Page 4 of Don't Leave
His blue-gray eyes sweep over the exiting crowd. A pit the size of Texas grows in my belly as his gaze sweeps over the exiting crowd. Unsure who he’s searching for, I duck my head and hope that my long curtain of black hair will shield me from his view so I can escape.
Most of the girls on campus would be ecstatic to catch Luke’s eye. He’s tall, probably around six foot or so, with broad shoulders. He’s muscular from skating hard at practice and lifting weights in the gym several times a week. He’s handsome with blond hair and blue-green eyes.
Swoonworthy, even.
But that’s not what I see when I look at him.
I see is someone who has the power to resurrect my past and bring the fledgling success I’ve found at Western crashing down around my head.
The moment his gaze locks on me, the delicate hair at the nape of my neck prickles with awareness. All thoughts that this is simply a case of paranoia vanishes as he rises to his feet and pushes his way through hundreds of students who are trying to flee the building. As much as I want to pretend I don’t see him, it’s pointless.
Instead of darting away like every instinct inside is screaming for me to do, I straighten my shoulders before forcing my feet to shuffle forward.
My muscles tighten as he eats up the distance between us.
A million memories somersault unwantedly through my head as our gazes collide. I can’t help but remember how he came to my rescue and fought off the three guys who’d pinned me down before wrapping a shirt around my naked body. He murmured soft words I can’t remember before gathering me up in his arms and carrying me to his truck. A heavy silence had fallen over us as I’d sat huddled in the front seat during the short drive to the dorms. He’d stayed in my room with me until I’d fallen asleep. The next morning, I’d tried to make myself believe that it had been a terrible nightmare, but I knew the truth. Could see the bruises on my wrists.
My life had been spiraling downward for months. What had happened that Saturday night at an off-campus house party was rock bottom.
Heat and shame flood my cheeks as our eyes stay locked. Luke is a stark reminder of the mistakes I’d made last year.
The reason I’d come to Western was for a fresh start.
A clean slate.
A do-over.
I’d wanted to move on and leave the past where it belonged—in the past. At Dartmouth. A good five hundred miles away from where I now was.
But how could I do that with Luke here?
How could I forget about everything that had happened when he alone had the power to dredge it all back up again? When he could shatter the fragile peace, the hard-fought success, I’d found over the last two months?
His expression remains shuttered, making it impossible to decipher what he’s thinking. “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
The way his gaze probes mine makes me feel as if he’s silently feeling me out. Picking through all the secrets I’ve locked deep inside.
I’m tempted to shake my head, but I need to know what he wants. This isn’t the first time he’s sought me out. But it needs to be the last. Maybe if I give him a few minutes of my time, he’ll leave me alone. It feels like everywhere I go, there he is. I want to believe it’s a string of coincidences, but something tells me that’s not the case.
My teeth sink into my lower lip as I reluctantly say, “I only have a couple of minutes and then I’ve got somewhere to be.”
That’s a lie.
I’m done with classes for the afternoon, but don’t want him to know that. If nothing else comes out of this, he needs to understand that there is nothing between us. And there’s certainly no reason for us to speak again. As that thought slams through my head, guilt swiftly follows.
Because he saved me that night.
Saved me from ugly, unspeakable things those three guys were intent on doing.
Things I can’t bear to dwell on. If I do, anxiety will flood my system and my chest will constrict. Nausea will churn in my belly, perspiration will spring to my palms, and my thoughts will race as fast as my pulse.
And then I won’t be able to breathe. It’s like I’m being choked from the inside out.
For the past ten months, those debilitating feelings of anxiety have been a constant companion. I’ve only started to master the symptoms through relaxation, breathing techniques, and regular sessions with my therapist. I can’t—no, Iwon’tallow someone from my past to show up and derail all my hard work.
As much as I want to forget, there’s a tiny part inside me that wonders if maybe it’s something I need to remember. This is the one person who came to my rescue when no one else did.
Without him…
