“Bon, it’s me,” I say as my heart begins to pound. “Bon? Are you—”
I hear her footsteps coming to the door. The quiet pads of her feet make my heart slow a little. She’s safe. She’s okay.
And when she opens the door, I sigh.
I can’t even enjoy how pretty she is in her cropped pink t-shirt or how her face softened into a smile when she saw me.
“Fucking finally,” she says. “I need to talk to you.”
Dammit, she’s smiling…
After everything she’s been through the last few days, she’s smiling…
Maybe I should have let him take me out in the elevator.
“I…” My mind blanks for a beat. I debate lying, debate throwing her over my shoulder and telling her some far-fetched falsehood just to get her to go along without arguing.
However, I’ve lied to her enough.
“I need you to pack a bag,” I say, pushing inside. “Lock the door,” I add when she closes it behind me.
I scan the room, peer behind the curtains, open her closets—
My heart is racing. He was here the whole time. He was here. How did we miss that?
Fuck, what if Lance had lived here, too?!
“What, are we running away together?” she asks, and while I know she meant it as a joke, there’s an edge to her voice that wasn’t there seconds before.
I storm into her bedroom and pull out her carry-on suitcase from the closet.
“Gem, what’s going on?” she asks from the bedroom door.
I finally look at her, and I gulp when I do. There’s a lingering fraction of fear in her eyes that makes my jaw tighten. She’s trying to keep it together, to act like my actions aren’t scaring her in the slightest.
“I need you to pack a bag, Bonnie,” I deliberately say, attempting to keep my voice even. “Now.”
She stares at me for a few more seconds, her eyes darkening as if she can hear the fright in my tone.
“Okay,” she manages, and my entire body aches at the whispered way she says it.
I straighten and thread my hands behind my head as she begins taking clothes out of her dresser.
They’re here.
They were always here.
Trevor could come back at any moment.
If he recognized me…
I have to get her out.
Every thought has me struggling more and more to keep my shit together. If something happens to her…
“Why am I doing this?” she asks.
She has to be safe.
