me aside and explains the depth of Stella’s flying phobia, and I know I need to do something to help without embarrassing her. Five hours of peace can go a long way toward soothing a multitude of hurts, and that’s exactly what she needs right now.
After I manage to get her on the plane, and she’s tucked in and tuned in, I settle beside her and lace our fingers together. Her surprisingly strong hand relaxing its death grip on mine shortly after takeoff makes me feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. When her head droops, letting her soft cheek fall against my shoulder, I know she’s fallen asleep, and I glance up to see Sunday staring our way with an exaggerated expression of shock. My cocky smirk earns me an eye roll and a middle finger from her before she chuckles and turns her attention back to whatever’s playing on her iPad.
I managed to keep my cool and appear outwardly calm on the flight back to California because I knew Stella needed that from me. Now that we’ve parted ways and she and Sunday are on their way into town with Cecily, all my pent up anger comes pouring out.
“That dirty motherfucker!” The force of the car door slamming behind me as I practically dive into the backseat rattles the metal of the seat belt clips. “Putting his filthy hands on her? Groping her? Choking her? Do you know how badly I wanted to rip his junk off and feed it to him?” I know I’m ranting and yelling, but I can’t seem to stop. “Contrary to what the masses may think, I’m not a snob, but living the way she was?” My palm scrubs across my face, and I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “The drunk guy passed out in the stairwell, and the holes punched in the hallway walls. The asshole pervert landlord. Bro, the thought of Stella living there on her own for two goddamn years makes me want to strangle Callum Torsten with his oxygen tube. It’s his fucking fault she’s lived the way she has up until now.”
Trying to get the fury flooding through my veins under control, I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, dropping my head and closing my eyes.
“Christ, dude,” Payne says, “the urge to punch that guy’s teeth down his throat was hard for me to resist, too.” He grunts in disbelief. “What a piece of shit. He and Callum both deserve to be thrown into a hole somewhere; maybe they’d kill each other.” There’s a pause before he continues, speaking the words we both know are true. “Honestly, I’m just glad Stella decided to come home. You know Sun wouldn’t have come without her, and then you and I would have ended up fighting over that ratty ass couch,” he says, garnering a small laugh and a fist bump from me.
“Those two certainly seem to have gotten close,” my father comments from the front seat. “Catherine would’ve been happy about that, I think.”
His words are sharp, and as his eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, I’m reminded some things are going to have to be dealt with sooner rather than later. Keeping Payne out of the loop makes me feel shitty, but I have no idea how to admit the secret I’ve been carrying around. And if I can’t admit it to my best friend, how in the fuck am I going to be able to admit it to Stella? Telling my father was the single most awful experience of my life so far, and telling her will be so much worse.
Secrets are assholes, and either this one will eat me alive if I keep it, or Stella will kill me when she finds out.
I turn to Payne and awkwardly force a change of subject, essentially trying to ignore the warning in my father’s voice and silence the guilty one whispering in my head. Discussing cars and music and Raff’s latest conquest keeps me distracted until we get to the Halliday homestead. I’m relieved when my dad immediately heads inside, leaving my oldest friend and I standing in the driveway.
“Bro, what’s up? That whole random topic change wasn’t subtle in the slightest. Something’s going on with you.”
“It’s nothing. Just wired and tired. It’s been a strange couple of days.” Lying to my friends is not something I’m comfortable doing, so in an attempt to shrug it off, I grab our bags from the