16. Ryan #2
Then the chat starts exploding — Callum, Gideon, Clifford, Thomas, Theodore, everyone. Calls being made. Schedules changing. Things getting pulled forward that weren’t supposed to happen yet. The entire fucking machine turning over at once.
Cat holds up a hand. “Shh.” Footsteps outside. Voices. Fuck. She looks at us. “Out. Now.”
Danny glances toward the locked door. “There are people out there.”
Penny points toward the side exit near the equipment room. “That way.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I actually belong in here.”
“Fair.” Kaid grabs Danny by the shoulder and steers him toward the other door. X follows. Iz moves last. He looks at Bella. She looks right back.
“Don’t,” I warn. Neither says a word. Miracles happen.
I catch Ally’s hand before I follow them. “Tonight?”
She nods. “Tonight.”
My thumb brushes the sleeve covering her arm. I can feel the faint swelling beneath the fabric. Roman’s hand. I have to close my eyes for half a second. Then I let her go.
Five days before Victor gets Ally out of the country.
Five days before Switzerland can become anywhere.
Five days before distance can become disappearance.
Arthur has five days to make the law work.
Our dads have five days to make sure Tobias can come with her.
We have five days to stop a plane. And if we can’t — I already know exactly which promise I’m breaking first.
By eleven, I know three things. Arthur hasn’t stopped working. My dad hasn’t stopped pacing. And I have checked the time forty-seven fucking times.
The guest house is quiet around me. Too quiet.
I came out here after dinner because sitting in my bedroom staring across the yard at Ally’s house was making me insane.
Not that this is much better. From the couch I can see the lights through the trees.
Roman’s house. Ally’s bedroom. The place she’s supposed to sleep tonight like we didn’t find out this morning that Victor plans to put her on a plane in five fucking days.
My phone buzzes. I grab it before it finishes vibrating.
Ally: Outside.
I’m moving before I finish reading. I cross the guest house and unlock the side door. She’s standing under the little overhang in black leggings and one of my old Edgewood lacrosse sweatshirts. My chest fucking hurts.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” I look past her. Nothing. No lights moving next door, no doors opening. “How’d you get out?”
“Mom.”
Of course. Jane keeps surprising the shit out of me. “She knows you’re here?”
“She told Dad I went to bed early. She’s keeping an eye on Tobias.” Her expression changes. “She said she’d text if anything changes.”
I hold the door wider. “Come here.”
She barely makes it across the threshold before I grab her.
Carefully. Always fucking carefully now.
One arm around her waist, the other around her shoulders, avoiding the bruises I know are still hidden under my sweatshirt.
Ally wraps herself around me, her face disappearing against my chest. And we just stand there.
The door’s still open. Cold air slips inside. I don’t care. She’s here. That’s the only thought my brain seems capable of producing.
She’s here. She’s fucking here.
“Ryan.”
I close my eyes. “Give me a minute.”
Her arms tighten around me. So I take one. Maybe two. Then I kick the door shut behind her without letting go.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
“I saw you six hours ago.”
“I know.”
“I missed you too.”
She laughs softly against my shirt. It isn’t much of a laugh. Neither of us is any good at pretending tonight.
I finally pull back enough to look at her. Makeup gone. The bruise on her face is fading, but I can still see it. The cut on her lip. Roman. My jaw tightens.
Ally touches my cheek. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Go somewhere else.”
My eyes find hers. “I’m right here.”
“No.” Her thumb brushes beneath my eye. “You’re thinking about him.”
I’m always thinking about him. Roman. Victor. Saturday. Switzerland. Planes. Countries. Every horrible possibility Bella dropped into that locker room this morning.
“I hate looking at what he did to you.”
“I know.”
“I fucking hate it.” I catch her hand and kiss her palm, then her wrist.
She watches me. “Anything from Arthur?”
“Nothing useful yet.” Her face falls. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.”
I could lie. Tell her everything’s handled, that Arthur has some magic legal document coming tomorrow that fixes all of it. But we’ve done enough pretending.
“Everybody’s moving. Arthur’s working every angle he has. My dad’s making calls. So are the others. Kaid and X have been digging all afternoon. Iz disappeared into whatever terrifying internet hole he lives in. Danny’s helping Arthur organize everything from Thursday.”
“But?”
“Five days is five days.”
She nods. “Yeah.”
I bring her farther inside, and we end up on the couch, Ally curled against my side with her legs across mine.
For a while neither of us says anything.
