Page 51 of When The Mountains Held Us

Levi’s eyes flash at the admission. At what I’ve revealed to him.

I should be ashamed, embarrassed at admitting this to him, but his protective nature, and sheer determination to keep me safe, has me throwing caution to the wind and rethinking my feelings.

“It’s settled then. I’ll give Justin a call and have him meet us there. And Oakley?”

I turn to face him from where I’ve moved to head upstairs and get dressed for the day, a question in my eyes.

“I won’t tell him anything. He doesn’t need to know what’s going on. Yet.” He moves to stand in front of me, and I peer up at him, his eyes holding mine as I stand in rapt attention, soaking in his every word. “But the minute things take a turn for the worse, I will do whatever I need to do to keep you safe. Consequences be damned.”

He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, and I melt under the intimate touch. Tears threaten at the corner of my eyes as I turn away from him and head for the stairs.

Back in the bedroom, I dress quickly, leaving my sleep clothes in a pile in the corner. I throw my keys in my purse and slip into a pair of flip flops before descending the stairs again.

I find Levi waiting for me by the door, his keys in hand. Bandit lifts a sleepy head from the couch at my arrival, and I give him a quick scratch behind the ears before following Levi out the front door.

We circle the block when we get into town, the truck moving slowly down the streets, Levi’s eyes alert and scanning the sidewalks and parked cars as we drive. When we’ve completed our third circle, he parks the truck next to my car in the motel parking lot, seemingly content with whatever he did or didn’t find in his search.

Honestly, this whole situation is fucked, but there is so much gratitude in my heart for this man. He’s obviously taking this very seriously. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. God knows the police never took it seriously the handful of times they were called by concerned neighbors over the short period of time my ex and I were together.

Justin pulls up next to us a moment later, a goofy grin plastered to his face as he climbs out of his truck and pulls open my door for me.

“Good morning! Hear you’re moving out.”

His boyish charm and easygoing words make me laugh and bring a levity to an otherwise shitty situation.

“Yeah. Getting an upgrade, apparently,” I say, gesturing to the dingy motel before us. I’m seeing it in a different light today, noticing the rundown nature and general wear and tear I’d so easily overlooked in my desperate attempt to find anywhere to stay after losing out on the apartment. My cheeks pink in embarrassment as I take in the outside of the motel. I’m embarrassed at the fact that I allowed myself to live here, and that Justin is now seeing this side of things, but his face holds absolutely no judgment.

“I’ll warn you though. This one,” he throws a thumb over his shoulder at Levi, who’s rounding the front of the truck to meet us, “is a grump in the mornings. My advice? Get the coffee brewing early.”

“She’s not a housekeeper, asshole. I can make my own coffee,” Levi interjects with a light shove to Justin’s shoulder, who cackles in response.

I can’t help but grin at the exchange as I walk towards the motel room door. Levi and Justin follow close behind me, still bickering in the way that only years of friendship can make look effortless. The dejected number on the face of the door greets me as I slide the key into place and push my way through.

It’s funny, really.

The room looks no different than when I left it yesterday morning. The only thing that’s changed is my knowledge that this space has been violated.

I’ve been at Levi’s for less than twenty-four hours, and already this motel room feels like something out of a long-forgotten memory, Levi’s house feeling more and more like home the longer I stand and take in my surroundings.

“Let’s be quick about this,” Levi murmurs in my ear, and the words jar me from my wandering thoughts as I reacquaint myself with the whole reason we’re here. He doesn’t need to explain the reason for his insistence that we pack up quickly and get the hell out of here.

While I don’t feel threatened right now, Travis has clearly proven himself to be unpredictable, and I, for one, have no interest in sticking around long enough to find out whether or not he’s grown even bolder since last night.

The three of us make quick work of packing my meager belongings, not allowing ourselves the few extra minutes it would take to carefully pack each item, instead, resigning to throwing them in whatever spare totes and grocery bags we can find. I can sort through my things later at the house, put them all away carefully in my new living space, like I did not so long ago in this room.

I wander into the bathroom while Levi and Justin continue their banter in the main room as they pack. My eyes scan the space around me, searching for any toiletries I may have left behind, checking in the corners of the shower and retrieving the few stray bottles I left behind in my hurry last night.

It’s only when I stoop and pull open the cabinets under the sink that I spot the perfume bottle, hidden neatly behind some extra rolls of toilet paper. Ignoring the other items, I gingerly grab the bottle and pull it out, stroking my fingers down the worn label as the liquid sloshes around inside it. In my haste to leave Travis and finally start my new life, I hadn’t bothered to grab all of my things. I took only the necessities, figuring I could restock when I got to town and settled in. So to see the perfume bottle—that I’m certain I did not bring with me to North Creek—has another feeling of disquiet coursing through me.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m certain now, after seeing those texts this morning, that it was Travis who broke into my room yesterday. I wasn’t aware of the extent of his perusal into my new life. The half-empty bottle of his favorite perfume threatens to bring me back to the memory of the first time he bought it for me, us standing at the JCPenney perfume counter as we tried various fragrances just for the fun of it. He had surprised me with the perfume the night he officially asked me to be his. At the time, I was all too happy to oblige.

I was so fucking ignorant.

That scent became a weapon, a bargaining tool he used to lure me back each time he sensed he had gone too far. I scoff at the thought. “Gone too far” is putting it mildly. But still, following every single sleepless night where I cowered in fear, afraid to even breathe too loudly so as not to wake him after he’d finally exhausted himself with abusing me, he presented me with a new bottle of the perfume. I had more bottles of the shit than any one person could use in a lifetime.

It was calculated mental warfare on his part, the strategic move of a malicious war general determined to win back the loyalty of his soldier. Just holding the bottle in my hands has nausea roiling through my gut.

He’s a cunning opponent, I’ll give him that. Dismissing the memory, I chuck the bottle with a loud thud into the trash can in the corner, gathering my things and exiting back into the main room.