27. Eli
Eli
The first time I saw the car, I told myself it meant nothing.
Nothing, right?
It was just a dark sedan parked across the street. Nothing unusual. Nothing worth spiraling over.
It sat there for almost thirty minutes. The driver never got out. Never shifted. Never checked a phone. Just watched.
Watching.
Again, it’s nothing.
I kept telling myself that, as if repetition could make it true.
Ten minutes later, I looked again, and the car was gone.
See?
Nothing.
My mind was playing tricks on me.
Yeah.
A cold ripple moves through me. My mind keeps lying, but my body refuses to listen.
Because after that, everything started to feel wrong: subtly at first, then all at once. Like my nerves had been rewired to expect danger even when nothing was there.
I tried to live normally. Tried to work, walk down the street, go to the shops. But normal stopped feeling safe.
A man standing too long in the produce section: not buying anything, just there, too still.
A stranger sitting alone in a café, watching the door instead of his drink.
A hooded figure outside the apartment building, not moving even when the wind picked up.
Every face became Adrian, and every shadow turned into something watching me back.
Every unfamiliar sound made my skin tighten, like something underneath it was trying to crawl out.
I’ve stopped sleeping.
Most nights I lay awake watching CJ sleep beside me; the rise and fall of his chest is the only thing that keeps me from unraveling completely. My hands would twitch under the blanket, itching to move, to check, to get up, to make sure.
If I went anywhere without CJ, security followed, but even with Silas and Mack there, nothing settled inside me. It just meant there were more eyes I couldn’t trust.
Eventually I stopped going out altogether. It was easier.
I stopped eating properly.
Stopped leaving the apartment unless CJ was with me.
I stopped seeing Silas and Mack, too.
I checked the windows constantly. Locked them. Checked again. Then again an hour later, as if something might have changed without me noticing.
Doors too. Always doors.
Locked. Rechecked.
Because I was never fully convinced I hadn’t missed something.
I saw movement in every corner of my vision, felt watched even when I was alone.
I’d sit down, try to breathe, try to convince my body to settle, and then stand up again to check everything one more time.
Just in case.
Because Adrian told me he’d see me soon.
And he always came back.
Always.
* * *
“Baby Boy.”
CJ’s voice cut through the noise in my head like something pulling me back through water.
The panic was still there, thick and spiraling under my skin, but the room started to return in pieces: sound first, then light, then him.
I hadn’t even realized I’d been staring at the wall for nearly twenty minutes.
My eyes found CJ.
He was crouched in front of me, concern carved into every line of his face.
“You with me, baby?”
I forced a smile. It didn’t feel like mine. It felt broken on the way out.
“Yeah.” I knew he didn’t believe it. Not even slightly.
“You don’t have to do that with me, Baby Boy.”
I swallowed hard.
God, I loved that name. It made something in me ache, because I wanted to be his Baby Boy: the one who didn’t flinch at every sound, the one who didn’t live like this. The ache settled deep. I wanted that version of myself so badly it hurt.
But right now everything felt too heavy and too tight in my chest. I was barely fucking holding it together.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” His voice stayed soft.
I pulled the blanket higher, as if it could shield me from his eyes, and looked away. If I kept looking at him, I’d fall apart completely.
And I couldn’t, because I had to stay intact for him.
He was already carrying so much because of me. Because Adrian wanted me back. Because everything led back to me.
CJ leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“I love you.”
I nodded without looking at him, feeling my chin tremble as my eyes started to burn. I couldn’t answer; if I tried, I’d break open and shatter completely.
* * *
That night, the nightmare came harder than ever.
Hands grabbed me as I reached for the door, and it wouldn’t open. It never did, leaving me trapped as the smell of antiseptic filled the air: sharp, cold, and familiar in the worst way.
Adrian’s voice pushed through, hard and cruel: “You belong to me, Elijah. You will be mine again, Elijah.”
I screamed as I felt his finger run down my cheek and heard him speak to me one final time: “You will always belong to me, Elijah.”
My body jolted upright, tears already streaming down my face before I was even fully awake. My chest burned like it had been split open. My heart slammed so hard it felt wrong inside me, as if it didn’t fit anymore.
I didn’t know where I was, and for a second I couldn’t tell if I had escaped or if I was still there. Everything was so dark. I knew there was a door, so I reached for it.
There was no door.
Am I still there? My breath hitched. The line between memory and reality blurred until I couldn’t tell which one I was in.
Did I get out?
Then arms wrapped around me, and I fought them immediately: instinct before thought, screaming again and again. Thrashing. Panicked. Wild.
Fighting Adrian even though he wasn’t in front of me.
I didn’t stop until my voice tore, until my body started to give out on itself. But then I smelled him. It wasn’t antiseptic, or that room.
CJ.
That grounding, familiar scent I knew better than anything. I dragged it into my lungs like it was oxygen I’d been missing for years. And slowly… my body stopped resisting.
I sagged against him: heavy and shaking, broken.
I breathed him in again, and again, until my breath started to match his.
