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I drop Rhys's hand and clamp both of mine over my mouth. Pushing the chair back, I sprint up the stairs and make it to my bathroom just in time before my dinner comes back up.
The man who is after me was at my sister’s school. He spoke to her. He took pictures of her. I'm putting her at risk—my entire family. Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I grasp the toilet bowl, retching.
Later that night,after I assured my adopted parents that the pain meds must’ve messed with my stomach, I lie next to Rhys, listening to his even breathing. Instead of lying on his chest, as I have the past four nights, I’m on my stomach beside him. He is facing me on his side, holding my hand between both of his.
Once Heather and Tristen were satisfied that I didn't need medical attention, Rhys helped me change into a fresh t-shirt. I washed my face, and we ended up sitting in the bathroom in front of the vanity.
"Turner did this to scare you. From everything we know, he has no interest in Nat." I'm not sure if he was saying that for his or my benefit.
"I know." I did. But that didn't change the fact that this man had stalked her. And based on him taking the photo of her, it's likely he was the source for the article accusing Heather and Tristen of neglect. Is this all part of his plan? To achieve what? Isolate me from my family. Forcefully removing them from my life by having them accused of a crime they didn't commit.
I can’t let this continue.
"Do you want to talk to George? As long as you're at home, he can follow Nat," Rhys suggested. He was right. That would be an option.
But that wouldn't keep them safe. "No." I didn't explain myself, and apart from scowling, Rhys didn't press the issue.
Eventually, we settled back in my bed, and long after Rhys fell asleep, I was still watching him.
Takingin his stunningly gorgeous face in the dim light, my breath hitches. This boy is mine. Knowing what I have to do next makes me want to cling to him, but I’m too scared of waking him up.
As I recall what I said to him not two weeks ago, tears begin to pool. No matter what happens, no matter where we are or how long we are apart at times, I’m yours. I will always find my way back to you. You are my home.
When I uttered those words, I didn't expect them to become a reality so soon. I knew we'd be apart eventually, but I thought it would be because of something trivial like college.
I hope he will forgive me—one day.
Gingerly, I push myself up on all fours and crawl off the bed, careful not to make any sudden movements.
With the burner in hand, I head across the hall to Rhys's bathroom. I can't risk him overhearing this conversation. Sitting on the closed toilet seat, silent tears run down my face. I type in my brother’s number but then hesitate.
No, I don’t have a choice.
Hitting the dial button, it only rings twice before Nate’s anxious voice comes through the phone. "What’s wrong?"
We haven't spoken since he called about the surveillance camera stills of Turner that George had texted me.
After dropping everything twice for me, George insisted that Nate focus on his life in LA before someone—namely, Hank or Margot—starts asking questions. George has kept me up to date with the progress on the Hector Lakatos front—the call he had to make yesterday—and the lack of progress on the Turner front. Little did we know, he was following Natty.
It’s almost midnight in LA. Thanks to my brother’s fiancée being a social media serial poster, I know he was at some charity event with her, Celeste, and Julian that ended at eleven.
"I need you to do me a favor." My heart is pounding in my ears, and it takes every ounce of strength to steady my voice. My body wants to break out in violent sobs, but I don’t allow myself to lose it.
"Anything. You know that."
"I do."
I haven't told either of them about Turner showing up at Natty's school yet, and I'm going to wait until I see my brother.
"What do you need?" Nate presses carefully.
I take one more breath before speaking the words I have thought but have torn me apart inside since the first article was issued and dragged my family into my mess. "I need to leave."
Nate is quiet for so long that I’m not sure he’s still there. "Nate?"
"George will be outside in twenty minutes. Pack only essentials and bring the burner. We’ll set you up with everything once you get to your destination."
Relief floods through me, and I whisper, "Thank you."
