Page 129 of Run to Me

“We’re hoping Javi can get Jensen to talk, but he won’t be back until tomorrow,” she says.

“Where is Javi?”

“He’s leading a hike for troubled teens. Once he gets within cell range, he’ll have a thousand messages waiting for him.”

“Why does everyone think he can help?”

Javi has been with Jensen all these years. Did he miss the signs too? Had he never gone upstairs at Bruno’s, a place where he spends so much of his time? I have many unanswered questions, especially for those who were with Jensen every day while I was gone. Someone had to notice his behaviors. I’m not looking to point blame at anyone, but he needed help long before now.

Tatum holds my hand as if she’s about to deliver terrible news. “Trevor told us that Jensen went through something similar after Logan died, and Javi helped him through it.”

I recall Jensen saying he “went off the rails” and snapped, but I’m certain his problems had little to do with Logan and more to do with me. Thinking back on my conversation with Javi at the pool party, he’s aware of what triggered him. I’m sure of it, and Javi’s poor attitude toward me is making sense.

Shoving all the curiosity about Jensen’s past aside for now, I ask my best friend the question that’s been plaguing me for the past forty-eight hours. “Is this love, Tate? The hurt I’m feeling right now. The guilt because he’s suffering, and I can help him simply by going to him, but know I shouldn’t. Is this really love?”

“When you care about someone, you want to help them. When you love someone, you want them to help themselves. Sometimes that means taking a step back, even though it hurts.” Her voice trembles with understanding.

I have no doubt I love Jensen. I’m in love with him. Madly in love, if I’m measuring on some scale. My feelings for him are sound, certain, and undeniable to my heart. The question is…

“What about his love for me? Do you think it’s real?”

I first asked myself this question when Jensen and I began our relationship. Back then, I considered I might be an infatuation of his, and I’ve spent the past two days thinking my concerns were valid.

Tatum’s thoughtful, choosing her words carefully before she speaks. “I think Jensen loves you so much it consumes him.”

“An obsession.” My greatest fear coming true.

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but I can’t tell if she doubts her opinions or Jensen’s authentic feelings for me. “I think, once he gets some help and sorts out everything troubling his mind, his love for you will be the only thing that doesn’t change.”

I pray she’s right and I’m not abandoned by the person who claims to love me the longest, the hardest, the most.

When I have no response, she adds, “Jake and I locked up the room. No one else has been up there. We aren’t sure if clearing it out will hurt or help him, so we’re leaving it alone for now. Did you want to go back and salvage anything?”

My answer comes without hesitation. “No.”

The only thing worth saving is him.

47

JENSEN

I don’t remember coming home. Hushed voices drift from my living room. People want to see me, talk to me, invade my privacy. None of them are Maisy.

Jake acts as gatekeeper during the day, controlling who enters the house and learns my secrets. He’s allowed Trevor to come inside and Lucy to drop off meals. They talk about me, and Jake says everything will be okay. He doesn’t mention Maisy.

Where’s Javi?

Trevor acts as a babysitter at night. From the recliner he dragged into my bedroom, he works on his laptop, naps, and encourages me to eat, drink, shower. I don’t.

Where the hell is Javi?

I lie on the bed, my face pressed into Maisy’s satin pillow. She slept beside me a few nights ago, and her scent lingers, a tropical blend of coconut and ocean breeze. I imagine us lying on a beach. Maybe we’re on the island she wants to buy for just us. She wears the sexy red bikini I like with her aviator sunglasses, smiling at me over her shoulder as I rub oil on her tanned skin.

Then she fades on the horizon, vanishing in the flare of light during that moment when the setting sun kisses the sea.

Hurry, Javi. I’m losing her.

Jake’s strained whisper reaches me from the foot of the bed. “You can’t keep on like this, man. I’m worried about you. You’ve been in here for three days. You need to eat or at least drink some water. Or talk to me.”