Chapter 38 #2
Callan stood a few yards away near a lamppost, with hands clenched at his sides, and chest rising and falling like he had run the whole way here. His eyes were locked on me, taking in every detail from a distance.
He didn’t move right away, and neither did I.
I couldn’t, and yet, I wanted to run to him.
He looked like he had been through a battle, and his face was filled with worry.
I had no idea what he had done back home.
If he had sent my mother away, if he had called the police.
But that didn’t matter to me right now. He was here, still coming after me after everything. That’s all that should’ve mattered.
He started walking, his steps slow but determined until he closed the distance between us.
I wanted to move and meet him halfway, but my feet were glued to the spot.
My mind was screaming at me to run and flee from the shame I still felt.
But my traitorous heart wanted nothing more than to collapse into his arms.
He stopped right in front of me. His eyes scanned my face, his gaze lingering on my cheek. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and a flicker of darkness crossed his features before it was replaced by tenderness so deep it made my knees weak.
He didn’t say a word. He just opened his arms, and that was all it took.
A sob of pure agony tore from my throat, and I stumbled forward, crashing into him.
He caught me, his arms wrapping around me in a tight embrace.
He lifted me slightly off my feet, burying his face in my hair, with one hand pressing my head to his chest while the other held me tight around the waist. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his back.
I sobbed against him, my whole body shaking with the force of it.
I let it all out right there, at my favorite place in the whole world.
I cried for the video and for the shame.
I cried for my mother who had hit me and the man who was now holding me.
And I cried for the girl I was before all of this and for the broken, terrified person I had become.
We stood there in the middle of the path, and he let me fall apart because it’s what I needed in that moment. And I had never been more thankful for anyone in my life, ever.
My sobs became fewer with time, but I didn’t let him go. I couldn’t. My fingers were still tangled in the fabric of his shirt. Despite the world keeping on spinning around us, we stayed there under the night sky, locked in our own small bubble.
Callan pulled back slightly, putting enough space between us to look at me.
He reached up with both hands to cup my face, his palms pressing against either side of my jaw.
His eyes took me in closely, and I could see the same worry in his gaze that I felt in my own heart.
I could see that he hated seeing me like this, that the sight of my pain was a physical blow to him.
He must’ve been worried sick because I hadn’t had my phone on me, and I didn’t want to think about how many places he went to look for me before he came here.
But that thought was quickly proven wrong when he said, “I came here the second the police took your mother away.”
My mind didn’t stay on the police part. The words about my mother’s arrest were too big to process in that moment.
Instead, my mind got stuck on him saying that he came here immediately.
He knew I had been here. He knew me well enough to know that this was the place I ran off to when the world became too much.
Of all the places in the city I could have gone, he knew.
“She’s gone, Lana,” he told me, his thumbs brushing soothingly over my cheekbones. “The police took her away and I told them everything. She won’t hurt you again. Never again.”
My mind needed a moment to follow what he was saying.
I had no idea what had happened after I ran from the house, but with the memory of my mother’s rage still fresh and raw, I knew it couldn’t have been good.
The image of her being led away in handcuffs was one I couldn’t quite form, but his words began to sink in.
“Let me take you home,” he begged, his voice cracking slightly on the last word.
He looked pained when he said the words, as if he knew what a monumental ask it was.
“I know it’s hard for you. I know that my home hasn’t ever felt like a home to you.
But I promise you that from now on, nothing, and no one will ever hurt you there.
Please…I love you, Lana. Come home with me, Lana. ”
I heard the words he was saying, even the ones I thought I’d ever hear from him, but nothing really made sense in that moment, so I may have misheard him.
As he spoke, my gaze drifted upward. And that’s when I saw the three cuts etched into the skin of his temple.
They were fresh, the skin around them still slightly raised.
They weren’t deep, but they were there. My breath hitched at the idea that my mother had done that to him. Had she fought him?
The sight of those scratches shattered something inside me. It wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about him, too, and the fact that he had stood between me and her rage and had taken the blows meant for me. He had bled for me, and now he was here.
My fear suddenly seemed selfish. He was asking me to come home not just for my safety, but for his own peace of mind. He needed to know I was safe as much as I needed to be safe.
I reached up slowly, my fingers trembling as I gently traced the line of the scratches with my fingertip. He flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. I looked from the marks on his skin back to his pleading eyes. The fight went out of me, and all the resistance evaporated.
I gave a slow nod as I whispered, “Okay, take me home.”