pockets. The bonfire was twice my size, but the freezing rain that was drizzling made it hard to ward off the cold. Everyone except the football players was already drunk by the time Sam and I had arrived, but the team was taking swigs from tequila bottles to catch up.
I ducked my head when the wind would blow, tucking my chin into the top of my wool jacket. Sam jumped up and down and bounced from one foot to the other to keep the blood flowing. "I'm going to ask Scotty for a shot. He brought a bottle of Fireball. You want some?"
I frowned. "This is miserable. I'm going back to Catherine's."
Sam's eyebrows shot up. "You go inside?"
"I did tonight."
"How did her mom feel about that? I thought she didn't allow anyone in but family and guests."
I shrugged, looking down. "I climbed up the lattice to her window. She let me in long enough to kick me out."
"Uh-oh. Did you get into it?"
I felt my eyebrows pull in. "Not really. It was kind of like what you said. She doesn't want to be responsible for keeping me from this. She's never been to a party bef
ore. She clearly thinks it's something different."
A group was chanting across the fire. Another keg stand.
"Elliott," Tatum said, raking her wet hair back. "I didn't think you'd come."
"I'm not staying long," I said, looking past her to the activity at the keg.
"Did you want a drink? I brought--"
"No, thank you. I need to talk to Scotty about something," I said, leaving Sam alone with Tatum.
"Hey," I said, tapping Scotty's shoulder.
"It's the birthday boy!" Scotty said. The liter of Fireball was already half gone. He was weaving but smiling. "Wanna shot? Let's do shots!" He took a swig.
"Nah, I'm good," I said. He couldn't feel the cold, so he was farther from the fire. I began to shiver, so I took a few steps back, bumping into Cruz Miller. He was holding hands with Minka.
"Watch where the hell you're going, Youngblood," he spat. He was drunk but not as drunk as Scotty, who stepped between us like we were about to fight.
"Hey, hey, hey . . . it's Elliott's birthday," Scotty slurred. "Don't be a dick to him on his birthday."
"Where's Catherine?" Minka asked, smug. "Couldn't she come? Or did she have to clean toilets or something?"
"Shut up, Minka," I said dismissively.
"What did you just say?" Cruz asked. He was more than a foot shorter than me, but he was the star of the wrestling team, his ears and nose all jacked, his neck as thick as his head.
"Elliott," Sam said, standing next to me. "Is there a problem?"
More of the wrestlers stood next to Cruz, prompting Scotty to sober up enough to signal the team to gather behind me.
"Say it again, paint sniffer," Cruz said.
All the muscles in my body stiffened. It had been a long time since someone had attacked my heritage, but that's what it always came down to, the easiest insult for mouth breathers like Cruz.
I closed my eyes, trying to calm down, hearing Aunt Leigh's voice in my head telling me to control my anger. "I'm not fighting you, Cruz. You're drunk."
Cruz laughed. "Oh, you can insult my girlfriend, but you're not going to fight me? You might be big, but you're slow."
Sam smiled. "You haven't been to any of our games this year, have you, Cruz?"
"And what?" Cruz asked. "He's hot shit now? He can't even get a normal girl; Catherine's a freak."
The wrestlers laughed.
"Shut up. Right now," I said through my teeth.
"Oh, you can talk shit to my girl, but Catherine is off-limits, huh?" Cruz said.
"Catherine hasn't done anything to you. She hasn't done anything to any of you," I said, feeling myself close to snapping.
Sam cupped my shoulder, pulling me back a few inches. I hadn't realized I was leaning forward.
Minka hugged Cruz's arm. "You don't know what she's done. But you will. Catherine is just using you."
I made a face. "For what?"
"For a while, like she does everyone else."
"Everyone else," I said. "Her dad died, Minka. They started a new company. And you feel snubbed? It's a good thing she doesn't have you as a friend anymore. Talk about selfish . . ."
"Catherine's a great friend to Maddy," Sam said. "Maybe she just got tired of your annoying chipmunk voice. I know I would."
Minka's mouth fell open, and Cruz swung at Sam. That's when it happened. That's when I snapped. I grabbed Cruz, threw him to the ground, and whaled on him. Minka was screaming in the background, the football players and wrestlers yelling above me, at times someone would pull on my coat, but everything else was a blur. I couldn't feel the pain in my knuckles when my bones crashed against the bones in Cruz's face, but I could hear it.
I wasn't sure how much time had gone by when my teammates finally pulled me off Cruz. He was lying on the ground, his face a bloody mess. Minka was crying, and the wrestlers were looking at me like I was a monster.
The football players patted me on the back like I'd just won us another game.
"We should go," Sam said, dazed.
Scotty was trying to congratulate me, but I yanked away from him. "Get off me!" I screamed in his face.
"Sorry, man . . . I just . . ."
I didn't hear the rest of his sentence or if he'd even finished it. Sam followed me to the Chrysler, and we both slammed our doors at the same time. I gripped the steering wheel, noticing the blood oozing from my knuckles.
"Freakin' asshole! Jesus! You okay, Elliott?" Sam asked.
I was shaking, still trying to calm down. "Just . . . give me a second."
