But somehow, I healed him. Somehow, he is sitting in front of me. Somehow, he’s here. Alive. I don’t know how to wrap my mind around it. I want to run up to him and jump into his arms, but another part of me is afraid of doing anything that’ll put him in even more danger. I mean, he died. He died because Dravin wanted information. Will I be able to protect him if that happens again?
I don’t want to push him away anymore. I want him. Really bad. But I want him to live even more so. He keeps turning around and watching me. He’s holding the pet carrier with Olive in his lap. I want to pet Olive and have her comfort me, but I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to answer any questions, so I let her stay with him.
Do I want to be with Colton? Yes, I do. Ever since I first met him, I have felt a pull toward him. Sure, he’s incredibly good-looking, but there are so many other reasons. He helped me feel again. After my mom died, I shut myself off. I didn’t want to open up to anyone because I was afraid of getting hurt. Ever since I met him in the bookstore, I’ve unlocked the door, and he pushed it open, cracking my walls in the process.
He can be stubborn, frustrating, and just about every adjective you can think of, but it shows that he cares. He doesn’t look at me as the prophecy girl and never has. He sees Ryanne. I’ve tried so many times to convince myself otherwise, but I can’t because I know the truth. He sees me for me and nothing more.
When I saw Dravin plunge that dagger into his side, it felt like I was the one who was stabbed. When I ran over to him and realized he was gone, it felt like part of me left with him. He broke down the wall and left me broken. I lost it. I don’t know if I can survive losing him again.
I keep picturing him lying there, blood pooling around his body onto the cold hard floor. His skin already looked so pale. Death works fast. I can feel the tears welling in the corners of my eyes. I’ve cried too much lately. I didn’t know it was possible to shed so many tears. I turn around and look out the back window. For some reason, I expect Dravin to show up behind us and find a way to take me back to that cell or to take Colton away from me again.
The only thing behind us is road. There are other cars following. Biting my lip, I turn back around. Colton’s watching me again. My gaze meets his momentarily before I look away. I honestly have no idea what to do right now.
Liam must have guessed my thoughts because he wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me toward him. I rest my head on his shoulder and let a few tears fall. Burying my face in his shirt, I let the movement of the car and the steady rise and fall of Liam’s chest lull me to sleep.
Opening my eyes, I look around. The high beam ceiling extends upwards to a point. The walls are painted a soft yellow. The lighting from the small lamp to my right casts long shadows throughout the room. A large brick fireplace extends up the length of the wall. Blinking, I sit up and look around. I am lying down on a large sectional couch. This navy blue fabric couch is large enough to fit all of us. I hear voices behind me. Turning around, I see everyone seated at a large wooden oval kitchen table. I rub my eyes with my large sweatshirt sleeves and fix my clothing.
I don’t know whose sweatshirt I am wearing, but I was cold this morning. Rummaging through the laundry room, I found it folded on top, so I threw it on. I pull the sweatshirt down. It almost completely covers my shorts. When my arms are straight, the sleeves hang past my hands, so I know that it’s one of the guys’.
Standing up, I drag my feet and walk into the kitchen. I am still tired, but my body is stiff which means I’ve probably been sleeping for a while. I run a hand through my hair as I enter the kitchen. I sit down in a chair next to Logan and stare down at the table. Squinting, I try to adjust to the bright lights above the table.
Someone elbows me in the sensitive area under my ribs. I jump back. “Huh?”
Logan, Liam, and Colton all laugh at me. “Did you hear what I asked you?”
“Umm…” I try to remember if I heard anyone ask me any questions, but I don’t remember anything. “No.”
“How are you feeling?” Logan asks me.
“Oh. Fine, I guess. I’m just a little tired. Not sleeping much at night is starting to get to me.” I yawn into the sleeve of the sweatshirt. “Hey, whose sweatshirt is this?”
Logan, Colton, and Liam all shrug. I lean forward on the table. I ask Bragden, David, and Larkin, who are sitting on the opposite end. “It’s mine,” Larkin says.
“Oh, I’m borrowing your sweatshirt,” I tell him with a smile.
Larkin starts laughing and replies, “Thanks for the heads up.”