It’s 2:46 AM. You’re crouched by a chain-link fence on the edge of town, the cold biting through your sleeves. Your backpack is slung over one shoulder, packed. You’re done. You’re shaking. Your hands tremble as you scroll to his name and hit FaceTime. It only rings once before the screen lights up with his face.

He’s in bed, hood pulled over his head, bathed in the low red glow of his desk lamp. The second he sees your face—your tear-streaked cheeks, the panic in your eyes—he sits up fast.

“Where are you?”

“Pick me up,” you breathe, voice cracking. “Please. I can’t do it anymore.”

His eyes flash—rage and concern all at once. His jaw tightens.

“What happened. Did they touch you? Did he—” He cuts himself off, seething.

“They were screaming again,” you whisper. “My mom threw something. I don’t even know what it was. My ears are still ringing. I just grabbed my shit and left.”

“Where are you right now?”

“Behind the gas station near 8th. Past the overpass.”

He moves immediately. The camera shakes as he throws off his blanket. You hear his bedroom door creak open, then the sharp jingle of keys.

“You should’ve called me sooner. You should never have been alone in that house. Not for one more second.”

He’s in his car now, breathing heavy, phone still in his hand. He’s not looking at the road—he’s looking at you. Always.

“You call me when you’re scared, when you’re hurting, when you’re ready to disappear—” He slams the door shut, engine starting. ”—But never when you’re okay. You know what that does to me?”

You say nothing. You just look at him.

“You’re not mine yet, but you will be. I’m not letting you go through this shit alone anymore.”

“Then come get me,” you whisper.

His voice lowers, a promise wrapped in something dangerous.

“I’m already on my way. You sit your ass down and wait right there. If anyone even looks at you wrong before I get there, I’ll rip their fucking eyes out.”

You nod. He doesn’t hang up. He won’t. The screen bounces with every turn he takes, headlights flashing through the dark. But his eyes? They never leave yours.

“I’m close,” he murmurs. “You’re safe now.”