Chapter 19

Nineteen

Voices filtered into my mind like faint echoes through a thick fog, their urgency pulling me back to some semblance of awareness.

"She needs a safe place," Liam’s voice said firmly, cutting through the murmur of someone else. "Somewhere Owen wouldn’t think to look."

"Are you sure about this?" Alex’s tone was cautious, skeptical. "We’re already in deep. If Owen finds out?—"

"I don’t care," Liam snapped, his voice low but filled with resolve. "This is the right thing to do. I’ll take her to my parents’ house. No one’s there, and it’s a state away. She’ll be safe."

I must have drifted again, my surroundings slipping in and out of focus. The next thing I knew, I was being lifted while strong arms supported my limp body. The cool night air hit my skin, making me shiver as I was carried toward something that felt solid, warm—like a car seat.

The door shut with a soft thud, and then we were moving. The vibration of the car beneath me was oddly soothing, and I sank into it, letting the motion lull me. Time became meaningless, my mind retreating into itself as the miles blurred together.

When the car finally stopped, I blinked, the haze lifting just enough to take in my surroundings. Liam’s voice broke through again, steady and coaxing. "We’re here."

I blinked up at the sprawling house in front of us. It looked more like a mansion than a home, all stone and pristine glass, with manicured hedges that lined a driveway big enough to fit an entire fleet of cars. The kind of place you’d see on magazine covers, not in real life. My stomach churned at the sight of it.

“Come on,” Liam urged, opening my door. His hand hovered near mine, but he didn’t touch me. Not yet. “Let’s get you inside.”

I followed him mechanically, my legs weak but moving. The inside was just as grand as the outside—marble floors, sweeping staircases, and an open layout that seemed to stretch endlessly. The house smelled faintly of lavender and something citrusy, the kind of sterile perfection that felt utterly foreign.

“Let’s sit,” Liam said, guiding me toward a plush couch in the living room. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a first-aid kit before kneeling in front of me.

“I need to clean these cuts,” he explained, his voice soft. “It might sting.”

I nodded numbly, staring at the ground. I felt the wet swipe of antiseptic against my skin, the sharp sting of it barely registering. Liam worked methodically, his movements precise and careful, as though touching me too roughly might break me.

“Kira.” His voice pulled my gaze to his. “Do you want anything to eat? I can order whatever you want. Anything.”

I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know what to say. Food felt... irrelevant. Everything did.

Liam sighed, his brows drawing together in concern. “I’ll just order a little of everything,” he said, more to himself than to me. He stood, pulling out his phone and stepping away for a moment.

The low murmur of his voice as he placed the order was oddly soothing, even if I couldn’t focus on the words. When he came back, he sat down on the edge of the couch, his expression still tight with worry.

“Food will be here soon,” he said. “And there’s plenty in the fridge if you get hungry later.”

I nodded faintly, still not speaking.

Liam’s expression softened, but he didn’t press me. Instead, he disappeared again, for what seemed like an hour and when he returned, he set a small bag on the table in front of me.

“I got this for you,” he said, pulling out a sleek, new phone. “I put it on my plan, and I programmed my number into it. You don’t have to call or text me if you don’t want to, but... it’s there.”

He placed a credit card next to the phone, his fingers lingering on the edge of it. “And this is for you. To buy clothes, supplies, anything you need. Or if you want to get out of here. You don’t have to stay, Kira. You’re not a prisoner. I just wanted to give you a place to figure things out.”

His words were tender, thoughtful, and they should’ve brought comfort. But all they did was make me feel heavier, like the weight of my own guilt and confusion might crush me entirely.

“I can’t stay long,” Liam continued, his voice laced with regret. “If I’m gone too long, it’ll look suspicious. Owen’s already going to know you’re gone, but I’ll do everything I can to keep him off your trail.”

I nodded faintly, still unable to meet his eyes.

The doorbell rang, and Liam shot me a quick look before disappearing to answer it. The faint sound of conversation drifted back as he greeted the delivery driver. When he returned, he was balancing a stack of takeout containers, the aroma wafting through the air and making my stomach churn in unexpected hunger.

He set the food down on the coffee table, opening a few containers to reveal a spread that could’ve fed an entire party. Burgers, sushi, salads, pizza, sandwiches, even a few desserts. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I just... got everything.”

I stared at the food, the sight of it overwhelming. I should’ve felt grateful. I should’ve been able to say something, anything. But I couldn’t.

Liam sat down beside me, his hand hovering near mine again. “You don’t have to eat if you’re not ready,” he said gently. “But it’s here when you are.

“Kira,” he said softly, his hand brushing mine for the first time. It was warm, steady, and nothing like Owen’s. “If you need anything, I’m here.”

He stood, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he turned to leave. The sound of the front door clicking shut echoed through the house, leaving me alone once again.

I stared at the phone, the credit card, and the untouched food on the table, their presence a strange reminder that I was free. Or at least, that I could be. But the weight of my own mind, the memories of everything Owen had done—and everything I still felt for him—kept me rooted in place.

I wasn’t free. Not really.

And I didn’t know if I ever would be.