Page 36 of Runaway Girl
The win was monumental, and I was so proud of my girl. She was beautiful, positively gleaming, and I was giddy from the second-hand payoff.
The Thorne family cheered in the crowd, clapping with overzealous admiration, not giving a damn that they were surrounded by some of the richest and most famous athletes on earth. All their attention was reserved for Alicia, their daughter and sister.
Their reactions were bittersweet, and a certain ache registered in my chest at what I had always wished and hoped for myself. But something deeper lingered—more potent and desperate. I should’ve been there, celebrating next to them.
I wanted to give Alicia a hug, wrap her up tight and kiss her in front of everyone, but I doubt she would want that heat in front of a room full of colleagues and clients.
And that’s all my presence would bring.
The day before, the trial against my mother was tied off with one gigantic, showy bow. The public unravelled that shit with speed and finesse—as if my past trauma was curated and made purely for their gluttonous consumption.
Audrey Collins was hit with defamation, emotional distress and harassment. In the end, I was given a restraining order and two million in combined damages.
Let’s just say she lost her ever-loving shit. When the verdict was called, Audrey’s mask shattered, and therealher couldn’t be held back any longer—the courtroom was filled with screaming profanities and blatant threats. She even made a beeline for Dad, attempting to throw hands at his “smug face”.
To my delight, she was escorted out in handcuffs, the crowd watching on in disbelief. That was the first time in months I had genuinely smiled.
Until now.
I caught my lips stretching wide as my gaze remained caught on Alicia. Unmarked, untainted andglowingwithout my polluted influence.
When I hit her head with that football, I knew I couldn’t be selfish and keep her in danger anymore.
Since then, she had tried messaging and calling, but I didn’t relent. Then, my dad gave in to my incessant moping, admitting he gave her my number and relaying their short conversation.
I sent one text—the only thing I could at that time.“Wait for me…”
I didn’t deserve as much, and I had no right. But I asked anyway. My last remaining hope, typed in three selfish words.
I pushed on with my issues and ongoing battles and stayed away. Alicia deserved someone whole. Someone who didn’t hurt her, even if it was unintentional.
But this night was one instance where I couldn’t resist.
And seeing her face light up as her boss, Felix, and his wife, Stella, shook her hand made the daunting venture entirely worth it.
Alicia wasn’t aware I was there, but that didn’t matter. I was more than happy to steal a moment for myself.
In a couple of days, she would come to realise the truth of my heart.Everything there ever was to know about me, she will have access to—the thought simultaneously daunting and freeing.
I spared one last longing glance and slipped out the door, leaving the celebrations to her.
With my hood pulled low over my head, I entered the café across the road and sat at the lone window seat.
It had become my new spot and hangout, the café staff friendly and discreet. I settled back in the comfortable lounge, prepared to wait hours for Alicia to leave.
I had become her hidden guard and devoted follower. After everything I had been through, I just wanted—needed—her to be safe.
Before I could go through the familiar cycle of regret, shame and self-loathing, my senses perked when I watched Alicia sprint from her work building, panicked tears running down her face.
I was on my feet and in front of her within seconds. Then she saw me, my worried expression, and she ran…for me.
I caught her and pivoted for my car as she wrapped herself around my frame. She cried into the base of my neck as my hand ran down her hair.
“Shh, Ali, love. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” I whispered. “Whatever it is, we will figure it out.”
“We?”she asked, all hopeful, which was quickly followed by a loud hiccup.
That’s when Alicia leaned back and gave me her devastating face. She was so breathtakingly stunning, even when marked with sadness.
