The crack of knuckle on jaw pierced through the thick veil of ear-splitting music, Preston’s face lurching to the side in slow-motion, a horrifying spatter of blood spraying from his warbling lips. Through her fog, Kate watched his eyes widen, unwillingly releasing her from his grasp as he stumbled back. Small gasps echoed from the people congregating around, their distorted movements to the beat coming to a standstill. The shock that had implanted in the deep crevices of his forehead dissipated, rage washing over him, turning olive cheeks scarlet. The tension in the air was palpable, the anticipation and dread clawing in the pit of her stomach as Kate’s gaze flickered to the officer, to the voice she’d heard, ensuring they were well prepared, well equipped, for the wrath of Preston Abbot.
The tug of her stomach joined with the cinching ache in her chest, knocking the breath clean from her lungs as she caught sight of the absolute fury contorting Colto
Once again, Kate found herself tracking the well-worn carpet in the reception of the police lock-up, gnawing the nubs left of her nails as she stared at the door, heart thudding as she awaited its opening; the last thing keeping her and Colton apart. Unsettlingly happy music garbled from somewhere behind the Perspex, the receptionist irritatingly tapping her pen against the desk while her foot clunked atop the metal base of her chair. “I’m so sorry,” Paloma whispered from the seating area, her knees bouncing as she tucked her hands between them, guilt distorting her smeared make-up. “Why did you call him? Why not the police like I asked you to?” Kate hissed, unable to tear her gaze from the door, the anticipation clawing at her stomach. “There was a man standing behind me and I… I thought he was with Preston and I panicked. I texted Heath,” she mumbled. “I told him to call the police. I - I didn’t know what to do. I’m - I’m so sorry, Kate.” “I…” She s
Tilting her head to the side, Kate scrunched her damp hair with a towel; her body completely cleansed of any remnants of the night, her face red and slightly raw, her gums partially swollen, from the ferocious scrubbing she’d given herself, in the hopes of disposing of any traces of Preston left behind. Colton’s black t-shirt hung from her chest, only outlining the smooth lines of her hips as she walked toward the bed, draping the towel over the hook on the back of the door before she did so.“Are you sure you’re okay?” Colton murmured, dark eyes trying and failing to avoid the olive skin of her thighs, the shirt lifting fractionally as she swept her hair over one shoulder before clambering into the bed. He scratched the back of his neck before folding his arms across his chest, a futile attempt at preventing his hands from reaching out to touch her. “You look like you about skinned yourself.”“Gee, thanks,” Kate ro
The bed squeaked as Colton sunk in beside her; her body once again cocooned in the soft, downy fabric of their comforter. Kate sucked in a breath, sparkling eyes observing the contours of his bare chest as he shrugged down into the sheets. His biceps flexed as he adjusted himself, flapping the comforter over the back of his legs. He groaned slightly, and she stifled the giggle that threatened to erupt at his frustrations. “Get in bed much?” she teased, a smile dancing on her rosy cheeks at the playful glare he shot in her direction.He poked out his tongue, eyes crinkling closed. “It’s ‘cause you’re hogging all the covers.”“Uh-huh,” she rolled her eyes, mockingly smoothing out the material enveloping her. “It has nothing to do with your inability to get into bed like a normal person.”“Hey! I got into bed just fine, thank you. It’s the fucking sheets I’m having trouble with.&rdq
The smell of bacon wafted in from the kitchen, the gentle hum of the radio mingling with the crackling of fat in the pan and Colton’s soft singing. Kate smiled, burying her face in the pillow to hide the schoolgirl glee dancing across her features. The air felt lighter, the weight bearing down on her shoulders for so long finally lessening, giving her the chance to breathe. Leisurely, she rolled from bed, stretching out her stiff muscles, relishing in the satisfying pop of her back as she pressed her hands into the base of her spine, her head falling back to release the tightness accumulating there. Tendrils of steam twirling caught her eye, and she bit her lower lip to suppress her grin. The mug was still hot, and she cupped it in both hands as she meandered into the kitchen, watching the winged woman dance across Colton’s broad shoulders as he jiggled the frying pan.Instinctively, she rested her cup on the counter and slipped behind him, her hands crawling arou
The sofa molded around Colton’s body as he sprawled across it, sock-covered feet dangling over the arm; Kate curled in the small space between his torso and the back of the lounge, one leg hooked over his waist, her eyes – although she tried to keep them open – fluttered closed at the gentle massage of his fingers in her hair. On the rug in front of them, Florence lay on her own foldout sofa, adorned with the cheery face of Minnie Mouse – a gift from Aunt Kate and Uncle Colt for her recent birthday. Her little head turned frequently, ensuring black eyes were focused on the television, not missing any of the important parts of the movie. As much as he hated to admit it, Colton was entranced by the swirls of ice, far too invested in the story of two sisters, a dopey snowman, and a man who talked to his reindeer. Beside them, Heath rested in his armchair, the light of his phone screen emanating on his face as he checked emails. Paloma was resting in bed, her wea
Three months later. A dark haze fell over the room; the gray clouds hiding away the small sliver of sunshine attempting to peek through. Kate shifted on the maroon, pleather sofa, her attention drifting between the outdated fashion magazine in her hands and the vibrant light of the television hooked into the corner of the room. She watched the petite, blonde presenter slip onto a bar stool, scoffing as she did so with far too much ease for the skin-tight dress and sky-high heels she wore. Kate was certain she’d fall straight on her damn face if she attempted anything of the sort, even without the inefficient clothing. The click of the mahogany door derailed her train of thought, Charlie’s wispy, white hair – parted precisely and combed to perfection – becoming visible as he stepped into the waiting room. “So, does the same time next week work for you?” he asked, fiddling with the button of his tweed jacket as he glanced over his shoulder. “Do you have a set
“How the hell do you have boxes – plural – of stuff? Paloma left with two trash bags,” Colton huffed, sliding the final box from their car across the bedroom floor, watching with a wince as it skidded into Kate’s leg. “Sorry.”“Ow.” She dropped the shirt she was folding, rubbing her leg before frowning up at him. “She forgot a lot of things, and it was easier to pre-fold my clothes and put them into boxes, rather than chuck them into trash bags again.”Knowing it was best not to argue while her sweet features housed a scowl, Colton sunk onto the bed. “D’ya want help?”After spending the first twenty minutes tidying the chaos that was Colton’s clothes, his shirts and shorts scrunched and stuffed into the spaces her absence had left, the remainder of her task was relatively simple. “I’ve just got the rest of this box and the one you just brought in left,&
Three months laterPuffing out the influx of air she’d sucked in, Kate smoothed her white blouse over her stomach nervously, the silky material oddly comforting beneath her palm. The musky scent of the courthouse irritated her nostrils, old wood and leather mingled with thick clouds of cologne, emanating from the men dressed in stiff suits as they walked past her, their shoes click-clacking against the linoleum floor. Leaning back, she rested her back against the pastel yellow concrete wall, a chill radiating through her spine, as she tugged her phone from her purse. She smiled at the presence of Colton’s name on the screen and the black love heart nestled beside it.Good luck, baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can. This fucking dick is taking his sweet ass time.The memory of his crestfallen face flashed through her mind, the way his fingers had curled around the neck of his beer bottle as he jotted down the time and date for