Page 94 of Save Me

I sit in absolute helplessness. I can’t help him, and I can’t fix what we just did.

I breathe in and out, in and out. I really want to save Maddox. But how can I save him if I’m drowning myself?

But what the heck does it look like to save myself? Does it mean feeling okay even if you just killed someone? Feeling peaceful if the man you want more than anything is walking away from you? No, not just walking, running.

Nothing feels right. But he asked me not to chase.

This is wrong. But for Maddox, I’ll do anything. I know it’s supposed to be for myself, but right now I can’t be brave for myself.

But I can be brave for him. So that if he decides to come back, I’ll be here. Waiting.

CHAPTER FIFTY

This is wrong. Nothing feels right. I stumble down the same streets I did with Princess in the stroller, and things just feel…wrong.

I thought leaving would help me breathe, but instead, I struggle to fill my lungs with air, like my lungs are balloons that get stomped on every time I try to take a breath. The panic presses down on me, and as I round the same corner I did with Princess, I feel deeply and utterly alone.

I stagger.

What do I do? I just killed a man. Micah just killed a man. The man I used to date. Who I used to imagine my future with. The man who threatened my safety.

I should feel free. Exhilarated.

Only, I’m not free. This is murder. The cops are going to be after us now. And not just now. They will be forever. This will always chase us no matter where we go.

Us. Me and the man I left behind.

Micah.

My chest tightens.

I left that place so I’d feel free. Like maybe if I just ran from what we did, it wouldn’t be real.

So why don't I feel free? Why do I feel…hunted? Hunted and alone.

I stop there, silence falling over me. There are no funny jokes. No Princess. No game to play.

Because I ran away from all of it.

And…he let me.

My gut twists. He let me. He fucking let me? Something hot boils in my chest. Why did he let me go? No argument, no fight, just let me run away.

The pressure in my chest is so tight that I grab at it.

He doesn’t care.

You asked him to stay.

He’s not supposed to fucking listen!

I thump my chest. He’s not supposed to fucking roll over. He’s supposed to chase me. Force me to stay. Hold me until his fingers dig into my skin and tell me how much he wants me. Scream in my face until the spit makes my skin cool.

I spin in a circle. I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this!

I stagger into a bush by the sidewalk. Then, there’s a sharp whimper.

What the hell? My gaze locks onto the shadowy row of bushes lining the sidewalk. The bushes are only waist-high, and I don’t see anyone. Then, there’s movement down near the ground.