Page 128 of Run to Me

I lose all feeling, all control, and go completely numb. No words, no thoughts, no light as I fall into the pit. Jake catches me by the shoulders, directing my body so it crashes to the bed and not the floor.

“Jensen,” he says, his urgent voice as distant as my muted soul. “What’s happening? What should I do?”

In my head, I answer him. Call Javi.

46

MAISY

“Thanks for hanging out with me again,” I say to Ainsley.

I never got on the plane to Jamaica. I didn’t even drive to the airport. As soon as I left Bruno’s, I pulled to the side of the road, emailed the production team saying I had a family emergency, and booked a room at the Walford Inn.

Ainsley found me hiding at the bed-and-breakfast when she made her rounds cleaning rooms yesterday. After her shift ended, she sat with me for a little while. We didn’t talk much. I assumed she knew about Jensen because she didn’t ask why I was crying. She also didn’t try to console me, and I appreciate someone who’s willing to be present without feeling the need to make a fuss.

Tying the laces on her sneakers, she says, “It’s no trouble. I know you don’t want to be alone. Besides, this is way nicer than my place.”

If a stale, outdated room at a bed-and-breakfast is an upgrade compared to where she lives…yikes. The carpet’s geometrical pattern clashes with the floral bedding, and the mismatched furnishings are littered with nicks and scratches.

“I’m not trying to drag you into this or use you for information.”

“Maisy, it’s fine. I knew something was off at the festival, maybe before then. I wish I would’ve said something sooner.”

“And I should’ve looked closer,” I admit.

I’ve spent two days recycling what ifs and should haves. None of them make the situation better.

“Don’t blame yourself. Whatever’s going on, he has to face it head-on. He doesn’t have to do it alone, but he has to make the choice to get help.”

Narrowing my eyes at her, I say, “You’re wise for someone so young.”

She barks a laugh, though it’s a humorless sound. “I haven’t felt young in a long time.” Swapping her plain white T-shirt for the Bruno’s shirt that she pulls out of a huge duffel bag, she says, “I need to get some things done before my shift. Will you be here again tonight?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know either way.”

“Just text me,” she says, then the enigmatic girl is gone.

An hour later, a light knock on the door startles me. I shouldn’t be surprised by Tatum’s face when I check the peephole. If anyone is intent on finding me, it’s her. I open the door, and she drops a box on the floor. From the loud thump, it sounds too heavy for a woman who’s six months pregnant to be carrying around.

“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the unlabeled banker box with its lid taped shut.

“That’s something for you to look through when you’re ready.” She slides her gaze from the box to me, and sympathy glistens in her eyes. “You’re not in Jamaica.”

“Nope. How did you find me?” I shut the door and reclaim my dented spot on the bed, pulling the T-shirt I stole from Jensen over my bare knees. I’ve given up on wearing pants at this point.

After I checked into the hotel room, I turned off location sharing on my phone so I could be alone with my thoughts. I’m still unsure if I’m ready to talk to anyone who has a history with me or Jensen, hence my willingness to have Ainsley as company. The pain is too fresh, too confusing, to face it with anyone from our past.

Tatum rolls her eyes. They’re puffy and red at the edges, and I’m sure mine look the same. “Did you really think Marcus only uses one tracking app? Mr. Diligent? The minute your flight was supposed to land, he knew where you were and told me. I thought you’d want some space for a couple of days, so I left you alone.” She toes off her shoes and lies on the bed, facing me. “Talk to me, Maiz.”

My throat swells before I can explain myself. “I couldn’t leave him. I walked away but wanted to stay close in case...”

“In case he needs you,” she says, finishing my thought as she rubs my arm. “We all think you’re making the right decision by staying away.”

“This doesn’t feel right, Tate. I feel like I’m being torn in two.” Avoiding her gaze because I don’t want to see the truth in her eyes, no matter how she answers, I ask, “How is he?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t mince her words. “He’s not good. The guys have been taking shifts at his house, but he hasn’t spoken since Jake and I found him after you texted me.”

She tells me about the condition of the room and how Jensen reacted to their probing for an explanation. When she describes his angry outburst, I shut my eyes and push the vision of it happening from my mind. Jensen would’ve been horrified about scaring Tatum, and I don’t want to imagine the terror on her face, much less his once he realized what he’d done. They don’t understand that his outbursts are caused by frustration, and he’s angry with himself, not them. He would never hurt anyone.