I run my fingers through her hair. She plays with the drawstring on my sweatpants.
The TV stays off. There’s nothing I want competing with the sound of her breathing.
“What if they can’t stop it?”
There it is. The question I’ve been avoiding all day.
“They will.”
“Ryan.”
“They fucking will.”
She lifts her head. “That’s not what I asked.”
I stare at her. Her eyes are scared. So are mine. I hate that I can’t give her the answer she deserves.
Finally I touch her face. “Then I come get you.”
Her expression crumples slightly. “What if you don’t know where I am?”
“I find out.”
“What if Bella’s right and Victor moves me?”
“I find you.”
“Ryan—“
“Ally.” I take her face between my hands.
“There isn’t a version of this where I decide you’re too far away.
” Her eyes fill. “I don’t care if you’re in Switzerland or France or some fucking island he owns in the middle of nowhere.
I don’t care how many planes I have to get on or laws I have to break. ”
“International laws?”
“Especially those.” That gets the tiniest smile. Good. I press my forehead to hers. “I will find you.”
“What about Tobias?”
“We get him too.”
“And the baby?”
My hand moves to her stomach. “Our baby isn’t going anywhere without me coming after them.”
Her hand covers mine. For a second we’re both quiet. Then she whispers it. “I’m scared.”
That hurts more than anything else tonight. “Me too.” Her eyes lift, like she wasn’t expecting it. Neither was I. But it’s true. “I’m fucking terrified.” She climbs closer. I pull her into me. “Saturday keeps playing in my head. Every time I look at a clock, I’m counting.”
“I’ve been doing it too.”
Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Five days.
I look down at my hand over her stomach. “Our baby currently looks a little like a plum.”
“Beautiful plum.” She laughs. Actually laughs. My chest loosens. Just a little. Then she shifts and winces.
I straighten immediately. “What?”
“My arm.”
I look at the sleeve. “Can I?”
She nods. I carefully push it up. The bruises are changing color now — still shaped like fingers, still unmistakably hands. My stomach turns. I touch the clear skin beneath them. Never the bruises.
“I wanted to kill him when I saw these.”
“I know.”
“I still do.”
“I know.” Her fingers slide into my hair. “But you didn’t.”
“Arthur’s very proud.”
She smiles. “I am too.”
“That matters more.”
Something in her expression softens. I lower the sleeve again.
Then I look at her. Really look. Hair messy from sneaking across the yard.
No makeup. Healing lip. My sweatshirt swallowing her.
A tiny swell beneath it nobody would notice unless they knew exactly where to look.
I know. I know every fucking inch of her.
And suddenly it doesn’t feel like enough.
“You’re staring.”
“I like looking at you.”
“You’ve seen me before.”
Yeah. That’s the fucking problem.
I’ve seen her a thousand times. Across classrooms. At the lake. In my car. In my bed. Laughing. Pissed at me. Trying not to smile. Falling asleep against my chest. And suddenly my brain is trying to catalog every version, like five days isn’t enough time to remember all of them.
I brush my thumb over her cheek. “What did your dress look like?”
Her eyes narrow. “No.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
“Color?”
“No.”
“Ally.”
“You’re supposed to be surprised.”
“I hate surprises.”
She smiles. And there she is. My Ally. Not Roman’s daughter. Not Tremblay’s fiancée. Not a case Arthur is building or a girl everybody is trying to rescue. Just her.
I lean forward and kiss her. Softly at first, because of her lip.
Because of everything. She kisses me back, her fingers curling into my shirt.
And something changes. Not desperate. Not exactly.
Quieter than that. I kiss her again because I want to remember how she feels when she isn’t afraid.
She touches my face like she’s doing the same thing.
Tonight isn’t going to fix Saturday. It won’t stop the plane, get Tobias out of that house, put Roman behind bars, or make Victor disappear.
Tomorrow we’ll still wake up with four days left.
But tonight she’s here. She chose to come here.
To me. And I need one night where Victor doesn’t get to exist between us.
I pull back. “You sure?”
Ally’s eyes stay on mine. “Yes.”
I kiss her forehead. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth. Then I take her hand and lead her toward the bedroom.
I don’t rush it. The guest house is quiet except for our footsteps and the faint tick of the clock I already hate.
Ally follows me without asking where. She already knows.
Tonight isn’t a fight. It isn’t making up from one, either.
It’s the last version of us that still has five days on the calendar and a locked door and no one watching.
I stop at the foot of the bed and turn her toward me. “Hey.”