You’re safe in LA. Trent can’t get to you here.
Deep breaths.
Trent: I’m sorry. I’m just so worried about you. Where are you, darling? I’ll come get you.
Trent: I’m done being the nice guy.
Trent: I will find you.
I stare at the messages for a little while longer as I try to build up the courage, then, sucking in a deep breath that makes my ribs ache, I type out a reply with trembling fingers.
Nova: I’m done with you hurting me. We’re over, and I’m never coming back.
Letting out a shaky sigh, I press send and set the phone down on the bedside table.
It’s done. Trent doesn’t know where I am, so he can’t find me.
I’m safe here with Rachel.
I have to calm down and get ready for the day ahead. I have to be strong for Rachel.
After putting on a dress and ballet flats, I grab the same light sweater from yesterday and shrug it on so my bruises won’t be visible.
I walk to the door, and sneaking out of the bedroom, I do my best not to make a sound so I won’t wake Rachel and Lainey. As I make my way down the stairs, I take my time to look at each of the photos on the wall.
Easton, Rachel, and Lainey look so happy, and I can feel how much they love each other.
I learned what love was from watching Rachel and her family, and she’s the only person who’s ever truly loved me.
She’s the only one who’s never hurt me.
I don’t know who my dad is, and I was very young when my mother left me with my grandfather. I can barely remember her, but I know she had ginger hair like me, and I think she was loud and bubbly.
My grandfather is a mean recluse who never cared about me.
And now I’m going to lose Rachel.
I lift my hand to cover my quivering mouth while I fight not to burst out in tears.
When I reach the first floor, I glance around the open space, taking in the luxurious living room with the massive TV before turning my attention to the kitchen.
Feeling completely out of place, I walk into the kitchen and take a mug from the cupboard. Thankfully, Rachel showed me last night how the coffee machine works. I pick a flavor from the dozens, and putting the pod into the machine, I watch as the coffee pours into the mug.
Rachel’s dying.
Instead of knocking the wind from me like it did yesterday, the thought only makes the pit of fear and hopelessness grow in my chest.
Last night, she went to bed early. I had a good cry in my bedroom before deciding not to take a single second for granted and to cherish the time I still have with her. I’ll keep my breakdowns for late at night when I’m alone so she doesn’t see them.
When the machine is done, I remove the pod and throw it into the trash before grabbing coffee creamer from the fully stocked fridge.
God, I’ve never seen so much food.
Slowly, I shut the door and head back to the counter. I add the creamer before returning it to the fridge, and after stirring the beverage, I pick up the cup, taking a much-needed sip.
Soooo good.
While I drink my coffee, I take a seat at the island and glance around the big open space again. I’m used to small homes, and I don’t think I’ll ever grow accustomed to all this luxury and the sheer size of Easton’s house.
