Chapter 67
ALEX
The world slowed as I breathed in Kai’s scent while he held me close, his arms wrapped firmly around me like he was trying to keep me from falling apart. Tears streaked down my face, soaking into his jumper, but I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t even try.
I had never told anyone this before. Never said it out loud to anyone except Mum. Never let anyone see the truth.
And he cared. He really cared.
He didn’t think it was ‘boisterous. ’
He didn’t think I deserved it.
He didn’t look at me like I was weak.
For the first time in my life, I felt like someone truly understood me.
I pulled away, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, and Kai leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gentleness of it nearly undid me all over again.
“Come on, let’s go,” he said quietly, straightening up, wiping at his face with the back of his hand like he could erase what had just happened.
“What?” I blinked, rubbing my eyes as if I’d misheard, my body still heavy from holding him.
“We’re going to go to mine.” He was already pushing himself to his feet, movements sharp with adrenaline, like he’d made the decision before he even stood.
“No, I can’t.” I shook my head quickly, panic rising fast and hot in my chest. My hands hovered uselessly in the air, as if I could physically push the idea away. “I need to get back, before he realises I’m gone.”
“No.” Kai’s voice cut through the space between us, firm and unshakeable. He stepped closer, shaking his head once, jaw tight. “You’re not staying in that house.”
“You don’t understand,” I said, standing up too fast, my heartbeat thundering against my ribs. My breath came shallow, my hands trembling at my sides.
“Oh, I understand.” He met my eyes, something fierce and terrified burning behind his. “You go back into that house and you might not come out again.” His chest rose and fell too quickly, like the thought alone winded him.
“It’s not that bad, Kai.” I wrapped my arms around myself, shrinking in on instinct, the words coming out small and defensive.
“Alex, look at you.” His gaze swept over me - the shaking, the red eyes, the bare feet on the cold ground. His face twisted, a mix of anger and heartbreak. “You don’t even have shoes on for fucks sake.”
Then he shook his head, more to himself than to me, like he was drawing a line he refused to cross.
“No,” he said again, quieter but even more certain. “I’m not doing it.” His hands curled into fists at his sides, not in anger at me - in fear for me. “I’m not letting you go back in that house.”
“You don’t know what he’s like-”
“I don’t care what he’s like. I only care about you. I’m not going to leave you there, Alex,” he said, his voice rising despite himself.
Kai stepped forward as he spoke; the words pulled out of him like he couldn’t hold them back anymore. His hands were shaking, chest rising and falling too fast, like the thought of me going back physically hurt him.
“Kai, please, it will make it worse.” My voice cracked, and I reached out instinctively, fingers brushing his sleeve, as if touching him might make him understand.
“It’s already worse, Alex.” He said it with a rawness that made my stomach twist. He took another step closer, eyes locked on mine, refusing to let me look away.
“How many times has he hurt you?” His voice softened, but the tremor in it betrayed him.
His hand lifted, hovering near my arm, not touching - asking permission without words.
“How many times has he made you cry?” His gaze flicked to my face, to the dried tear tracks, to the fresh ones gathering again. His jaw clenched, like he was swallowing something sharp.
“Made you hide?” The last word came out quieter, almost a whisper.
His eyes scanned my face - the bruises, the swelling around my eyes, the uneven hair - then dropped to my bare feet, to the way I was shaking, to the way I was holding myself, and his breath hitched.
He looked at me like he was seeing the whole truth at once - every bruise I hadn’t shown him, every fear I hadn’t said aloud, every night I’d spent pretending I was fine.
His shoulders tensed, his jaw tightening as if he was holding back something sharp and painful.
“You never fell off your bike, did you?” he asked..
The question landed between us like a blow.
His voice was soft - too soft - the kind of softness that comes when someone already knows the answer but needs to hear it anyway. He took a small step closer, eyes locked on mine, searching, pleading, terrified of what he was about to hear.
My fingers curled into my palms, nails digging into skin as if I could hold the truth inside by force.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
And the silence - my silence - told him everything.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his shoulders rising and falling in one tight, exhausted breath. “Either you come with me now, or I’m going to the police.”
