Page 29 of Redeemed

Peeking over Colton’s shoulder, I see the smaller guy shrug. “Just making sure she actually gets back okay. I think that’s a pretty normal thing to do, under the circumstances.”

“Fine,” Athelia grumbles. “But you’re not fucking touching her.”

The buffer guy holds up his hands. “Never said we were going to.”

For the entire walk back, I cling to Colton. I don’t know if it’s because I need him or if it’s because I’m terrified of him. Can it be both?

A few people try to stop us and ask if I’m okay, but Colton tells them all off. Everyone snaps their mouths shut and keeps moving, and I realize it’s exactly what people have said about him since I got here. His father holds a lot of power in this town.

No one questions him.

No onecan.

Once we get to our dorm, Athelia unlocks the door, and Colton carries me to my bed. He sets me down so I’m sitting on the edge, and then he kneels between my legs. Just as I’m about to question why, I feel him untying my shoes.

“I can do that,” Athelia says. “You need to get out.”

Colton sets my right shoe on the ground and moves to my left. “I’m not leaving her.”

“You don’t have a fucking choice. Get out.”

“No.”

I don’t know what to think of that. Colton is speaking to Athelia the same way he spoke to the people we passed on our way here. That doesn’t feel right.

What ifhemakesherleave?

No, no, no.

When Colton is done with my other shoe, I crawl onto the bed and drag myself as far away from him as possible. I place my pillow between us, needing some kind of cushion between us for when he snaps.

He always snaps.

“Colton. I know you care about her, and that’s why you need to leave. You being here ishurting her.”

“But—”

“Go. You’re only going to get her more worked up.”

Colton’s eyes find mine, and where I expect to see fury, I see… helplessness. He steps toward me, but Athelia places a hand on his chest.

“I’ll text you updates from her phone, but you have to go.”

His gaze is still locked with mine. When he nods, I can tell he’s fighting himself, forcing himself to listen to her.

Forcing himself to abandon me.

I want to tell him I’m sorry, but I can’t. All I can do is watch through my tears as he slowly backs away.

“I’ll be in the hallway,” he says softly.

Athelia shakes her head. “You don’t have to—”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’ll be right outside the door. If she needs anything, you tell me. All right?”

“Fine. Now go.”

He does, finally, and Athelia locks the door behind him. As soon as she does, the tension in my chest dissolves. In here, Isaiah can’t reach me—in whatever form he chooses to appear in.

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