Page 118 of Under the Bed
If I hadn’t marked itin my school journal, I wouldn’t have remembered it, either.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. The Sea World jigsaw puzzle on the floor blurred into blue, orange, yellow, and gray splotches. No fish. No water. Just blurred colors.
My chest was so heavy.
“Shiloh.” A large hand on my shoulder felt warm and comforting.
I twisted my head up to Kaleb. He sat next to me, but I couldn’t see his face past his mask. Past the black holes for eyes that hid the golden embers behind them.
What I could do was to hear his unasked question. The concern in his voice that wrapped me in a comforting metaphorical blanket.
“I’m fine.” My brows scrunched at the lie. I blinked back the tears, swiped at my soaked cheeks, and repeated, “I’m fine.”
“Try again.”
“No.”
He squeezed my shoulder. It hurt, though not in a bad way. I wasn’t ever scared around Kaleb. “Try. Again.”
When I did, I cried. I wept and pushed my face into his chest. He hung his arm around me and said nothing. It was awkward for him. My emotions. My pain, laid bare.
He listened to me, anyway. He did what he could to be there when no one else would.
Sigh.
I don’t mean to say that I’d grown dependent on him. I loved him. He was the closest thing I had to a family.
Then…
Rage and indignation swirl inside me. My fists are clenched, fingers digging into my palms.
He had to go and murder my attackers.
He left evidence behind. Made it easy for them to take him away.
He’s been equally reckless this week. With Marina. My professor. The private investigator.
Without him, I had nothing. My heart was ripped out of my chest.
I loved him, then fell for the memory of him despite the brainwashing. Despite the fear.
Knowing it was fucked up didn’t change it. Studying couldn’t fix that.
This entire time, I neededhim. More than that. I need him to be okay. To be free. To have a life outside of this nightmare he’s been stuck in for eleven years.
Why doesn’t he care about that? Because of me?
I’m not worth it. I’m not.
The games aren’t worth it, either.
He is.
The vein in my neck throbs. My breaths quicken.
He won’t throw it all away. He won’t waste his opportunity to be free.
I won’t let him.
