Chapter 67 #2
When I finally straightened, he looked at me, his eyes searching my face. “Alright now?” There was a tightness in his voice he couldn’t hide, like he was holding his breath for my answer.
I nodded, swallowing hard. “I think so.”
“Let’s try again,” he said gently.
He guided me toward the open car door, moving slowly, matching every shaky step I took. His hand stayed firm at my side, not pushing, just there - a point of balance I didn’t realise I needed until I felt myself leaning into it.
When I bent to sit, pain flared again, sharp and sudden, and I sucked in a breath through my teeth. Kai tightened his hold instantly, supporting my weight as I lowered myself into the seat.
“Easy,” he whispered, his breath brushing my ear. “I’ve got you. Just go slow.”
He helped me down inch by inch, one hand braced behind my back, the other steadying my arm so I didn’t have to hold myself up. When I finally sank into the seat, he let out a shaky breath - one he’d clearly been holding the whole time.
He crouched beside me, one hand still resting lightly on my knee, grounding me.
“You’re alright,” he said quietly, eyes searching mine. “You’re safe. I’m right here.”
His thumb brushed once against my knee - a small, instinctive gesture - before he pulled back just enough to close the door gently, like even the sound might hurt me.
He circled around the front of the car, his steps quick but controlled - like he didn’t want to startle me, but he also couldn’t get to me fast enough.
He slid into the driver’s seat and immediately turned toward me, not even reaching for the keys yet. His eyes swept over my face, my posture, the way I was holding myself too still.
“You’re freezing.” He muttered to himself and immediately turned the engine on, heating up the car.
The warmth from the vents kept rolling over me in soft waves, sinking into my skin, loosening everything I’d been holding tight.
I stared at my hands for a moment, still curled in my jumper, still trembling faintly.
“Thank you,” I muttered, my voice small, rough around the edges.
Kai’s head turned toward me immediately.
He didn’t smile - not really - but something in his expression eased, like a knot in his chest finally loosened. The tension in his shoulders dropped a little, the hard line of his jaw softening.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, voice soft, warm. “Just warm up.”
I forced a small smile his way, and he looked at me with those sympathetic eyes.
The ones I hated. The ones that made me feel seen in ways I wasn’t ready for.
But I couldn’t be annoyed at him. I would’ve looked at him the same way if he was in my state, bruised and shaking and trying to pretend he wasn’t falling apart.
He knew that. I knew that. So I let the moment pass.
The drive to his was a quiet one. Like Kai didn’t want to say anything.
Or maybe it was just that he didn’t know what to say.
The heater hummed softly, warm air brushing my face, my hands, the ache in my ribs.
Streetlights slid across the dashboard in slow, gentle stripes, each one catching the edge of his jaw, the tight line of his mouth.
He kept glancing at me - tiny, quick looks, like he was checking I was still breathing, still upright, still here. Every time he did, he’d tighten his grip on the wheel, knuckles going pale for a second before he forced them to relax.
I stared out the window, watching the dark blur pass, my breath fogging the glass. The warmth helped, but the ache underneath everything stayed, pulsing in slow, heavy waves. I shifted once, trying to ease the pressure on my ribs, and Kai’s head snapped toward me before he caught himself.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, not pushing, not prying - just checking.
I nodded, even though we both knew it wasn’t the whole truth.
He didn’t call me out on it. He just nodded back, eyes softening for a heartbeat before he returned them to the road.
Kai pulled into his driveway with the same careful quiet he’d kept the whole ride, like any sudden movement might undo the fragile calm I’d managed to hold onto. The engine ticked softly as he turned it off, the heater still blowing warm air across my face.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward me, his voice low.
“Alright,” he murmured. “Let’s get you inside.”
“Are you sure your mum will be okay with this?” I asked, suddenly feeling the reality of the situation. “She won’t… like be annoyed at you… or me.”
“No,” he said quietly, shaking his head once. “She won’t be annoyed.”
His voice had that certainty he only used when he meant every word.
“What are you going to tell her?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly. The question felt too big, too real, like I’d just stepped over a line I couldn’t step back from.
He exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cool air between us. Then he shook his head, just once, steady and sure.
“I’ll think of something,” he said, but it only made my anxiety worsen.
“I can’t do this,” I said, shaking my head.
“I can’t just stay with you. He’s going to look for me, Kai.
” My breath caught, panic rising fast and sharp.
“He’ll find me. If he finds me with you, your mum…
” The thought hit me like a punch. My stomach twisted.
“T-This is a mistake, Kai,” I stammered, shaking my head hard.
Panic clawed up my throat before I could stop it. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
My hand grabbed at his sleeve, desperate to undo the last ten minutes. “Take me back… You have to take me back.”
“Alex.” Kai’s voice was soft, steady, too close. Before I could pull away, his hands cupped my cheeks, warm against my tear-damp skin. “Hey. Look at me.”
“I can’t-” The word broke apart as my ribs seized, sharp pain folding me in half. I pressed a hand to my side, gasping. “Kai, I can’t-he’s going to-he’s going to come back and-”
“Alex.” He leaned in until our foreheads nearly touched, his voice low, grounding, pulling me back from the edge. “You’re safe. Right now, you’re safe.”
