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No…
Please.
He can’t die now. Grayson deserves his own happy ending.
He can’t be a tragedy, I can’t let him be one.
I can’t let him die.
Somehow I force my brain to chase the numbness away. Somehow I find the strength to move. My whole body aches, every particle of me hurting as I get to my feet. I have cuts and bruises everywhere, but I force myself to take a step, once and twice.
And then another.
I slowly approach the listless body of our captor. I don’t linger too long near him. Shoving my hand in the pocket of his jeans, I take my phone out. I had seen him put it there earlier.
And then I limp back to Grayson.
Kneeling down next to his wounded body, I grasp his cold hand in mine. In my state of complete terror and utter panic, I press the dial.
The call rings twice, before he picks up. His familiar, deep baritone voice comes through.
“What?” he growls, fury dripping in that single word.
My heart ricochets against my ribs. I can’t speak…
“What do you want?” He sounds agitated and that makes me want to cry more.
Does he hate me…? Please, don’t hate me.
“If you’re not going to talk—” he spits out. “I’m going to hang up.”
I need you.
A whimper spills from my lips. I hear him pause. My breathing is shallow as I practically choke on the oxygen filling my lungs.
“Riley,” he speaks slower this time, concerned. I let out a wounded cry at the sound of my name on his lips.
I hear rustling in the background and then the clinking of keys. “Where are you?” he asks, his voice softening. “I’m coming to you. Riley? Do you hear me? Talk to me, Sunshine.”
Sunshine…
He calls me Sunshine.
I swallow the acidic bile in my mouth.
“Colton,” I whisper brokenly.
I need you.
