Page 119 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“What happened?” she asked, pulling away. Her makeup was smeared, her lips swollen, and the lipstick kissed off hours ago. I couldn’t be mad at her.

All I felt was an odd sense of relief that I didn’t even know how to explain.

“I had to go down to the jail,” I said simply, pulling away and tossing open the car door. “And bail out my stalker.”

I walked past her, leaving her shocked. Her jaw dropped open in disbelief and her huge blue eyes looked up at me, so wide she looked doe-like.

“So it worked?!” she called, scrambling out of the car and hurrying after me as I pushed the front door open.

“Well, kinda,” I said. I didn’t need to tell her everything.

I didn’t need to tell her about Stephen and the things that had happened to him. Not after she’d been up all night worrying. She would find out soon enough, anyway.

“So who is it?!” she asked, hurrying past me and pushing the door closed behind me.

Part of me didn’t want to tell her, even if I didn’t know why. I didn’t want her to know. I wanted it to be our secret, but why?

“Tommy,” I said, forcing his name out before I could bite it back.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

She gasped, so long and so hard that I feared she was taking all the oxygen out of the air.

“Jeez, girl,” I snorted, tossing my purse onto the nearby table and stepping past her into the kitchen. “Leave some oxygen for the rest of us.”

“It was Tommy?! How?! I looked, he didn’t have the tattoo!”

“Well, if you think about it, it’s easy.” I pulled the fridge open and grabbed a beer, popping the cap off and tossing it into the sink. “Anyone can buy a little concealer and cover up a tattoo.”

“Tommy?!” Why did she sound way more shocked than I was? Maybe part of me had suspected it all along. “Holyshit.”

I didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t even know what to feel.

All I knew was I had a weird sense of regret that rolled in the pit of my stomach, and tears that prickled just at the edges of my vision, and I didn’t know what to do.

“I told him to leave me alone,” I said, looking down at the beer in my hand. Sighing, I reached over and placed it on the kitchen counter.

I didn’t want it. I wanted to go to bed.

Amelia was pacing now, her heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor as she tried to process the information I’d dropped on her. I could see the gears turning in her head, the disbelief written all over her face as she muttered to herself. She stopped suddenly, turning to face me with wide eyes.

“So, what now?” she asked.

I shrugged, feeling a strange sense of resignation settling over me. What the fuck was wrong with me?

“I guess we wait and see. Maybe Tommy will take the hint this time.”

Amelia nodded slowly, absorbing my words.

“Is that what you want?”

I scoffed, the bitterness rising in my throat. What did I want? I wanted to erase the memory of Tommy’s tattooed hand gripping my throat, the feel of his tongue, the way it felt with his fingers scorched my flesh, and his lips stole the breath from my lungs. But more than anything, I wanted to feel safe again.

“I don’t know what I want,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I know what I need. And that’s for him to stay away from me.”

Amelia nodded, her expression somber.

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