Page 40 of Safe (King’s Heart #1)

Grant

I don’t want this moment to end.

That’s what I wanted to say to him. But I couldn’t make it come out.

I’ve already given him so much of myself—more than anyone else—and yet, there are still some things I can’t quite give up. Not yet, anyway.

Physically, though… I seemed to have opened up some dam I didn’t know I had.

This last week or so, I need him inside me constantly. Anyway that I can get it. Pressed up against the door of the bathroom stall after practice. Bent over a desk in an empty classroom. Anytime he’s in the same room as me, my eyes are searching for where he can fuck me.

He heals me.

That sounds so ridiculous. It’s just sex. I’ve had plenty of sex. But ours is different. It lifts me somewhere else. Away from the world that’s done nothing but hurt me.

It’s definitely not only about the sex anymore. When he’s walking next to me. Laughing. Eating. Sleeping. Smiling. It doesn’t fucking matter. As long as he’s around I just feel better.

It feels like this is how life should be. Not an unending stream of misery.

I roll over in bed, my hand immediately shooting out to feel for his body but only finding cold sheets.

Sitting up with a start, I look around the room, finding his phone and wallet missing from his nightstand.

“Landon?”

When there’s no answer, I find my phone and shoot him a text.

Me

Where are you?

I anxiously wait for a few minutes, never taking my eyes off the phone until the three little dots appear and he sends a reply.

Landon

Morning! Went to visit my mom with everyone today. I didn’t want to wake you up. I’ll see you later today

My stomach drops.

Well, this is the end, right? She’ll definitely tell him, and then I’ll have to make sure he leaves.

Maybe not. Maybe he won’t even mention me. So, she won’t say anything.

A call cuts off my intrusive thinking.

It’s an unknown number, so I send it to voicemail just like all the others recently.

Usually they don’t leave a message, but this one does, making itself known with a shrill ding .

The glaring red notification pierces my fucking eyesight, sending dread careening through my body.

I shakily click on it, placing it on speaker and listening to the unfamiliar voice filter into the room.

“Hello, Mr. Caldwell. My name is Tracey Morrison from the law firm of Morrison, Percy, and Wallis. I’m calling on behalf of your uncle, Nathaniel Caldwell, to confirm that you received our communication about?—”

I lock my phone in barely contained rage, whipping my head in the direction of the still unopened letter sitting in the drawer next to my bed.

I walk over to it, retrieving the envelope from its hiding space and carefully unsealing the flap.

My eyes scan the document. All of the information seeping into my brain. Information I know too well.

My hands start to curl, wrinkling the paper the longer I read.

A tear slips out of my eye, hitting one of the words and making the ink swirl away from the page.

“Fuck.” It starts off as a whisper. A shock of disbelief laced through it, until the anger starts to bubble up, rushing the other emotions away. Because what did I expect? I mean, really. That it would be the end?

It won’t ever end.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” My voice grows with every word, the paper a blurry mess through my leaking eyes. And then I’m screaming, tearing at the paper like it’ll make a fucking difference. “No! No! No! No! Stop!”

My throat is hoarse, but I don’t stop. Screams tear their way out of my chest as I swipe my hands over the night stands, scattering anything on top to the floor.

I run to my closet, tearing the clothes from the hangers, throwing them on the ground.

The blankets fly off my bed under my force, and then I’m panicking, looking for anything else to destroy.

Anything that will help me drive out the turmoil inside, but there’s hardly anything in this stupid fucking dorm room.

My screaming cuts out as a familiar feeling rises in me. I flex my hand, eyeing the barbed wire. Trying to fight. But why? Why fight when it’s all inevitable? When nothing will actually change? When at least I know I’ll be safe if I do it.

So I give in. I go and do what I need to. And then, familiarly, shame and relief wash over me afterward as I pick myself up off the floor and trudge back.

I quickly clean up the mess I made, strip down to my boxers, and curl into a ball in my bed. Trying to forget I exist until Landon comes back to me.