Page 82 of The Loathing

It’s just the way life is.

I ignore the sting in my eyes and follow him up the dark path, his fingers linked through mine so even if I wanted to, I couldn’t let go.

He crouches down, lifting a small flowerpot and pulling out a key.

“Is this your place?” I ask a little confused.

“No, Nate sorted it…” he looks up over his shoulder at me and winks, “you’ll be safe here.”

“You hope.”

Titus shakes his head from side to side, “I promised.”

I keep quiet as he slips the key into the lock and pushes the door wide. Stepping in he turns the light on, and I am surprised how beautiful it is inside.

“Well, this is nice,” he chimes, walking through the cottage and switching the lights on.

“It is,” my voice is small, I feel such mixed emotions. I would have never run before Titus. I would have never turned my back and betray my father the way I have done… but what other option did I have?

I stop in my tracks and scan the quaint room. I am standing in the lounge which leads straight from the front door. To the left is a small kitchen that is separated from the lounge with just a single archway giving it an open plan feel. The lounge is painted cream, the furnishings a natural tweed with a matching bat winged reading chair. It has nothing on my little library at home, my perfect little nook and suddenly I feel homesick. Resting my hand on my stomach, I close my eyes for just a moment and remember why I have done this.

“Are you okay?” Titus’ voice sweeps through the downstairs, and I nod. “There is a guestroom down here, the main bedroom is upstairs… I would rather you sleep upstairs.”

“Okay,” I sigh softly, giving the room one last look before I move forward down a narrow hallway where the stairs curl round and up to the first floor. I hear Titus’ footsteps behind me reminding me that he will never be far away from me, like he is always five steps behind.

Pushing the door to my right, it opens onto a lilac and white bedroom. The bed quilt seersucker with huge, white, fluffy show pillows.

Stepping into the room, my feet sink into the thick, luxurious white carpet and I feel like I am walking on clouds.

“I know it’s not home…” Titus’ deep voice vibrates through me, “but I hope it’s okay,” and my heart lurches from its chest.

“King…” I pause and turn to look at him, “Titus,” I clear my throat.

“You can call me that, it is my surname after all,” he smirks at me, wrapping his arm round me and pulling me into him and holding me close.

“This is perfect, I am so grateful,” I swallow down the lump that is forming in my throat.

“Anything to ensure your safety.” The low growl in his voice makes my heart race and suddenly, this is too intimate.

Placing my hands on his chest, I gently push back and pin my eyes to his. “I’m tired,” I whisper.

“Okay,” he dips his head, letting me go and stepping back, “I’ll go and get your things from the car, I won’t be long.”

“I can do it…” I rush towards the door but he places his hands either side of the doorframe and shakes his head.

“I will go, you get into bed.”

I give a weak smile and head towards the bed, tossing the pillows off and sitting against the headboard. I am glad I wore my pyjamas, so I don’t have to worry about getting changed. As soon as Titus has gone, I feel as if I can’t breathe. But not in a way that feels like he is suffocating me, but in a way that when he is not close, I can’t physically breathe without him being near to me. I need him like the air I breathe.

Fiddling with my fingers, I glance at the small digital clock that sits on the bedside unit, it’s nearly four a.m. and I wonder how long until they realise that I am gone.

Nerves ripple through me at the thought of how panicked they would be. I thought about writing my mother a letter, just to let her know that I was okay, but I didn’t want to have to put her in a position where she has to lie to my father. I know she is angry with him, but she doesn’t lie, especially not to my father. Not that he is controlling in any way; they’re best friends and tell each other everything but it seems my mother is a little more sharing than my father has been.

How the fuck did my life become this complicated?

A little over a month ago I was living my best life, working in a job I loved, with friends I loved and in a home that I was safe in and with a family that would do anything for me.

And now I am in hiding with my bodyguard because my father has promised me to an enemy for spilt blood.

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