Page 59 of Catch the Sun

Chapter 14

Max

I don’t know why I came here.

Ella is probably going to give me another head wound with her lava lamp when she spots me shirtless outside her window in the dead of night, looking like a lost, wounded animal.

A few beats pass before I finally hear the creak of her footsteps approaching. I brace myself for impact as the curtains crack and Ella appears.

She blinks.

Freezes in place.

Clad only in a white tank and faded gray sleep shorts, she stares at me, registering my presence. Processing the state I’m in. Her complexion goes ashen as she stands there, scanning me from head to toe through the dusty pane, her eyes glassed over like she sees a ghost.

Maybe I am a ghost. It’s possible my father killed me on his bedroom floor.

Hell—if that’s the case, she should feel honored I’m here. There aren’t many people I would care enough about to haunt in the afterlife. Ella Sunbury made the cut.

I stare right back at her, lost for words. Unsure what to say or how to explain myself.

Can ghosts talk?

The window draws up and she leans out, fingers curled around the sill. “Holy shit. What happened to you?”

My throat works through a painful swallow. I shake my head a little, and the slight motion causes a surge of pressure to swell behind my eyes. Dizziness claims me. I sway in place, almost tipping to the right, when Ella’s hand snakes out, catching me by the wrist and squeezing.

Worried green eyes flare and dark brows bend as her thumb dusts across my skin. “Whoa… Hey, come inside.” She gives me the smallest tug forward. “Come on. I’ll wake up my mom and we’ll take you to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Max…you’re bleeding.”

“No hospitals.” I lift my free hand and touch two fingertips to my temple. To the slash near my hairline carved into me by my father’s table lamp. My fingers come back sticky and wet. “I’ll be fine,” I murmur. “Can I…stay the night?”

It’s a dumb question. Wildly inappropriate. We’re still getting to know each other and I’m asking if I can have a sleepover in her bedroom. My eyes close briefly as I attempt to backtrack. “Sorry. I can just—”

“Get inside, will you?”

There’s no hesitation, no indecision lacing her tone. I don’t have it in me to question anything, so I accept the invitation and step forward, her hand still curled around my wrist. Her bedroom window is at ground level, making it easy enough to climb through, even with a probable concussion. Ella helps me inside, her warm hands sliding up my bare arms, steadying my shoulders and maintaining my footing while I place the soles of my mismatched shoes on her bedroom floor.

We linger for a moment as my eyes adjust to the darkened room, her palms gliding down to my biceps and her concerned expression coming more into focus with every passing second. When she steps away, it’s a careful, slow-motion pullback so I don’t collapse at her feet.

I keep myself upright and lean back against her wall. “Thanks. Sorry…I know it’s late.”

Ella moves around me and fetches her desk chair, dragging it over. “Sit.” She then rushes to the nightstand and flips on the lava lamp until the room isblanketed in a purple-pink hue. “What the hell happened to you? Did you get into a fight?”

Taking a seat, I drop my head and link my fingers behind my neck. The gesture sends more pain rippling through me, but I shove it aside, fighting the waves. “My dad. He had a night terror…thought I was somebody else and tried to knock me out with a lamp.”

“Oh my God.” Ella rushes back toward me and immediately drops between my knees, resting her hands on both of my thighs like it’s nothing. Like it’s completely natural. “You can stay here as long as you need. Mom will be fine. I’ll explain everything.”

“No, I–I just need a night. Don’t say anything to her. I’ll leave in the morning,” I rush the words out, too aware of her small hands squeezing my upper thighs. My belt is still loose, but she doesn’t seem to care. “He’s not a violent person. Something’s not right. It’s like he completely blacks out and doesn’t even recognize me sometimes.”

“Has he been to the doctor?”

I huff out what sounds like a laugh, though it’s anything but. “No. I can’t ever get him to go. McKay wants me to drop him off at some assisted living facility and never look back, but…I can’t do that. He’s my family.”

She nods like she understands, and I think she does. Falling back on her haunches, she studies me, weighing her words. “You should go to the hospital. Get checked out. You probably have a concussion.”

---