“Hey,” his voice was rough, close, real. “I’ve got you, Baby Boy.”
That name pulled me back harder than anything else.
His voice. His scent. His heartbeat under my cheek. Him.
He rocked me gently, murmuring things I couldn’t fully make out. I didn’t need the words; I could feel them anyway.
“It’s okay.”
I opened my eyes, and CJ was right there, so close we were sharing the same breath. Like he was keeping me tethered to the world just by existing near me.
“I can’t do this anymore.” The words slipped out before I could stop them: raw.
CJ tightened his arms instantly. “Yes, you can.”
“No,” my voice cracked. “I can’t.”
Tears came again, hot and relentless, streaming down my cheeks and landing on the pillow.
“I’m so scared.”
“I know, baby.”
“What if he finds me?”
CJ didn’t answer straight away. That pause hit me like ice, because his pause meant he could.
“What if he takes me?”
CJ tipped my chin up until I had to look at him: his blue eyes steady, focused, unmoving.
“Then he comes through me first,” his voice dropped lower. “And if he does, I’ll kill him.”
“CJ…”
“Yeah, baby?”
I looked at him properly. Really looked at him.
My fingers traced his face as my mind tried to memorize every detail: his tired eyes, the rough stubble I love, especially when he drags his chin against my skin, that dimple that shows when his expression softens.
And beneath it all, the man I love. The man I need.
I need to keep him safe.
I need to keep Deck and Finn safe, too.
The thought landed heavier each time I repeated it in my head, like I was trying to convince myself it wasn’t already decided. But it was. Somewhere inside me, the choice had already been made, even if my heart hadn’t caught up yet.
I knew what I had to do.
And it broke me apart to admit it: not cleanly or neatly. It felt like something tearing, something splitting right down the center of me while I was still lying here holding him.
Because I couldn’t let Adrian find me.
Not here. Not near them. Not anywhere that touched their lives.
If he did, he wouldn’t stop at me. He never had.
My fingers tightened slightly against CJ’s shirt, as if I could anchor myself in him for a few more seconds before I let this go. Just a few more seconds of pretending I got to stay.
But I already knew the truth. I was going to have to run.
“Maybe…” My throat tightened, the word catching like it didn’t want to leave. “Maybe I should leave.”
CJ went still: instantly still in that way he gets when something in him shifts into something sharper, more dangerous.
“No.”
“But…”
“No.”
The second time was firmer, final: like he was trying to stop the idea from even forming inside my head.
“If he can’t find me…”
“NO.”
The word cracked through the room, heavy enough that it felt like it landed in my chest like thunder.
“Don’t,” his voice dropped, shaking. “Don’t you do that to yourself.”
My breath stumbled, and my eyes burned with tears.
“But he’s after me,” my voice, small, broke on the last word. I was frightened in a way I couldn’t hide anymore.
“He’s after us, Eli.”
I shook my head hard, as if I could dislodge the truth if I moved enough, as if I could undo what it meant.
“No.”
“Yes.”
The word wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It settled between us instead: heavy and certain, refusing to bend.
His hands came up then, cradling my face, forcing me to stay with him, forcing me to see him instead of the escape I was already building in my head. His thumbs brushed under my eyes, like he already knew I was seconds away from falling apart.
“Listen to me, Julian Elijah Wolfe.”
My breath caught so hard it hurt. Hearing my full name from him did something to me. It didn’t feel like correction; it felt like being held in place by love so strong it scared me.
Tears spilled before I could stop them: hot, relentless, slipping down my face without permission.
“I love you,” he whispered. His voice cracked on it, just slightly, as if it cost him something to say it this firmly. “There is no version of our story where you walk out that door alone.”
And that broke me. Slowly, like something inside me finally gave up trying to stay intact.
My hands curled into his shirt without me thinking about it, holding on too tight.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered, barely audible. “I don’t know how to leave you.”
My voice collapsed at the end, turning into something raw, small, and completely unguarded.
I breathed in his scent, pulling it deep into my lungs until my body finally surrendered to total exhaustion, slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep in his arms.
* * *
It steadies me for a second, just a second, and then it makes it worse. Because I know what it means to love him like this. To need him like this. To want to stay so badly it hurts to breathe around the thought of leaving.
I need to keep him safe.
I need to keep Deck and Finn safe too.
The thought lands heavier each time I repeat it in my head, like I’m trying to convince myself it isn’t already decided. But it is. Somewhere inside me, the choice has already been made, even if my heart hasn’t caught up yet.
I know what I have to do.
And it breaks me apart to admit it. Not cleanly or neatly. It feels like something tearing, something splitting right down the center of me while I’m still lying here, him holding me.
Because I can’t let Adrian find me.
Not here. Not near them. Not anywhere that touches their lives.
If he does, he won’t stop at me. He never has.
My fingers tighten slightly against CJ’s shirt, like I can anchor myself in him for a few more seconds before I let this go. Just a few more seconds of pretending I get to stay.
But I already know the truth.
I need to run.