I shook my head, breath hitching, my whole body trembling under his hands. “He’ll find me,” I whispered. “H-He always finds me.”
“Alex, breathe,” he murmured.
“I can’t,” I whispered, shaking so hard my teeth almost chattered.
“Yes, you can.” His voice stayed calm, even though I could feel the tension in him - the fear, the urgency. “In… and out. Just like that. I’m right here.”
I tried. God, I tried.
My gaze locked on the rise and fall of his chest, my breaths uneven at first, then slowly syncing with his. My shoulders loosened by degrees. The tightness in my lungs easing a fraction. My vision steadying. The shaking finally dulled.
He didn’t look away. Not once.
When I finally managed a full breath, he nodded, relief softening the hard line of his jaw. “There you go.”
Heat rushed to my face. I wiped at my cheeks with the sleeve of his jumper, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, and when I finally glanced up, he was smiling - small, tired, but real. Something in my chest loosened at the sight of it, like I’d been bracing for disappointment and found the opposite instead.
“Don’t apologise,” he went on, his voice soft but certain. “I know that you’re scared. But I’m not going to let you get hurt again.”
The way he said it - not dramatic, not loud, just steady - hit harder than anything else. Grounding. Trusting. Like he meant every word, like he wasn’t afraid of the weight of them.
And for a moment, just a moment, I let myself believe him.
Kai’s thumb brushed the tear from my cheek so gently it almost undid me.
“Okay,” he said, voice low, steady in a way I wasn’t, eyes locked onto mine.
I nodded because speaking felt impossible. My throat was tight, my chest aching, and if I tried to talk, I knew it would all come out broken.
He didn’t push. He just looked at me with that sympathetic look again.
“Are you ready to go in?” he asked, and I sighed, eyes flicking to the house. He wasn’t going to let me go home. He wasn’t going to drop this.
So I nodded again.
Not because I felt ready. Not because the fear had gone. But because he was looking at me like he wasn’t going to let me fall apart alone.
He came around to the passenger side and opened the door. The night air rushed in, sharp against my skin, but he stepped close enough that it didn’t swallow me whole.
“Do you think you can get out by yourself?” he asked.
For a second, I just stared at him - at the way he stood angled toward me, ready to catch me without making it obvious, at the way his hand hovered near my arm but didn’t touch until I gave him something, anything.
My ribs throbbed, legs felt like they weren’t entirely mine and the thought of standing made my stomach twist.
But the thought of admitting that out loud felt worse.
“I…” My voice cracked. I swallowed, trying again. “I don’t know.”
Kai nodded once, slow, like he’d expected that. Like he wasn’t disappointed. Like he wasn’t going to make me feel small for it.
“Alright,” he murmured, stepping a little closer. “Then we’ll do it together.”
He didn’t reach for me immediately. He waited - giving me the chance to pull back, to say no, to pretend I was fine.
I didn’t.
His hand settled on my forearm, warm and steady, grounding me in a way nothing else had all night.
“Alright,” he murmured, “let’s get you up.”
His hand slid from my forearm to my elbow, steady and warm, giving me something solid to hold onto without making me feel like I was being lifted or carried.
He angled his body so I could lean into him if I needed to - and I did.
The moment I tried to move, my ribs pulled tight and my legs wobbled beneath me.
Kai felt it instantly.
“I’ve got you,” he said, voice low, grounding. “Just take it slow.”
I braced a hand against the seat, trying to push myself upright. My breath hitched, pain flaring sharp and hot under my ribs. Before I could fold in on myself, Kai’s arm came around my back - not grabbing, not trapping, just supporting.
“Easy,” he murmured, his breath brushing my temple. “Don’t rush it.”
I leaned into him, my forehead brushing his shoulder for a second I hadn’t meant to give. His arm tightened just enough to keep me steady, his other hand guiding mine to the edge of the door so I had something to hold onto.
“Good,” he said softly. “You’re doing fine.”
My feet touched the ground, unsteady but there. Kai stayed close, matching my weight, adjusting without making a big deal of it.
“Just breathe,” he said, voice steady as a heartbeat. “I’m right here.”
And then I straightened, exhaling slowly. My whole body felt like it was made of glass, but I managed to get upright without collapsing back into the seat.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, eyes fixed somewhere near his shoulder instead of his face. I didn’t trust myself to look at him - not when everything inside me felt raw and too close to the surface.
He didn’t make me. He just smiled - small, tired, but warm enough to steady me again.
“Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the house as he stepped back just enough to give me space, but not so far that I felt alone. His hand hovered near my arm, ready if I needed it, not assuming I would.
The porch light spilled across the path, soft and golden, and the house looked impossibly safe compared to the cold night pressing in around us.
I walked slowly, hand pressed to my ribs, palms wet with nerves. Every breath felt too loud in my own ears, too shaky, too close to breaking. And somehow Kai sensed it - the way he always did, like my fear was something he could feel through the air between us.
He glanced over, and when our eyes met for half a second, he smiled. Not big. Not bright. Just soft. Steady. The kind of smile that didn’t ask anything of me.
“It’s going to be alright,” he said.
Something in me loosened at the sound of it - not all the way, not enough to stop the trembling.
But enough.