“CJ.”
I look at him.
“Be careful with him.” The grin is gone now… along with the amusement.
A cold weight settles in my chest. I nod once, unable to say anything that won’t give too much away.
“People like Eli don’t scare easily because they’re weak. They scare easily because somebody taught them they should.”
The words settled heavily between us like wet concrete.
“And if he decides you’re safe,” Deck opens the door, “Don’t fuck that up.”
The door closes quietly behind him, and the weight of his words sinks into me, settling heavy and tight in my chest.
10
Eli
A month later, I’m still living with CJ. I don’t know how it happened.
It just… did. He never asked me to move in or even asked me to move out. One day he simply cleared out the wardrobe, handed me a bundle of coat hangers, and said, “You’re going to need these,” before walking out of the room. And that was it, no discussion, no big moment, just CJ quietly making space for me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I’m not complaining. CJ makes me feel safe. Seen.
A warmth settles low in my chest, unfamiliar and fragile. Safety still feels like something I’m borrowing, not something I’m allowed to keep.
He and Deck even gave me a job. I miss nursing, miss the hospital, but Campbell River has found ways to remind me who I am. The ache of missing it sits heavy beneath my ribs. Buthere, with them, I feel pieces of myself returning in ways I didn’t expect.
More than once I’ve stitched Deck back together after whatever ridiculous thing he’d gotten himself into. I still don’t know how he manages to collect injuries like souvenirs, and honestly, I don’t think I want to know.
A laugh almost escapes me, small and real. It feels good to be useful again, even if Deck’s chaos is the reason.
CJ now keeps a fully stocked trauma kit at the apartment, another at the office, and one in Deck’s truck.
I discovered that after Deck dragged me away from a café one afternoon, drove to a quiet spot by the wharf, then he climbed out, leaned against the truck, and casually announced,
“Need a few stitches. I’m in a hurry.”
Holy fuck.
What even is my life?
I’m still terrified Adrian will find me, the fear sitting under my skin like a bruise that never fades. The nightmares haven’t stopped, leaving me waking up screaming in the dark. Every time I spot a tall man with dark hair wearing a suit, my heart races. My vision narrows and my breath stutters as the world tilts, pulling me back into memories I’m desperate to escape. Cold sweat breaks across my skin until I’m lightheaded with panic. I hate it. I hate him.
Why didn’t I leave the first time he hit me?
Because I loved him.
I pull back the curtains and stare across the bay. The stillness outside doesn’t calm me. It only mirrors the heaviness pressing against my ribs.
The sky hangs low, almost giving a heavy feel to the day. And everything inside me seems to sink with it.
I don’t want to be an adult today. A hollow ache spreads through my chest. The day feels too big, too heavy, too close.
I want to crawl back into bed, disappear beneath the blankets, and pretend the world doesn’t exist.
Instead, I force myself into the shower. CJ’s apartment is always spotless. Military spotless. The order should feel suffocating, but it doesn’t. It feels steady. Predictable. Safe.
