Page 79 of Love Bleeds Red
“So let’s move,” Damon says.
But where to? The estate ahead, or back toward the treeline?
Damon starts heading toward the trees, so I don’t put up a fight. There’s more coverage in the canopy of oaks… more shadows. We walk with careful but brisk steps, continuously scanning our surroundings.
“There,” Jasper points ahead.
Voices carry through the trees, now. Sharp and commanding mixed with pleading. We move toward the sound, our footsteps muffled by fallen leaves and overgrown grass.
Through the brush, I spot movement. It looks like a small clearing ahead. People… at least four. We get low, stepping closer.
There’s two guards in full tactical gear like they’re in a war zone. They’re standing in front of two figures. Women, by the looks.
“Let’s go!” one of the guards says. “Back to the house!”
They grab hold of their arms, dragging them while they cry and plead. One of them loses their footing, earning another sharp remark from a guard.
A flashlight beam shines directly at her face.
My world stops.
Those eyes, ocean blue and wide with fear. The same nose, the same round chin I’ve memorized from a thousand sketches. The same long brown hair, but tangled with leaves and debris. So much thinner than I remember, and without that sun kissed glow of summer, but unmistakably, impossibly...
“Bailey,” I exhale.
Jasper grips my shoulder, a ragged breath escaping his lips. Damon murmurs a curse, repeating her name. On instinct, I step toward her, but Jasper’s hand anchors me.
It’s been eighteen months of searching, of guilt, of wondering if she was even alive. Eighteen months of rereading her last text message, letting those words sit like a brick on my chest. Eighteen months of replaying every detail of our summer together knowing I’d never feel whole again.
And here she is, not twenty feet in front of me, being dragged through the woods by Alfred’s private army.
Every rational thought ceases to exist. All the careful planning, all the caution, all the strategy—none of it matters anymore.
She’s here. She’s alive.
And we’re getting her out.
BAILEY - SEPTEMBER 21ST
Layne is side-eyeing me from her bed. She thinks I’m going over notes, and hasn’t figured out this is my diary. If she does, I’m so cooked. There's a hundred percent chance she’ll steal it and read every single entry while I’m asleep, and as much as I love her, some thoughts are private.
Like how much I miss Leon. I miss the way he nibbles his lip ring when he’s thinking. I miss his laugh. I miss the way he calls me Firefly. I miss his lips. His body.
We’ve only seen each other once since classes started. It was really sweet… He took me to this cozy Italian restaurant near campus. A “proper date,” as he called it.
We couldn’t do much more than kiss goodbye afterwards. I wasn’t in the mood to introduce him to Layne, plus he had to get back for an early class. Still kinda bummed though.
We decided that next time we hang out, we’re going to go back to their place (the house he and the guys are renting this year) and tell Jasper and Damon everything. We’re both ready… Well, him more than me. Having my brothers know my business in that way is super weird. It’s bad enough that I know what they’re up to with the girls they snuck into the house all summer.
But it’s time… if Leon and I are going to have a future together, our family needs to know.
Oh no… She’s calling Clay. They’re probably going to fight again. I can’t deal.
Yup, she’s already getting loud.
God, this is going to go on for hours. Maybe I should escape to the library or something. I think it’s still open. Though knowing Layne, she’ll rope me into staying to analyze every word he said while barely letting me get a response in.
I just want to text Leon goodnight and pretend it’s still summer. Fantasy world and all that.
