Page 51 of Runaway Girl
Dad gave a defeated sigh. “Cancel the ambulance, Harriot. Just let me die.”
There was no question about where us siblings inherited our dramatics. But despite the chaotic scene, Alexis still ended up getting what she wanted.
I didn’t message Ethan and chose to reach out in a way that made the most sense tous—the unofficial ritual that had becomeours.Which meant I had to wait until his next game.
It had been a long week, and I was desperate to see him and watch him play. I was so keyed up and bursting with nervous energy that I had to take a breather down a deserted corridor before I fainted from hyperventilating.
That was when I sensed him.
It was as if the forces had worked their magic to intertwine our destinies. Ethan Harris materialised before me, answering the direct call from my seeking heart.
“You came?”
Our passion clashed together as we reconnected after so long.
“I love you,”he repeated, sealing each monumental vow with a kiss.
I was lost for words and had altogether lost my mind as I willinglydrownedin him. My flesh was burning from his touch, scathing with the need for more.
His love was a promise. A reckoning. One beautiful catastrophe. Yet, I’d fight through anything just to remain in that moment.
All too soon, he pulled away, our chests colliding as we caught our breaths.
That’s when I clocked the gleam in his eye. A minute conflict that he tried to push down, but could never hide from me.
I attempted to question him. To have him stay in that little piece of paradise we had stolen for ourselves. Yet, he chose to turn away.
A sinister, knowing took hold as I kept my distance and followed him to the press conference.
Although, the instinctive warning wasn’t for me. It was for him, my love.
Like everyone else, I wanted to know why Ethan had called a press conference before the game.There must be a significant reason.
I slipped through the double doors and pressed my back into a dark corner, the position giving me a clear view of the entire room.
The atmosphere was abuzz, media outlets swarming closer to the stage in an attempt to siphon some of Ethan’s fame and energy. He was trending online again.Everyonewanted a piece of him.
Not anymore.He belonged to me—every strength, each flaw, they wereall mine.
A static hush fell over the crowd as the man in question swaggered up on stage to stand behind the podium.
Ethan looked strong and intimidating, but I could sense a hesitance in him. I traced the lining of his shoulders and the way they tensed. As if his mind and body were in opposition.
Then, for a brief moment, his eyes zeroed in on someone near the exit, and his spine snapped ramrod straight.
No one else caught the hint. No one else knew him well enough to notice the tell.
My gaze locked on the culprit at the same exact moment Ethan said the earth-shattering statement that had the crowd in uproar.
“I’m resigning from the East Coast Cyclones and NFL altogether. Tonight will be my last game.”
Anarchy ensued.
And as I fought to get to his mother, I made a call, my ear pressed firmly against the phone to drown out the noise.
She answered on the first ring.
“I need your help.”
