Keep Me Safe

chapter one

kira

“This is a serious accusation. If we find out you’re lying, you could get into real trouble ,” the stout officer warns, his mustache twitching as he frowns.

The stale stench of coffee and cigarettes clings to him, turning my stomach. I’ve been sitting in this cold metal chair for over an hour, shaking so badly my teeth nearly chatter. Tears streak my face as I stare at him, pleading silently.

He isn’t listening to me.

“I tried to tell him no—he wouldn’t listen,” I say more to myself than to him.

“Are you sure?” he asks, accusation clear in his tone.

I drop my head into my hands, taking a deep, quivering breath. I’ve told him the entire story three times, but it doesn’t matter. He thinks I’m lying. My heart sinks in my chest as I look up to my mom. Her eyes don’t meet mine as she sighs, looking more annoyed with the situation than concerned.

“Listen ,” the officer drones, “ from what I’m hearing, there’s no case here. You willingly put yourself in the situation. He didn’t threaten you. He didn’t hurt you.” His voice lowers. “ Not to mention, you were drinking—which is illegal. You’re lucky I’m not charging you for that. I suggest you go home and clean yourself up.” His gaze drags over me, making bile rise in my throat.

What is happening?

These people were supposed to help me. That’s what we’re told as kids, right? Cops protect you? My vision blurs as I stand and make my way out of the police station.

“I told you,” is all my mom says.

Three years later, it plays in my head like it was yesterday. I push down the memory, locking it away as I turn my key in the old deadbolt.

The scent of strawberries and vanilla fills the room from the wax warmer in the kitchen, and the sun shines through the windows, painting a golden hue over the space. The bed is made, albeit sloppily, and all I want to do is climb into it.

This place has been my home for nearly an entire year now. The apartment is small and fits only the necessities: a queen-sized bed, a purely functional kitchen, and a bathroom the size of a closet, but I love it. It’s mine. I signed the lease the minute I turned eighteen and was legally able to, needing to escape my mother.

She never loved me. I ’ m convinced of that now.

Still, some small, foolish part of me thought that night—something that serious—would force her to show a sliver of compassion.

I was wrong.

Sinking onto my comforter, I let out a slow breath.

That’s over now.

I haven’t spoken to her since I left, and I don’t plan to.

I need to focus on the present.

I graduated today.

I actually did it.

After everything that happened freshman year, I wasn’t sure I’d make it to sophomore year, let alone graduate. The thought fills me with a hint of pride. He didn’t win.

Prying my stare away from the cracks in the yellowed ceiling, I sit up, knowing I have to start getting ready to head to work. My job at the local grocery store isn’t anything fancy, but I’m beyond grateful for it. Without that income, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

Lake Ann is tiny—barely three hundred people live here year-round—which explains why our grocery store is the size of a storage shed. The building’s wooden siding and deep green trim make it look like something out of an old Western, but don’t let its size fool you. Somehow, it’s packed with everything a person could need.

I drop my bag behind the counter and head toward the back, searching for Rob. He’s always here, stocking shelves or chatting with customers. I find him crouched in the snack aisle, stuffing bags of chips onto a shelf.

Rob is in his sixties, silver-haired and round like a teddy bear, with a permanent twinkle in his eye. He grins up at me.

“Good afternoon, graduate . How does it feel?”

I return his smile, loving that he cares.

“Honestly, not much different. I’m just glad I don’t have to enter that godforsaken school ever again,” I laugh.

For me, high school was miserable. I had no friends besides Jared. The only thing that kept me going was ceramics.

Mrs. Johnson —Darla, now that I’m out of school—was the closest thing I had to a real parental figure. She owns a pottery studio and lets me use it for free. Without her, I don’t know where I’d be. She’s the reason I still believe I can open my own studio someday.

“You say that now, but you’ll miss it eventually,” he says.

I highly doubt it, but maybe it’s true for him.

“Do you think you could handle the register? I’m going to finish stocking,” he adds.

“Of course!”

I take a seat on the tall wooden stool behind the counter. Thankfully, today is warm, with the sun shining brightly through the old windows and almost no clouds in the sky. Michigan is one of the gloomiest states, so I’m happy that we tend to get a lot more sun during the summer. It makes the cloudy winter days worth it.

A jingle sounds, and the front door flies open, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Jared.

He barrels toward me, his face split into a grin. Before I can react, he wraps me in a crushing hug, lifting me off my seat.

“I can’t believe we did it! We’re officially adults now!” he exclaims.

Jared has been my best friend since middle school, and this—this joy, this energy—is exactly why I love him. He’s sunshine in human form.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. He smells like fresh laundry and summer heat. His sandy blond hair flops into his bright green eyes, making him look like an overexcited golden retriever.

“We did,” I giggle.

“Are you ready for the bonfire tonight?” He puts his hand by the side of his mouth and lowers his voice, “Jake’s bringing the booze, and of course, I’ve got the bud. Plus, my dad works, so he’ll be at the station and out of our way until tomorrow.”

I shake my head, grinning at him.

Jared’s dad is a firefighter, so his shifts are typically overnight. This has given us plenty of time over the years to make some questionable decisions at his lake house.

