Page 48 of Redeemed

Still, his threat echoes through my mind, furthering my panic. Maybe he’s finally snapped, or I’ve finally pushed him over the edge. He could turn on me at any moment and switch from hurling insults to fists.

That’s what men do, isn’t it?

They always lose control.

“Are you going to scream?” he grits out.

Frantically, I shake my head. He releases me a second later, and I buckle over, gasping for air. My knees hit the hard floor, and he backs away like he’s disgusted with me.

Because he is.

“Who were you running from?”

“My h—”

I clap both my hands over my mouth. The lack of oxygen must be doing things to my brain because I can’t say that. Not to someone like Colton.

He nudges me with his boot impatiently. “Answer me.”

But I can’t. Isaiah isn’t here—I must’ve mistaken Colton for him upstairs—but my body can’t seem to comprehend that. My mind is spiraling, my throat tightening, my chest squeezing.

It’s not him.

He’s not here.

He can’t find you.

But my usual internal chant doesn’t work, and I only sink further into my panic.

“Serio—are you fucking kidding me?” Crouching down, Colton grabs my chin and forces me to look up at him. There’s no sympathy in his expression, only annoyance mixed with pure hatred.

We’ve been in this situation plenty of times before, years ago. Back then, he was more gentle. Patient. He’s who I ran to when I felt unsafe. Him, Lucas, and Xander.

I know better than to expect Colton to help me now, but I can’t help the pleading look in my eyes. Can’t help the way the wordpleasefalls pathetically from my lips. I hate being alone like this. It makes everything feel so much worse.

Colton scoffs. “You had my affection once, angel. You’re the one who threw it away.”

His words strike as hard as I know he meant them to, and I wince. He’s right. I’m the one who ruined things between us, and I did it despite knowing how much it would hurt him.

“So no,” he says lowly, darkly. “You lost the right to ask me for help years ago.”

With that, Colton releases me with a shove. The last thing I see before I dissolve into a fit of panicked sobs is his boots crossing the landing and disappearing up the steps.

. . .

It’s past noon by the time I’m able to get to my feet. Not a single person entered the stairwell for the entirety of my panic attack. Everyone always takes the elevators, and it’s not like many people are studying on Halloween of all days, anyway.

My legs are shaky as I make my way down the rest of the stairs. When I exit the library, I wince at the bright afternoon sunlight. It’s a chilly day, but the sun is warm on my back as I make my way to my dorm, head down.

It’s at times like these when I miss the boys so much that it physically hurts. They were always there for me, and I threw it all away.

Picking up my pace, I glance behind me. No one is following me—not Colton, not Isaiah.

Have you seen this girl anywhere?

Did my brain really make up those words? The exact timbre of his voice? Was there even a blond man—other than Colton—in the library today? How the hell am I supposed to distinguish reality from my fears?

Those questions haunt me until I make it back to my dorm. The moment the door shuts behind me, tension floods from my body, and I almost crumple to the floor. Athelia’s concerned expression is the only thing that keeps me upright.

---