The words weren’t loud - they didn’t need to be. They landed like a door slamming shut.
My stomach dropped. A cold rush shot through my chest, my breath catching as panic surged up my throat. I took a half-step back without meaning to, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.
“Kai…” I whispered, but the rest of the sentence died before it reached my mouth.
He looked down at me then - really looked - and there was something raw in his eyes, something terrified and furious and heartbreakingly determined. His hand fell from his face, hanging uselessly at his side, trembling just slightly.
“I’m serious,” he said, voice steadier now, but only because he was holding it together by force.
“I’m not letting you walk back into that house.
” His green eyes held mine, steady and unflinching, the kind of look that didn’t leave room for argument.
He wasn’t joking. I could tell. He wasn’t going to leave me alone in this - not now, not after everything he’d seen.
“Okay,” I sighed, the word leaving me like the last bit of air in my lungs. My shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of me all at once.
It wasn’t agreement - not really. It was surrender. Exhaustion.
The kind that came from running out of places to hide. My hands dropped uselessly to my sides, fingers trembling, and for a moment I just stood there, staring at the ground, trying to steady the shaking in my chest.
Kai’s breath caught - a tiny, relieved sound he didn’t mean to make - and he stepped closer, like he was afraid I might collapse or change my mind or disappear entirely.
His hand hovered near my back, not touching yet, but close enough that I could feel the warmth of him, the certainty, the promise.
He walked carefully next to me, taking slow steps with me, matching my pace like he was afraid I might fall if he moved too fast.
When we reached his car, he opened the door for me, one hand braced on the frame, the other hovering near my back like he was preparing to catch me if I swayed.
I bent down, but moved too fast - pain shot up and down my body like someone had yanked a wire tight inside me, and my knees buckled.
The world tilted violently as I doubled over, one hand flying to my stomach, the other gripping the door to keep myself upright. My breath came out in short, sharp bursts I couldn’t control, each one tighter than the last. My vision blurred at the edges, the crisp air slicing through my lungs.
Kai was at my side in an instant.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tighter than he meant it to be as his hand closed around my arm, steady and warm. His fingers tightened just enough to keep me upright, his breath catching as he watched the pain ripple through me. He stepped in closer without thinking, instinctively protective.
I nodded, even though the ache still pulsed beneath my skin, even though my breath staggered in my throat like it was trying to escape. The movement was small, shaky, barely there - more reflex than truth.
I tried to hide it - the wince, the tremor, the way my fingers curled into my jumper - but it didn’t matter. He felt the flinch run through me. He saw the way I pressed a hand to my stomach. He heard the tiny, broken sound I tried to swallow.
“Alex,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hand still on my arm, grounding me.
“You don’t have to pretend with me.” His voice softened, the edges smoothing out, fear turning into something gentler.
His thumb brushed once against my sleeve, barely a touch, but enough to steady the shaking in my knees.
A tear rolled down my cheek, and I nodded, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry.” The apology slipped out before I could stop it, small and instinctive, the kind of apology you give when you’ve been taught that your pain is an inconvenience.
“Don’t apologise, Alex. Not for this,” he said, holding on to me. His grip tightened just slightly, warm and certain, like he was trying to anchor me to the ground. His eyes softened, his breath shaking as he looked at me like he saw everything I’d been trying to hide.
“I just need a moment,” I said, catching my breath, moving my hand from his door to his arm.
My fingers wrapped lightly around his sleeve, more for balance than anything else, but the contact steadied me.
My chest rose and fell in uneven pulls, each breath a little too sharp, a little too tight.
I kept my eyes on the ground, trying to blink away the dizziness. Trying to dull the throb in my chest.
He nodded his head, worry lines prominent on his brow. His jaw tightened as he watched me, like he was fighting the urge to scoop me up and put me somewhere safe immediately.
“Take your time,” he murmured, voice low, steady, even though I could see the fear flickering behind his eyes. He angled his body slightly toward mine, shielding me from the cold, from the world, from everything that had hurt me.