We ’re still alive, though, so that’s a plus. Although, there were some close calls. A specific memory of too much tequila and a boat comes to my mind.

The door chimes again as it swings open. This time, however, Jared’s dad walks through the door.

I take in his broad frame. He’s wearing his typical ensemble: a faded black t-shirt that hangs over his ink-covered arms, worn blue jeans, and old brown work boots. He’s the picture of masculinity. He scans the store, presumably looking for Jared, but his eyes land on mine instead. I quickly drop my focus to the floor, hoping he missed my staring.

Noah Keller is probably the hottest man I’ve ever seen, but he is entirely off-limits.

His eyes linger on me briefly before shifting to Jared leaning over the counter. “I hope you’re not getting Kira into any trouble.”

“Of course not. In case you forgot, I’m congratulating her on our literal graduation today.”

“I was there,” he responds, his eyes landing on me again. “Congratulations, Kira.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks under his attention. Ever since Jared and I became friends, Noah has been there for us when he could. I can only imagine how hard it must be doing it all alone. He and Jared’s mom split up before I met them, and I’ve always wondered what happened. But I never got the nerve to ask Jared, and he’s never volunteered the information either.

“I just needed a snack before I have to head into the station,” Noah says as he opens the clear doors and grabs a cream-filled long john, placing it in one of the parchment bags and onto the counter. My heart races at his eyes on me.

“And, of course, Jared wanted to come too,” Noah chuckles as Jared tosses a bag of jerky onto the counter. I ring them up, smiling to myself. I don’t know what I would do without these two.

The rest of my shift goes by without much struggle, and Rob even lets me leave a little early, citing my “big day” as an excuse.

Of course, it’s going to be chilly tonight. It’s Michigan in May. I throw on a cropped sweater and some thicker jeans before grabbing my phone from my dresser.

A new message.

Jared: Are you on your way yet?

Jared: I don’t wanna start without you

Kira: Miss me already?

Kira: I’m finishing getting ready, then I’ll head out

I roll my eyes. He knows I’m not a big drinker, but that never stops him from trying.

I pack an overnight bag, fully aware I’ll be staying over, and grab my keys from the counter. Double-checking that the door is locked behind me, I make my way to my car. The drive to Jared’s is only about fifteen minutes out of town, a route I’ve taken countless times over the years. It’s familiar. Comforting. Like going home.

When I pull up to the house, cars are already filling up the front yard. Great . I was hoping that there wouldn’t be this many people yet. I don’t mind parties, but a large group of people getting wasted makes me a little anxious, especially when it’s people I don’t know.

I park in my usual spot in the driveway, right behind Jared’s silver Mazda, and take a deep breath. I’ll be fine. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I step out of my car and head toward the backyard.

Jared’s house is a white, two-story craftsman overlooking Lake Ann. While the front of the house is beautiful and well-landscaped, the back is the selling point. It features a large deck that leads down to a grass patch with a gorgeous view of the lake. Beyond that stands a worn wooden dock extending into the water.

The entire space is lit with warm string lights, and the fire is already blazing by the lake. Jared stands beside it with a red solo cup in hand. Sensing my presence, he glances up, and his bright eyes meet mine. He smirks as I saunter to the fire to stand with him.

“Kira, you finally made it.”

“Yes, and somebody promised me a shot.” I look up at him, mostly kidding, but some liquid courage would help ease the anxiety filling my chest.

“Well, let’s go get it then,” he says, mischief playing in his features.

He grabs my hand and leads me to the porch, where we pass a folding table set up for beer pong.

I shout over the music, “We are so doing that later!”

Sliding the door open, we step into the kitchen. Jared starts pouring what looks like tequila into a red solo cup, handing it to me.

“Starting out strong, are we?”

He laughs, “Go big or go home, am I right?”

The liquid burns on the way down, spreading a welcome warmth through my chest. I don’t drink much anymore, but sometimes it helps quiet the noise in my head. When I glance up, I catch Jared watching me.

“What?” I ask. He hesitates for a moment, shaking his head.

“Nothing, let’s make some drinks and go play some beer pong.”

I tilt my head in confusion but push it away.

Typically, I prefer wine, but that’s not an option, so I make myself a tequila soda, and he pours himself a jack and coke. Grabbing my hand again, he pulls me back to the porch.

“We play winners!” Jared announces.

While we’re waiting for the current game to end, Jared and I sit on the wicker chairs on the porch, sipping our drinks.

“I can’t believe high school is finally over,” I sigh.

“Me either. It felt like it was never going to end,” he responds. “I can’t wait to start at Michigan State this fall.”

“I’m so excited for you! I’m going to miss you, though,” I whine.

“I know,” he says, his smile soft. “But I’ll come home as much as I can.”

The game wraps up, and we’re up next against Jake and Ava. Jake is one of Jared’s best friends—they met when Jared joined JV football freshman year and have been inseparable ever since. Ava is Jake’s girlfriend. I’ve only met her a few times, but she seems nice.

“Kira and I are basically beer pong legends. You two don’t stand a chance,” Jared teases.

