Page 16 of The Star in Room 7

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. My friend came out to his parents and they kicked him out. He sofa surfed between me and some other friends for a while, until his dad found out and came around, fists flying. I stood between them and ended up with the scars to tell the tale.”

“What did he do?”

I point to the scar beside my right eye. “This was from a punch. He was wearing a huge signet ring.” And then the thin one across my forehead. “This was when he knocked me to the floor. I hit my head on the edge of a table.”

Zach winces. “And your friend?”

“I told him to run. I was terrified his dad was going to beat him up, or worse.” My chest feels hollow. “To this day, I wish I could have done things differently. I shouldn’t have tried standing up to his dad. We should have run together. I should have persuaded him to go to the cops. Anything, but let him go alone.” My voice has become rough, and my eyes prickle. My chest is tight. Even after all these years, it hurts to talk about it.

“He didn’t come back?” Zach asks.

I shake my head. “About a month later, his body was found in the river by some men who were fishing.” I stride to the box of tissues, pluck one out, and dab my watery eyes. “So, that’s why I support Halo House—why helping Angels is so important to me. It’s also the reason I got into kink. I needed a healthy release for my pain. But that’s a story for another time.”

“His dad sounds like a nasty piece of work, but it wasn’t your fault.” Zach’s voice is almost as rough as mine. His words are earnest, and there’s a fierce fire in his eyes.

I smile sadly. “Logically, I know that, but emotionally I do still blame myself. At least on some level.” I clear my throat.

“You shouldn’t.”

“We can’t always control our feelings, Zach. Sometimes they get the better of us.”

He looks away. “That’s true. Mine are getting the better of me. Thank you for being so kind and for telling me about your friend, but could we stop here? I’m tired and raw and just want some time out.”

“Of course.”

His chin wobbles. “Thank you. I haven’t found anyone I can count on since I moved to LA, let alone talk to. And my family… They’re so far away, and I don’t want to worry them, and…”

I squeeze his shoulder. “I promise you can count on me.”

5

ZACH

I almost ask Nate not to leave, if only because he’s the only solid thing in my life right now. But I don’t know him, and although he says he doesn’t want anything in return, I can’t be certain. The thing I learned fast in LA is that everyone wants something, no matter how nice they seem. So, I let him go, and then navigate my way through the unfamiliar house to room seven.

I left my phone on the bedside table. I grab it to check my messages and things, but it’s dead. My charger is in my apartment. In my bedroom. Cold dread tickles at my insides. I don’t want to go back. Not yet. Not today. I’ll go back tomorrow, before I outstay my welcome here. Right now, I need a way to charge my phone.

I leave my room and head to the lounge that Phoenix pointed out earlier. I figure it’s the best place to bump into an Angel. I don’t want to go knocking on bedroom doors. There’s one person inside, curled up on the sofa, watching cartoons on the TV. He’s slim, short, and dressed in ripped dreams and a white crop top with a Care Bear on the front—I have no idea which one. He has short, curly, warm mid-brown hair and thick brows. He’s wearing a daisy chain in his hair and is cuddling a teddy bear. He has large, striking sky-blue eyes and a delicate silver hoop in his right nostril. He’s clean-shaven, but with an ever-so-slight shadow.

“Hi,” I say.

“Oh, hi! I haven’t seen you around before. You must be new.”

“I got here last night.”

He bounces to his feet. “I’m Puck. That’s not my real name. I don’t like my real name. It’s too… not me. They/them, by the way.”

They do have Puckish energy and fae vibes. I remember studying A Midsummer Night’s Dream in secondary school. Puck was one of my favorite characters. I assume that’s where they’ve got the name from.

“I’m Zach.”

They flick their gaze over me. “Yes, yes, you are.”

Does that mean Puck recognizes me? I half shake my head, not wanting to read too much into their statement.

They tilt their head, dark eyes wide. “No, you’re not? Because you suit your name.”

Does that mean they don’t recognize me?