Page 106 of Before Now

“What do you mean?”

I almost have more trouble with these words than the others. This memory of why I almost didn’t go to NYU. Why I barely left my dorm room until I became Heath’s TA. Why I still panic anytime I see my name in credits or anywhere for that matter.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I meant what I said, you owe me nothing. We can stop talking about it if you want.”

“I know,” I say, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

It’s why I want to try.

“Roman’s friend had a house outside of Columbus where he got sober way back when. Bea still let Roman use it whenever. We figured Daniel would be looking, so he took out cash on our way, then he avoided credit cards and drove hours to different ATMs anytime he needed more. He even sold his car and paid cash for one in Bea’s name. All these precautions to protect me.”

Shockingly, I have more tears left, but I blink them away. What happened was my fault. My guilt to carry.

“The first week, I cried and slept. But by the second, I was so fucking angry, Foster. He stole everything from me without consequence. My mom was dead, and I’d never see my dad’s SD card. I missed Sage and you. God, I missed you.”

He moves, the angle lowering as he sits down, but I still see the fountain.

“I was too scared to even log in to anything since he had my phone. Then one day I broke. Roman mostly only left for groceries or cash—even then I’d freak out until he came back. But he went to lunch with Bea, and I took the car, going back to Ashfield.”

“I was there twelve days after I last heard from you,” Foster says.

My heart aches when I tell him, “I was there thirteen after.”

“Fuck. If I’d have known—” He sighs, not finishing the thought. But I’m betting he would have been there a day later because I would have gone a day earlier if it meant seeing him.

“I made sure Daniel wasn’t there. His car was at an officer’s house who helped him. So, I parked several blocks away and climbed up the trellis. The window was still unlocked, my room untouched. I only wanted the SD card and to find my phone. I could delete the app or at least get your and Sage’s numbers, but it wasn’t there.” I shake my head. “I couldn’t bring myself to leave my room to look anywhere else. The only thing keeping me from talking to you again, and I couldn’t fucking open the door. Knowing I’d walk into the hall and see where…”

I said the words once, but I avoid them.

Foster shifts. “There’s no shame in that, Remi. I can’t imagine what it must have been like. You’d already been through so much. It was brave to even go back inside that house.”

“Yeah, and it ruined everything.” I pause, enduring the guilt. “I thought I was careful, but Daniel must have followed me because three days later, two of his guys showed up.”

The favorites. Elvin and Marlo. He let them off their leashes, both more terrifying than I gave credit for.

“What happened?” He strives for calm, but concern seeps in, something else too. “Did they hurt you?”

“No.” I find the tag again, ready to rip it to shreds. “I was in my bedroom when they broke through the window. There was a covered access panel in my closet. Bea said it was for utilities, and I crawled inside to hide—essentially between the closet wall and the living room’s. They searched the house, but it sat off the floor, and with the random clothes hanging, they must have missed the cover.”

“Fuck.”

“They hurt Roman, though,” I admit. “They beat him, calling him the most heinous shit, telling him what they’d do when they found me. I was literally on the other side of the drywall. I heard them and Roman and when they cocked the gun.” I stop, needing a second, and Foster stays quiet.

The memories don’t even feel like mine. I’m watching the terrified girl, hand covering her mouth to keep from making noise, tears rolling over the back of her hand.

“One of them tore through the house again. They kept trying to force Roman to tell them where I was, but eventually, they called Daniel. I guess killing only one of us would make it harder to cover their tracks. They put him on speaker and let him personally threaten Roman. Warned if he so much as heard whispers of either of our names again, he’d go after Sage and Roman’s parents. He also swore to make it worse for me and make Roman watch before he killed us.”

“Remi.” It’s all he says, silence floating between us for a second.

“I was so stupid, Foster. I avoided him tracking my phone, I never accessed accounts, Roman went through so much to steer clear of a paper trail. And then I led them straight there to nearly kill him. I don’t know how. I was so paranoid driving back and constantly checking behind me.”

“It’s not your fault,” he rasps, and the sadness in his voice hurts me too.

Roman said the same thing, and I didn’t believe him either.

“Either way, I couldn’t put his life at risk like that again. The chance of them going after anyone because of me terrified me. I barely existed for a long time, having panic attacks all the time. Even after Roman moved us to New York, registered me for classes at NYU, and forced me to attend. Then I took Heath’s class, and he gave me no choice but to be out in the world.” I half-smile, remembering the hell he put me through, but I’m so grateful for the man. “I still had panic attacks when he first booked a flight with my name or when he credited me in a video. Eventually they stopped. And I let myself look for the beautiful things again.”

He stays quiet long enough I wonder if I dumped too much. I don’t think I would have if it were anyone else. I don’t think I could have, but with Foster … he’s him.

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