Page 25 of Creed

“Don’t,” She interrupts. “Don’t fucking call me that.” She rasps, her voice low and angry. “That nickname belonged to a girl who believed in salvation and happy endings. She doesn’t exist anymore.”

What the hell has this girl actually been through? The thought of her being hurt and taken advantage of is enough to get my blood boiling. Right now she has every right to be fucking pissed.

At me.

At Asher.

At the entire goddamned universe.

She didn’t deserve to live the life that was dealt to her and the people who she relied on most had failed her.

“Please, Collins,” I plead, “Just…just let me get you somewhere safe. If you want, you can stay with my band and me, we’re in New Mexico right now. Or…or not and I can send you anywhere you want to go, you name it, just?—”

“No,” she answers quickly, cutting me off. “I don’t need your help. Or anyone else’s for that matter.” She exhales heavily before continuing. “I made it out on my own, Creed. My life up to this moment has only proven that the only person I can rely on is me. That I can save myself. I don’t need anyone to save me. Not anymore, at least. Not Asher, and not…”

Me.

“Collins,” I breathe, wishing I could see her face. To hug her to me and reassure her that everything will be alright and that I would keep her safe.

“Look, I’m sorry about the letter I wrote.” She says quietly before hiccuping. “I—I didn’t mean to put that responsibility on you when you owe me nothing. Things that…went down in my life…they didn’t happen because of you and I shouldn’t have put that burden on you by asking for help.”

I sit in stark silence for a moment, the only sound is the rapid whooshing in my ears from my pounding heart. The silence must stretch on longer than I thought because I hear her cautiously say my name like it’s a question.

“I don’t know what to say, Collins. Except that I’m so, so sorry that we left you alone for so fucking long. I wish I could…fuck, I don’t know. What can I do, Stardust?” the nickname slips from my lips before I could stop it.

“Creed, it’s okay. There’s nothing you can do now, and that’s okay.” She coos in such a soothing tone even as her voice breaks, and it feels like a dagger in my gut. The moment throws me back to when she was just a kid who always accepted life the way it was with an understanding far beyond her years. Everyone else’s happiness and contentment was always her number one concern. If we were happy, she was happy, no matter the sacrifice. “I’m sorry to have ruined your night by causing you panic. I…um, I’ll be alright. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you called me before…” she trails off.

“Before what?” I shoot off from my bed suddenly, as if I could reach her, to keep her from saying what I think she’s going to say. “Collins?” I can’t tell if her name comes out more as a question or a warning.

She huffs another humorless laugh, then sighs, the sound defeated. I hear a woman’s muffled voice announcing seating sections for a west coast airline in the background. She’s at the airport. Then a shuffling noise comes over the phone, like she’s shifting around. “Look, I gotta go.” She pauses. “I want to thank you for listening to my words all these years. Those letters…it gave me a safe space to not feel so alone. You know, I’ll always be thankful to have known the real Creed St. James.”

“What the hell are you saying, Collins? Where are you?” I rush out, my heart pounding in my chest. I scramble for my clothes, ready to call a fucking cab to get me to the airport. “Why the fuck does it sound like a final goodbye from you?”

“Because it is.” She says, her voice resigned. Before I can get another word out, I hear more shuffling sounds before her voice sounds through my phone one last time. “Goodbye, Creed.”

“Collins, wait!” Beep. Beep. Beep. I look at my phone as the call disconnects and I curse as I dial her number again and it immediately goes to voicemail. “Fuck!”

I dial ten more times and get the same result. Trying another method, I pull up the internet browser on my phone and look up the nearest airport from Stutton and dial.

“Stone Ridge International Airport. How may I direct your call?” A woman’s voice answers.

“I need you to look up a flight passenger for me. Collins Weston?”

“Are you the ticket holder?”

“No, but?—”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t give you that information.”

“You—you don’t understand. She’s my…” what? She’s my what? I glance at the polaroid still pinched between my fingers and my stomach gives an odd twist and dip at the sight of her face. A feeling I’m sure as shit not ready to dissect right now so I file it away for later…or never. Whatever. She’s not my fucking sister that’s for sure, but this lady doesn’t know that. Just as I open my mouth to say so, the operator on the other line speaks up.

“Look, I can’t give out anyone’s information if you’re not the ticket holder or don’t have the ticket number. Unfortunately we do have a busy call queue, so if you don’t have any further questions for me, I’ll have to let you go.”

I hang up before anything else can be said and with a curse under my breath, I dial the number of the one person I haven’t spoken to in five years, hoping like fuck he’ll answer.

Chapter 12

Creed

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