Sam nodded, staring forward. "I can drive if you want."
I shook my head and twisted the ignition. "I'm going to drop you off. I have somewhere to be. I have to see Catherine."
Sam frowned. "You sure you want her to see your hands like that? Might freak her out."
I sighed. "She's going to hear about it at school on Monday anyway. She might as well hear it from me." I slammed the car into reverse and stomped on the gas, then peeled out of the dirt plot we'd all parked on. I was glad we'd gotten there last. Otherwise, I would have been blocked in.
Sam didn't talk much on the way to his house, and I was glad. The voices in my head were so loud, any other noise would have been too much. I worried about what Catherine would say, about what Aunt Leigh would say. In seconds, all the hard work I'd done to control my anger over the years went poof.
Sam patted the top of the Chrysler when he got out. "Thanks for saving my tail back there. Call me tomorrow."
I nodded and then turned my car toward Juniper Street.
Catherine's light was still on when I pulled up, making adrenaline shoot through my veins all over again. I wasn't sure if she'd understand or be angry or scared. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the seat. She didn't freak out when she saw me punching the oak tree, but that was a long time ago. She's been through a lot since then. Still, I couldn't put it off. I didn't want her to hear from anyone but me.
I walked across the street and jogged to the side of the house next to the Fentons' dirt plot, picking up speed as I got closer to the lattice. I climbed up, feeling the grit from the shingles scrape my palms.
Catherine was curled up in a ball, holding something gray to her chest. She'd slept with the light on. Guilt washed over me, and I felt anger boiling in my blood again. I took a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down before I tapped on the window with my finger.
Catherine stirred and then sat up, startling at the sight of me crouching next to her window. I waved with a forced smile, feeling guilty again that I'd scared her.
She looked over her shoulder at the door and then padded over to the window, lifting it up. She breathed out a white puff of air as I climbed past her and then closed the window.
She was already frowning, immediately seeing my hands. "What happened?"
"I went to the party," I said.
"Are you okay?" she asked, gently looking over my hands. "Let's get these cleaned up."
Catherine led me to the bathroom, turning on tepid water and running it over the dirt and blood. She knelt down and then stood, holding a bottle of peroxide. "Ready?" I nodded, and she squirted the clear liquid onto my wounds. I sucked in a breath, watching as it turned light red and escaped down the drain. She bandaged my skin with what she had and then led me to the bed.
We sat down carefully, waiting after it squeaked to see if we'd woken anyone.
"Tell me," Catherine said.
"Cruz Miller."
"Oh," she said, understanding in her eyes.
"I think he was there looking for a fight. Minka mouthed off, and he defended her when I told her to shut up."
"About me?" she asked, her face crumbling. "This was about me."
"It's not your fault, Catherine," I said with a frown. I knew she'd blame herself.
"You can't even enjoy one party . . . on your birthday . . . because you get into a fight defending me."
"I'd do it again."
"You shouldn't have to," she s
aid, standing. She paced back and forth, her long nightgown swaying between her legs. She stopped, looking at me, resolution on her face.
"Don't say it. Don't you dare say it to me right now," I said. "I can deal with a lot of stuff being thrown at me, but not that."
Her eyes glossed over. "I'm not good for you. It's not fair what's happening to you. You're the star quarterback. Everyone would love you if it weren't for me."
"I only care about one person loving me." I paused. "Catherine?" I rubbed the back of my neck. "You're going to hear at school on Monday that I lost my shit. I kind of did. I don't remember a lot of it. Cruz is pretty messed up."
"What are you saying?"
"Everyone looked kind of scared of me when I left. Even Sam."
She stared at me, not saying anything for several seconds. "You lost your temper? Like when you punch holes in doors?" I nodded. "I thought you didn't do that anymore?"
I sighed. "I don't know what happened. I snapped."
She sat next to me, holding my hand, careful not to touch my knuckles. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."
"Can I stay?" I asked.
She nodded, lying down on the bed. I lay next to her, and she hooked her arm over my middle, resting her cheek against my chest. The gray piece of fabric fell off the bed, landing quietly on the floor, but Catherine didn't seem to notice. Instead, she hung on to me tight until her breathing evened out and her entire body relaxed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Catherine
On Monday, after the final bell rang, I gathered my things and headed to my locker. Cruz wasn't at school, and Minka wouldn't even look at me in the few classes we had together. It was like an alternate universe. The week before, we couldn't walk down the hall without someone trying to get Elliott's attention. Now he got the same curious or disgusted expressions usually reserved for me.
Elliott was quiet on the way to the Juniper, but he kept his hand in mine, occasionally squeezing it, I assumed when he had a thought he didn't want to say out loud.
"Thank you for the ride home," I said to Elliott as I pushed the passenger door open against the wind. "You okay?"
"Don't worry about me, I'm fine. I'll be back right after practice."
I closed the door, and he held up his hand, his index and pinky pointing up, his thumb extended. I did the same before turning to walk toward the Juniper.
My hair blew against my face, helping to keep the cold from blasting my cheeks, but it wasn't just the blast of freezing wind rushing my steps to the door. Elliott wouldn't leave until I was inside, and he couldn't be late for practice.