Page 4 of Yours

“Kiera,” she interrupted, her voice firm again. “Stop. You know this isn’t something you can handle on your own. Not when it involves someone like Benedetti. You think he’s going to play fair? You think this is just about your scholarship?” She leaned in slightly, her tone dropping. “Guys like him don’t stop at making your life inconvenient. He’s going to keep pushing until you break—or until someone makes him back off.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine. I knew she was right, but admitting it felt like surrendering to something much bigger than me. Calling Ronan was like opening Pandora’s Box. Once he knew about this, there would be no going back. He’d handle it, sure—but who knows what he would demand of me in return.

“He’s not going to help me out of the kindness of his heart, Leena,” I said quietly, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. “You know that. If I ask him for help, it’s going to come with strings. A whole lot of strings…”

Leena didn’t deny it. She just studied me for a moment, her expression unreadable.

“He does care about you, you know,” she said finally, her tone softer.

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re more optimistic about your brother than I am,” I muttered. “He’s different now, Leena. And not in a good way.”

“I know he’s different,” she said quietly. “He had to be. After Dad died, he didn’t have a choice. But that doesn’t mean he’s lost every piece of himself.” She paused, then sighed, running a handthrough her hair. “Look, I’m not saying this is going to be easy. Or fun. But you don’t have any better options, Kiera.”

I swallowed hard, glancing down at the scuffed wood floor of our apartment. Leena’s words echoed in my head, a challenge and a threat wrapped up in one simple sentence.

“I’ll call him,” I mumbled finally, shoving my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. “Later.”

Leena’s sharp intake of breath was all the warning I got before she pushed off the counter and stepped into my space.

“No. Not later, Kiera. Now.” She crossed her arms, her green eyes narrowing as she pinned me with a look that was both annoyed and deeply worried. “You’re not stalling your way out of this.”

“I’m not stalling,” I shot back defensively. “I just need time to… think about how to say it, that’s all.”

“You’ve had time to think,” she said, her voice softening only slightly. “You’ve been sitting on this for days, and now Benedetti’s made it clear he’s not messing around. Do you really think this guy is going to stop with a couple of calls to the administration?”

I winced, her words hitting too close to the truth. She wasn’t wrong, and we both knew it.

“I don’t want to call Ronan. I’d rather call pretty much anyone else,” I hedged, though my stomach twisted even as I said it.

Leena’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she might let it go. But then she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to firm whisper. “If you don’t call him by the end of theday,” she said, her words slow and deliberate, “I swear to God, Kiera, I’ll call him myself.”

I froze, my chest tightening as I met her gaze. There was no hesitation in her eyes, no trace of a bluff. Leena had known me since freshman year—long enough to know when I was digging my heels in out of sheer stubbornness. And I’d known her long enough to know when she wasn’t kidding around.

“You wouldn’t,” I said, my voice shaking just slightly.

She arched a brow. “Try me.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to come up with some excuse, but nothing came out. Instead, I sank down onto the edge of the couch and pressed my hands to my temples.

“Jesus, Leena,” I mumbled. “If I call him, it’s going to make everything worse.”

Leena softened slightly, perching on the arm of the couch next to me. “Different doesn’t mean bad, Kiera,” she said gently. “I know he’s… intense. But he’s good at handling people like Benedetti. Scarily good.”

“Exactly,” I said, lifting my head to look at her. “Scary. Do you hear yourself? You’re asking me to call someone who might bulldoze his way through the situation just because it’s convenient. And you know it’s not just that. You know how he feels about me, Leena.”

Leena sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “I know. And I know you’re scared it’s going to get complicated. But he’s not going to use this as an excuse to…” She trailed off, waving her hand vaguely. “I don’t know. Trap you, or whatever you’re thinking. He’s not like that. Not with you.”

I shook my head. “You can’t know that for sure.”

Her lips pressed together, and for a moment, she looked as conflicted as I felt.

“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But I do know that if you don’t ask him for help, you’re going to regret it. You can’t take on Benedetti alone, Kiera.”

I hated that she was right. I hated that she was forcing me to admit it. And most of all, I hated the sinking feeling in my chest that told me this was a battle I couldn’t win on my own.

“Fine,” I said at last, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll call him.”

Leena’s shoulders relaxed just slightly, but she didn’t smile. She wasn’t gloating; this wasn’t a victory for her.

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