Page 77 of Freestyle
Now?
It feels like armor.
“We’re not letting you disappear behind some locked door while pretending you’re not unraveling.”
I press my lips together, then nod once.
It’s not surrender.
Not exactly.
It’s survival.
My mouth opens. Closes. “I didn’t bring anything.”
“We’ll get it,” Phoenix says, already pulling out his phone like he’s got a list forming in his head. “Bag, toothbrush, charger, whatever. Just tell us where.”
I blink. “You don’t haveto—”
“We do,” Gray cuts in, sharper this time. “You don’t have to tell us what’s going on, but we’re not giving whoever’s putting that fear in your eyes another inch.”
Phoenix grabs a hoodie off the chair and tosses it to me—his. Worn and soft. “Put that on. You’re freezing.”
“What am I really doing here?” I ask, though my voice barely carries past the lump rising in my throat.
Gray stiffens beside me. “What do you mean?”
I look at them, both of them. Gray’s hand brushing against mine, Nix leaning against the wall with that unreadable expression he gets when he’s feeling too much and doesn’t want to show any of it.
My pulse is loud in my ears. My chest is a war zone.
“I can’t do this,” I breathe. “I can’t be with you guys like this.”
Nix stands straighter. Gray stiffens. The air shifts like thunder is waiting to drop.
“You can’t leave,” Gray says gently, but there’s something fierce and aching under the words. “We won’t let you. Weneedyou.”
Needme.
God.
If they only knew how that word cuts.
“You don’t understand,” I whisper,curling in tighter, trying to hold myself together. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m... I’m not strong. I’m damaged. Beyond repair.”
My throat constricts, and before I can stop it, the tears rise, hot and blinding.
Gray’s hand finds mine, warm and solid. “Row, we’re not asking you to be perfect.”
Nix’s voice is barely above a breath. “We’re asking you to let us be here.”
I try to speak, but the words crumple in my mouth.
“I’m scared,” I manage. “Of falling, of needing you, of you seeing the worst of me and running.”
Gray leans closer, close enough for his breath to coat my skin. “Then we won’t run.”
“I—” I start, but Nix cuts in gently.
