Under Your Care

Chapter 12

Lane

Soon enough it was time for Greyson to return to the office, resulting in a new daily routine. He’d cook us both breakfast, head out after eating, return with food for lunch, head back to the office - all while continually texting me throughout the day - then return for dinner. A few days in, he’d granted me permission to contact Oliver, and after Oliver had threatened to call the police if he couldn’t see me in person, Greyson had told me to invite him over to the apartment during a day he was out at work.

I was nervous about seeing him without Greyson to keep me anchored. I loved Oliver. He was practically family. But I knew he’d be disappointed with how compliant I had been with Greyson. I wanted his visit to be perfect so that he’d see how well Greyson had been caring for me. My fear was that Oliver would never accept and get along with Greyson. As I sat on our living room couch, waiting anxiously for my friend to arrive, I tried to perfect my argument on Greyson’s behalf. I fretted with a loose thread on my shorts, hoping that everything would be okay. I was jerked from my thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing. I jumped off the couch and quickly ran to open the front door.

My heart sank as I flung open the door and laid my eyes upon a very obviously angry Ollie. He pushed past me into the foyer.

“Where the fuck is that bastard?” Oliver barked, fists clenched at his side. I breathed deeply, shutting the door behind me. When I tried to calm my friend down by placing my hand on one of his shoulders, he shrugged me off. My chest began to hurt.

“Greyson’s at work, so it’s just me home,” I mumbled faintly, rubbing my breastbone in an attempt to ease the pain.

“He left you alone?” Oliver looked back at me with a bewildered look in his eye.

“Yeah… Um, he started going back to work so it’s just me for most of the day.”

Oliver whipped around, latching onto one of my wrists. “We’re getting you out of here right now!” He tugged me towards the door as I dug my feet into the floor.

“No! I don’t want to leave, Ollie. Besides, all my stuff and Chloe are here. Please, just let me try to explain. Please,” I begged, ripping my arm out of his grasp. “Come on, he made snacks for us. Pleaaaseee,” I pouted, pointing over to the spread on the coffee table.

Oliver glared at me before nodding and stomping into the living room. “I’m not eating or drinking anything until you try it first.”

My stomach dropped, despair welled inside me as I nodded sadly. Oliver had never acted this way with me before. It hurt. I found myself wishing that Greyson were here so that I could skip this part and fast-forward to Oliver being my bestie again.

“I’m sure he’s already thoroughly brainwashed you, but go on,” Oliver grumbled.

As I talked through my relationship with Greyson and my time at the apartment, I left out the part about Greyson drugging and kidnapping me. While I felt like that was the only truly unsavory part of the story, Oliver did not agree .

“Fuck. Lane, do you even hear yourself? He literally told you point blank that he manipulates you. You haven’t been outside in like two weeks! He controls everything from your diet, your hygiene, your clothes. I’m your best friend, Lane. Please, I’m begging you to think for yourself and realize how fucked up this all is. He was your fucking therapist , Laney. None of this is okay!” Oliver shouted at me, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

“It’s not like that, Ollie. I really like him and he loves me,” I choked out, overwhelmed with emotion.

Oliver scoffed, “He doesn’t love you, Lane. He’s abusing you. You’re just too blind to see it since he’s giving you attention.”

I cried, my fingernails digging into the palms of my hands, “Don’t say that!”

“Is this how you were with your cousin?”

I blanched, whispering, “What?”

Oliver ground his teeth, seething. “I’m not dumb. I know you used to fuck him. He probably just told you that incest is okay and you smiled and went along with it. Greyson is exactly the same.”

I wanted to vomit, I’d never explicitly told Oliver about Tate.

“Greyson isn’t like him,” I trembled, my vision blurry and head pounding.

Oliver took a deep breath before speaking to me in a calmer manner, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just… I’m so scared for you, Laney. Please… just listen to what I’m about to say, please.”

“Okay…”

“If you stay here, he’s either going to kill you or throw you away once he gets bored. Have you even considered that he could have these kinds of relationships with other patients? He’s just using you, Lane. You’re convenient and young and easily manipulated.”

Greyson wouldn’t do that to me, right? He’d been so perfect to me. But, he was out of the apartment for most of the day now. He could be doing anything out there. No.

“He’s not… He’s not like that…” I stuttered.

“If a teacher fucks a student, is that okay? If a doctor fucks a patient, is that okay? No, it’s not. And almost every time, there’s more than just one victim.”

My breath began coming rapidly. My chest felt like it was being crushed by the weight of the world.

Oliver continued, “Lane, would someone with your best interests in mind really keep you from contacting your own parents? What is he worried about you saying to them? If he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he wouldn’t care.”

“Please, go. Just go, please. I can’t– I can’t–” I stammered between breaths. I stood up, faltering and almost losing my balance.

“Lane, please. Come with me. Don’t become just another victim,” Oliver insisted, standing up and taking both of my hands in his. “Please. For me.” I vehemently shook my head, pulling him towards the door. “Think about it. I’ll help you.” Pulling the door open, he looked at me a final time - disappointment and worry swirling in his eyes - and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Nausea suddenly and violently wracked my body, causing me to throw up the contents of my lunch and snack. Rolling my body away from the vomit, I curled into a ball, shivering and covered in a cold sweat.

Was Greyson like Tate?

My immediate answer was no. Hell no.

Right?

Oliver’s cruel words and possible truths pounded against my skull. Had I just lost my best friend? I would if I stayed with Greyson. What if Oliver was right? He’d always had a bad feeling about Greyson. What if Greyson had been lying to me when he said that we were meant for eachother. What if he said that to other people to get them to sleep with him? It would shatter me completely if everything had been a lie. Was it better to leave now before he got tired of me? My hands trembled as I hugged myself, squeezing tight. I had never felt so lost as I did at that moment.

Where would I even go if I left? Greyson’s brothers were literal assassins and he was a hobby killer. Would they kill me to make sure I didn’t snitch? I’d have to go far away. I couldn’t stay with Oliver or my parents - they’d find me immediately. I wasn’t sure what Greyson had done with my car, so that wasn’t an option. What if Oliver was wrong? What if Greyson did love me and I was running away from my soulmate?

I loved my princess room. I loved how carefully he washed me in the bath, shampooed my hair, and looked at me so tenderly when he toweled me off. I loved how even on days he had to go out, he always ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner with me. I loved how he was slowly getting used to Chloe. She had even sat on his lap the other night while we were watching a movie.

If I left right now, I couldn’t tell Oliver anything. Greyson would go to him first for answers. I shakily picked myself up off the floor, stumbling through the apartment to my bedroom. I felt like throwing up again when I thought about how much thought he must have put into this room.

That couldn’t have been a lie, right? Right? I felt untethered, adrift.

I hastily packed a tote bag and put Chloe into her carrier. She stared up at me with her big eyes and I couldn’t help but sob. What if I was making the biggest mistake of my life? I didn’t want to leave. I wanted this day to have never happened. I wanted to be in bed, Greyson’s hand stroking my hair, making everything feel okay. My chest felt like it was cracking open. I didn’t want to leave. But, if I didn’t leave and got hurt, it would be my fault - right?

I didn’t want to leave.

I dry-heaved as I carried my bag and the cat carrier out the front door. I left my phone on the dining table, along with a poorly-written goodbye note. Once I was out of Greyson’s apartment building, I found the closest bus stop and waited. It wasn’t long before I was boarding, taking my seat, and wiping the tears from my red-rimmed eyes.

I didn’t want to leave, but I had to.