“YOU DON’T BELONG TO HIM.”I whisper it like it burns. “They werehere. Inside my store.”
Elijah is silent again, but I hear his engine rev in the background—he’s already in the truck, already flying toward me.
“I’m coming. I’m two minutes out. Don’t move. Don’t touch anything. Just stay right there, please baby.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. My hands are trembling, phone slippery in my grip, tears spilling faster than I can wipe them away.
“I’m scared,” I whisper, voice cracking.
“I know, baby. But I’ve got you. No one is ever going to hurt you. I promise. Just hold on for me, okay? I’m almost there.”
I slide down onto the cold concrete, curling in on myself with the phone still pressed to my ear.
And I wait. For Elijah. For safety.
I'm so far gone—so disconnected from everything around me—that I don’t even notice when Elijah arrives.
The world is a blur. The only thing that cuts through it are his hands, gently cupping my face.
And then I look up.
His eyes are a storm—wild, fierce, and on the edge of breaking. For a moment, it feels like they might consume everything around us, including me. But instead, they anchor me.
"Hey, baby girl," he says, voice low, steady. "I’m here now. Can you get up for me?"
I can’t. I shake my head—slow, barely a movement—but it’s all I can manage.
"Okay. It’s okay. We’ll just stay here for a while."
He doesn’t hesitate. He settles behind me, arms wrapping around me from behind, pulling me into the warmth of him. His chest to my back, his breath steady against my shoulder.
He builds a shelter with his body. A place where nothing bad can touch me. A space carved out of silence and safety. Where only peace lives. Where there’s no judgment, only understanding. No noise, only him.
Because even though I know he wants answers—needs them—he doesn't ask.
He doesn’t push. He just holds me. He 's here. For as long as it takes. For as long as I need.
And that... that’s what makes me love him even more.
Even if I didn’t think it was possible to love him more than I already do.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel pulls me out of my shock.
I lift my head from where it’s tucked against Elijah’s chest, blinking through the haze, and spot two large black cars rolling up the drive. The windows are tinted, the kind that hides everything inside—and for a second, cold fear grips my chest.
I freeze.
What if it’s someone coming to hurt us?
Elijah feels the shift in me immediately. He tightens his arms around me and leans in, voice low and steady against my ear.
“Shh. Don’t worry, babe. It’s the Kingstons. I called them. They’re here to help us.”
For a second, it doesn’t feel real—like I’ve accidentally walked onto the set of a heist movie. They move with that same calm, deadly precision that always makes people whisper. Suits tailored, expressions unreadable. There’s no mistaking what they are, no matter how polished the exterior.
Elijah’s hand tightens protectively at my back.
I glance up at him. “You calledthem?”
