And then he stopped. Shane leaned his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, our eyes still closed, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Astra," he mumbled against my lips. "Please don't hurt yourself."
And all at once, his body fell l...
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C H A P T E R F I F T Y O N E
A s t r a *.✧
"They said they were going to kill me."
I suddenly stopped, my eyes widening. "What?" I spluttered.
He turned around, a bored look in his eyes. "They said they were going to murder me. Or do something horrible."
"Dusty, that's terrible, you can't just let them-"
"The thing is, I can. Because if I don't then they really will. They're not messing around and the best thing to do right now is to play along and shut up."
"You need to go to the police-" my voice rose higher.
He shook his head. "He's probably not serious. It's an empty threat."
I brushed my hair away from my face. The wind was picking up and blowing it everywhere. Personally, if someone threatened to genuinely 'murder' me, I wouldn't consider it an empty threat. There was a fine line between a joke and seriousness. "But-"
"No buts! Just shut up and fucking stop." His eyes were dark, and he looked so angry that a vein was popping on his forehead. I took a step back away from him, feeling small under his hatred-filled glare, looking at me like I was the vilest scum to have ever walked the earth. "I should have never told you. We're not fucking friends. I just asked you to do something for me, and that's it."
I swallowed down the forming lump in my throat. I turned the corner of the road, feeling a lot of emotions beginning to build up in my chest.
I hurried back with the bag swinging in my hand, the heat rising up my arm so I could feel it. My mouth watered. I bit my lip. I rubbed at my eyes, single lone tears spilling out. I was getting emotional for no reason.
Thankfully, the house was still intact as I returned and I pushed open the door. Shane was sitting down, cross-legged as he was colouring in with Finley and Natalia. His blond hair hung over his eyes as he coloured in a pink princess using Finley's crayons, biting his lip in concentration. A faint smile played on my lips.
"Who wants food!" I sang, rustling the bag. I tried my best to forget about Dusty and instead focus on today, Finley's birthday. I could cry about it later, like tomorrow night. Sometimes you just have to fake it until you make it, or in this case, prolong it.
"Me, me, me!" Finley screamed, Natalia right behind him as they ran into the kitchen.
"Shane?" I asked, walking over to him. "Come on. You too."
He looked back, his eyes withholding an expression I couldn't decipher. One of pain and hurt, like I'd just asked him to make a life or death decision.
