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Lies.

Images of him being with another woman are a hard blow to the chest. My fingertips brush along my lips, feeling theevidence that he must’ve come on them. But who’s to say it was his first orgasm for the night?

A frustrated groan escapes me. My hand tightens around the knife. The plastic handle digs into my skin, though it does nothing to pull me out of this truly ridiculous flare of jealousy.

No. I’m not jealous. Am not. I’m confused, that’s all. A victim of his mind games. Weak as I face my guilt over and over again. My longing. My misplaced emotions.

The fucking finger and fucking Kaleb. I toss it across the room, and it lands beneath my window.

I’m so done with this. With being jealous. Out of everything, this is the worst.

I’d rather be dead.

After a quick scan of my empty apartment, my knife firm in my grip, I come up empty.

Nothing and no one’s here. The locks, on the other hand, are undone.

I shake my head, mad at myself for messing up. Again. I’ll double and triple-check tonight.

Or maybe I’ll leave it open.

Maybe, once he’s done punishing me, he’ll get out of here.

He’ll be safe.

I don’t know. I don’tknow.

Best thing to do is get out of here. He’ll come to me when it suits him.

Then, I’ll convince him to save himself.

If I stay here, waiting, I won’t be able to do any of this. I’ll drown in adrenaline, anticipation, and fear.

Sitting through another day in college would help me regain some of my sanity. I hope.

There’s more I have to do today besides sitting through my classes. I’m on a mission. Now that Kaleb’s back, I’m helping him.

Helping us.

I thought I could wait a few years until I could participate in the clinical practice hours. Time has run out.

The sooner I take part in them and actually practice with real people, the sooner I’ll be able to understand him. Me. This thing we have.

Once I have the experience and tools to reach out to him, chances are he’ll listen. He’ll get out of here before they come for him.

He’ll be able to leave me behind and save himself.

Which is good. It’s a good thing.

But I can’t get into the clinical practice hours unless Professor Dempsey signs off on it.

Being at the top of my class won’t be enough. I have to dress the part, to announce how serious I am about this. And I will. For Kaleb.

I drop the knife on the kitchen counter and turn to my room just as the alarm goes off. It reminds me that my phone is still there. I need to check and see if anyone’s been looking for me. If they suspect anything.

If there’s a danger Kaleb needs to know about.

He was cruel to me. I was crueler.