Page 75 of Collins
I don’t think he’s capable of hurting someone. I don’t want to believe that. But…
He’s going to pay. The words echo through my mind, relentless, refusing to loosen their grip.
Questions ricochet inside my head—a pinball I can’t control. Is Collins capable of hurting Lee? Or worse? Surely he wouldn’t go that far, wouldn’t cross a line he could never come back from.
God, I shouldn’t have told him. I should’ve buried it, locked it away, taken it to my grave.
Because if Collins ends up in jail, if his life is torn apart because of this, it will be on me. Every second of it. And I don’t think I could ever live with that kind of guilt.
This is horrible.
I temporarily accept defeat and flop onto the cool sheets. Turning my face into the crisp fabric, I inhale. And it smells like him. Everything in this house does, but this…this is different. Closer. More intimate. Santal and vetiver. It wraps around me, and somehow it makes my heart feel heavier.
The thought of losing him. I can’t.
“Please, God…” My voice barely makes it past my lips. “I just got him back.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on breathing. In and out. In and out. Trying to steady the chaos within.
I fought so hard to heal from that night. Piece by broken piece, I put myself back together. Please don’t let it all be for nothing. Because if Collins does something that takes him away from me…
I’ll never get over it. Not really. Not in any way that matters.
A door slams downstairs, sharp and sudden, ripping me from my thoughts.
I jolt upright, heart lurching into my throat.
“Collins?”
I rush to the top of the stairs. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he came back.
“Johnnie!”
I freeze.
That voice, it’s close to Collins’. Familiar, but it’s not him. Not quite.
“Hello?” My voice wavers as I glance around. “Who’s here?”
Then Campbell comes into view, and some of the panic unlodges from my chest.
He takes the stairs two at a time, urgency in every step, eyes wide and searching. When he reaches me, he stops short, scanning me from head to toe like he’s expecting to find something broken. Checking for wounds.
“Johnnie, are you okay? What’s going on?”
Now I’m the one thrown off.
“What do you mean?” I shake my head slightly, trying to catch up. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know,” he admits, breath coming fast. “Collins texted me, told me to get here, and make sure you were okay until he gets back. Said it was important.” He runs a hand through his hair, still catching his breath. “I didn’t ask questions. I just…I knew he needed me.”
My chest tightens, something warm threading through rampant thoughts. God, I love him for that, for showing up without hesitation.
“Johnnie,” he says again, softer this time, his eyes locking onto mine. “Is everything okay? Talk to me. Where did Collins go?”
We siton the couch in heavy silence, the coffee pot Campbell started the only sound as the rich, bitter aroma dances through the air.
We’ve both tried calling Collins. Over and over.