I laugh. I wouldn’t call myself a legend, but I’ve had plenty of practice on this porch. Memories of sneaking a six-pack from Noah the summer before freshman year flash through my mind.

Now, we’re down to one pesky red cup. Jake and Ava still have two on the table. Jared misses his shot. It’s my turn.

No way I’m making this. Pressure makes me choke every time—especially a few drinks in.

“Come on, Kira, you got this!” Jared cheers.

“No, you don’t,” Jake smirks, throwing me a wink.

I take a deep breath and line up my shot, tossing the ball with a perfect arc and landing directly into the center of the cup. Shouts erupt from behind me. Jared brings his arms around me, lifting me into a big hug. I squeal, giggling as he puts me down.

“See, I knew you could do it. Who’s next?” Jared asks.

More people step up to the other side of the table, and we play a couple more rounds until we finally lose to some guys that I can only explain as looking like their names are Brad and Chad. Accepting defeat, Jared shrugs and heads inside to grab another drink, not that he needs it. I follow, making my way down the hall to the bathroom.

Washing my hands, a knock sounds on the door.

“One sec!” I announce, turning off the water.

The door swings open anyway.

Jake looms over me, the dim light casting shadows across his face. He shuts the door behind him. The click of the lock is deafening. My stomach knots, my breath catching in my throat.

I’ve been trying to get you alone all night,” he slurs, the stench of alcohol strong on his breath.

Panic claws up my chest. I force myself to stay still, to breathe, but my heart pounds against my ribs. I glance past him, calculating the distance to the door. Too far.

Then, without warning, he’s on me. An arm snakes around my waist, pulling me into him.

Suddenly, I’m fifteen again.

The air is too thick. The room is too small. I can’t breathe.

Jake’s breath is hot against my cheek. “ I couldn’t help but notice how you were looking at me earlier,” he murmurs, his eyes dragging over me like I belong to him. His fingers brush the hem of my sweater, just beneath my ribs. My skin crawls. My pulse roars in my ears.

I need out. Now.

“Jake, what are you doing?” My voice is barely above a whisper, too strangled by fear.

He smirks. “ Relax.”

I jerk back, but his grip tightens.

“ I like the top,” he says, his fingers grazing the bottom of my chest.

My throat locks up. My body shuts down. The memories slam into me like a wrecking ball. I’m trapped. No one can hear me. No one can save me.

Except me.

Time stops. I force my mind to catch up with my body. This is now. I am not fifteen. I am not powerless.

I lift my chin and meet his eyes, steel sharpening my voice.

“ Let. Go. Of. Me.”

His body locks up. He stares at me as if seeing me clearly for the first time. The moment stretches, suffocating. Then, finally, his hands fall away.

“Shit,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. “ I— I thought you wanted it. My bad.”

His bad.

I stumble back, bile burning my throat. “ You have a girlfriend!” My voice cracks. Tears sting my eyes, but I won’t cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

I lunge for the door, fumbling with the lock.

“Please don’t tell Ava,” he pleads, reaching for me again.

The moment his fingers graze my wrist, I snap.

“Are you kidding me?” I wrench myself free.

Jared’s nowhere in sight. My chest is caving in. I can’t be here.

I shove through the back door and gasp for air. The cool night stings my burning cheeks as I stumble down to the lake, barely seeing where I’m going.

The hammock.

I sink into it, curling in on myself, pressing my forehead into my knees. The weight of everything crashes over me, a tide I can’t fight.

Was I looking at him a certain way? I wasn’t trying to.

This outfit shows too much skin.

I should have known better.

I press my foot against the ground and start swinging myself, rocking through the nausea, the dread. I press my nails into my palm, grounding myself.

I am okay. I am safe.

I repeat it until I almost believe it.

The moon glows on the water’s surface, its reflection rippling with the waves. The party hums behind me, a distant blur of voices and music. I catch sight of Jared on the porch, laughing, passing a joint around a circle of carefree faces.

I envy them. I used to be them.

I stare up through the leaves, blinking rapidly. Then I break. Silent, shuddering sobs slip free, my shoulders shaking.

I don’t know how long I’ve been lying there when Jared stumbles up beside me.

“Kira! What are ya doin’ over here?” he asks, plopping down beside me and wrapping his arm around me. The scent of alcohol hits me like a slap.

I flinch. My breath hitches. My body tenses.

For one terrifying second, I am not here.

But then, reality snaps back into place. This is Jared. He’s not Jake.

I exhale sharply, forcing a smile through the tears.

Jared frowns. “ Kira? ”

I don’t answer. Instead, I reach up, cupping his cheeks with both hands, anchoring myself.

“Oh, Jared, how drunk are you?”

His brow furrows. “Have you been crying— ? ” He stops mid-sentence, his attention snapping toward the house.

“Uh oh.”

I glance up, following Jared’s line of sight and the man storming across the lawn in his work uniform. He does not look happy. He stops about two feet away and looks down at us. Slowly, I bring my gaze up to meet his dark eyes, my stomach knotting at the fury there.

“What’s going on here?” Noah demands.

Shit .

I thought he was supposed to be at the station tonight. His eyes move to Jared’s arm around me and dart back to mine, his features hardening.

He is pissed.