Rafael,
I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to say this to your face. If I had, I never would’ve gone through with it.
But I have to go. Just for a little while. I need to make this right on my own. I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me. Not you. Not the others.
Please don’t try to find me. I’ll be okay. I promise.
—James
I stood there, the paper trembling between my fingers, heart beating hard enough to shake my ribs. He was gone. James was gone.And not just off for a walk.
Not off to work early or down the street for tea. Gone. On purpose. Alone. Even though I thought we came to an understanding last night.
“Dang it, James,” I snarled, crushing the note in my fist.
I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, thumb trembling as I dialed Callum’s number. He picked up on the second ring.
“I know,” he said, voice grim.
That stopped me. “You know?”
“James just texted me. Said he was leaving town. Said it was for our safety,” Callum explained.
I paced the length of my living room like a caged animal. “When?”
“An hour ago, maybe less. I’ve got Rowan and Cyrus checking the roads. Beau’s already out by the highway.”
“Why the hell didn’t you call me the second he texted you?” I demanded.
Callum’s voice didn’t rise. It never did. “Because I figured you were still in bed and I didn’t want to wake you unless it was confirmed.”
“Well, it’s confirmed,” I growled, my hand tightening around the phone. “He left me a note.”
“I know you’re angry.”
“Angry?” I barked out a bitter laugh. “I’m furious.”
James had promised. We talked and I assumed we’d handle it together. And now? He’d ghosted me.
“We’ll find him,” Callum said, calm and steady like always. “He may not have made it far.”
“You better update me the second you hear anything.”
“I will,” he promised. “But you need to keep your head on. This isn’t the time to go rogue.”
I ended the call before I said something I’d regret.
Then I threw the phone onto the couch hard enough that it bounced and hit the floor. It didn’t break. I almost wished it had.
Every inch of me was bristling. With hurt. With helplessness.
With the gnawing fury of someone who’d seen the person they loved walk straight into danger because they didn’t think they were worth being fought for.
I needed to do something before I broke something. So I left the house, shifted partially, and ran.
The forest behind Beau’s place was thick and damp from recent rain, but I didn’t care. I pushed through underbrush and brambles, not caring if they tore at my hoodie or scraped my arms.
I ran until my lungs burned, until my side screamed in protest, until I found the clearing where I could finally let it all out.
