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“No. She’s not here.”

“She must be in your room, then.”

“She’s not in my fucking room!” I burst out, panic taking hold.

I ran past him, up the stairs, and into my room again. And what my brain had clocked subconsciously was her missing duffel bag. It had been sitting on the floor under the window when I left this morning.

It was fucking gone.

No.

No, she wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t just leave me.

A blinding panic began welling in my throat, a lump swelling to the size of a baseball. Adrenaline shot through my veins, an electric, wild energy that had me grabbing up my lamp and hurling it at the wall with a roar.

I told her. I fucking told her to stay put. I didn’t believe for a single second she was going for a walk. Not with all her belongings.

What would it take? What was it going to take to convince her to stay by my side? What had brought this on? She’d seemed fine when I’d left her. Upset, but…I’d thought she was maybe starting to come around to me. That she was being at least a little bit honest with herself and what she wanted.

How could I have gotten it so wrong?

Something must have happened. Or was she just that good an actor? Had she been playing me this entire time and I hadn’t had a single fucking clue? Was I so desperate to keep this stray, feral woman close that I was blind to her ulterior motives?

I shoved my fingers through my hair and pulled, ran out to the hallway, and paused.

The door to my office was ajar.

I never left it open. Ever. The guys never went in there, either.

A drumbeat started in the back of my skull, pounding harder and louder until it was all I could hear as I made my way to the office. I threw open the door so hard it bounced off the wall. My eyes darted around the room, landing on a single piece of paper sitting in the center of my desk, one of my glass paperweights on top of it. With shaking fingers, I picked it up.

Court,

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone.

I’m sorry. Please believe me when I say that. I really am sorry. I’m a coward, but you knew that, didn’t you?

There are a lot of things I never told you. You always asked about me, and I didn’t have the courage to tell you any of it. But it’s easier not having to see the disappointment in your eyes when I finally tell you that I’m not worth any of the trouble you’ve gone to for me.

When I was sixteen, I put the daughter of a Mafia don in a coma. I really don’t know if she’s alive or not, and I suppose it doesn’t help to say that it was an accident. She’d been bullying me for a long time and had pushed me down the stairs, so I did the same.

I just wanted her to leave me alone, and look how that turned out.

I was terrified her dad would kill me, so I’ve been on the run ever since. But now that my face is all over the news, I’m scared that he’ll try and come after me.

I don’t want to be anywhere near you guys when that happens. I don’t want to put you in any kind of danger or fuck up your plans.

So…I just wanted to say thank you.

For a little while, I was able to pretend that there was some value in my existence. You made me feel like a real person. You made me feel safe. I’ve never felt that, not once, and I’m glad I got to experience it. Especially with you.

You are the closest I’ve ever come to any kind of forever. I’ll never, ever forget you or the things you did for me.

If I knew what love felt like, maybe I’d call this love. I’m not sure I’m capable of it, though.

Thank you for saving me.