“Yeah, baby?”
I looked at him properly. Really looked at him. My fingers traced his face as my mind tried to memorize every detail: his tired eyes, the rough stubble I love, especially when he drags his chin against my skin, that dimple that shows when his expression softens. And beneath it all, the man I love. The man I need.
I need to keep him safe.
I need to keep Deck and Finn safe, too.
The thought landed heavier each time I repeated it in my head, like I was trying to convince myself it wasn’t already decided. But it was. Somewhere inside me, the choice had already been made, even if my heart hadn’t caught up yet.
I knew what I had to do.
And it broke me apart to admit it: not cleanly or neatly. It felt like something tearing, something splitting right down the center of me while I was still lying here holding him.
Because I couldn’t let Adrian find me.
Not here. Not near them. Not anywhere that touched their lives.
If he did, he wouldn’t stop at me. He never had.
My fingers tightened slightly against CJ’s shirt, as if I could anchor myself in him for a few more seconds before I let this go. Just a few more seconds of pretending I got to stay.
But I already knew the truth. I was going to have to run.
“Maybe…” My throat tightened, the word catching like it didn’t want to leave. “Maybe I should leave.”
CJ went still: instantly still in that way he gets when something in him shifts into something sharper, more dangerous.
“No.”
“But…”
“No.”
The second time was firmer, final: like he was trying to stop the idea from even forming inside my head.
“If he can’t find me…”
“NO.”
The word cracked through the room, heavy enough that it felt like it landed in my chest like thunder.
“Don’t,” his voice dropped, shaking. “Don’t you do that to yourself.”
My breath stumbled, and my eyes burned with tears.
“But he’s after me,” my voice, small, broke on the last word. I was frightened in a way I couldn’t hide anymore.
“He’s afterus, Eli.”
I shook my head hard, as if I could dislodge the truth if I moved enough, as if I could undo what it meant.
“No.”
“Yes.”
The word wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It settled between us instead: heavy and certain, refusing to bend.
His hands came up then, cradling my face, forcing me to stay with him, forcing me to see him instead of the escape I was already building in my head. His thumbs brushed under my eyes, like he already knew I was seconds away from falling apart.
