EMMIE
“Holy shit,” I whisper, sitting forward in the back of the car Cruz and Xander settled me into after we fled the Cirillo hotel.
“It’s okay. Just breathe,” Cruz says as his hand gently rubs up and down my back.
The car jolts forward and a sob erupts from my throat.
It’s stupid. I set this whole thing in motion, and here I am crying because I just executed it perfectly.
I knew Theo would be angry, shocked, obviously. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the utterly wrecked expression on his face as realisation hit that I was taking control, that I was walking away despite everything we’d said, everything he’d done.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” I chant as my breathing becomes more and more erratic.
“Deep breaths, kid. You got this.” Cruz’s voice is soft as he coaches me through my panic attack.
I have no idea how long I sit there, trying to get a handle on my breathing, but when I finally rest back, exhaustion hits me like I’ve never felt before.
Dropping my head back, I close my eyes as the movement of the car helps to relax me.
“I can’t believe that worked,” I mutter into the silence.
“Ouch, you didn’t trust me, kid. That hurts,” Cruz jokes.
Reaching over, I find his hand, needing something, anything to help settle what’s warring within me.
“I didn’t think he’d let me go.”
“Maybe he’s not a complete fucking tool after all.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“No, he’s not.”
“You ready to talk about it yet?”
I shake my head.
“Tomorrow,” I promise him. “Right now, I just need…” I trail off, because quite honestly, I have no idea what I need.
I thought it was this. Space. But sitting here now, all I can see is his face as he discovered that he’d lost me.
It shouldn't matter. How he feels about all of this after all the bullshit he’s pulled, it really shouldn’t matter.
He’s lied to me, held me captive. Done so many other things that I’m not even aware of, I’m sure.
“You got it, kid.”
Cruz wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his warmth.
By some miracle, I actually manage to drift off, only coming to again when the car rolls to a stop.
I blink, looking out the window, to try to locate where we are.
“A hotel. We figured the compound and my house would be the first places he’d try.”
“Y-yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “Makes sense.”
All the doors open and the bitter midnight air rushes inside, making me shiver. It’s not until I begin sliding out that I realise I’m wearing someone’s hoodie.