Page 63 of Mile High Daddy

“Leah, wait—” she calls after me, but I don’t stop.

My heart is still pounding, my body still wound so tight I feel like I might snap.

I can’t believe this.

I ran out of my apartment, called Alex for help, felt actual terror—and for what? Because Maggie thought it would be funny?

The cool night air hits me as I storm down the steps, my breath ragged.

Alex is right behind me. “Want me to take you home?”

I nod, my throat too tight to speak.

I feel stupid.

I let myself care.

I thought she needed me.

And I fell for it.

Alex doesn’t say anything as we reach his car. He pulls open the passenger door for me, waiting until I slide inside before shutting it with a little more force than necessary.

I don’t blame him.

I’m still shaking from the adrenaline, my fingers curled tightly around the hem of my sweater as I stare out the window.

Maggiejokedabout needing help. She dragged me out here with a lie. But my gut is still twisted, a lingering unease coiling in the pit of my stomach.

Alex slides into the driver’s seat, the soft click of the door closing punctuating the silence. He exhales through his nose, gripping the steering wheel before finally speaking.

“That was messed up,” he mutters.

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “You think?”

He doesn’t start the car right away. He just sits there, watching me, his brows furrowed slightly. “You okay?” he asks.

I nod, but I don’t feel okay.

“I just want to go home,” I say, my voice tight.

Alex doesn’t push. He just shifts the car into drive, pulling away from the mansion.

The night is quiet outside, the streets empty as we move further from the party, away from the pulsing music and the expensive suits, away from Ryan and whatever the hell that gathering was actually about.

I try to relax, but my nerves are still on edge. I check my phone—no messages from Maggie, but a new one from my mom:

Still safe?

My stomach clenches.

I type back a quickYesbefore locking my screen.

I glance at Alex. He’s focused on the road, but his jaw is taught, like he’s thinking too hard.

“What?” I ask.

He hesitates before answering. “That guy…Ryan. Did he seem off to you?”

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