Lucas's Pov
Kayla's front porch light was on, but Ivey wasn't there.
She was supposed to be here.
I jogged up the steps and rang the bell three times, too fast, my pulse already hammering. Kayla opened the door, confused, phone in hand.
"She's not here?" I asked, stepping past her without waiting.
"No, she went out to grab snacks like one hour ago—" She stopped, watching my face. "Wait. What's going on?"
I turned to her slowly, then pulled out my phone and hit speaker. "He called me."
"Who?"
"Josh." My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else — too calm, too low. "He said if I wanted Ivey back, I had to fight for her."
Kayla's face went white. "Lucas—please tell me you're joking."
"I'm not. And she hasn't texted me back since she left the store."
Kayla stared at me for one long second, then backed into the house.
I followed her into the living room, heart pounding as she opened her laptop.
"What's her number again? I might be able to trace it. I've done it before when she lost her phone."
While she worked, I paced the carpet, hands clenched. Everything in me buzzed — not just fear, but fury. Because I knew Josh. I knew what obsession looked like. I'd seen guys like him back at my old school — guys who didn't know how to let go, who thought pain was love, who thought girls owed them forever.
And I knew how to deal with them, too.
I pulled out my phone again and opened the old group chat I hadn't touched in over a year. Four names blinked at me. One of them, Mason, responded instantly.
Me: You still around?
Mason: Always. What's up?
Me: I need help. A friend of mine is in trouble. I think she's been taken.
Mason: You serious?
Me: Dead serious. Can you get the guys?
Mason: You got it. Drop the location.
"I've got something," Kayla said, spinning her laptop toward me. "Her phone is still on. Look."
The map showed a blinking blue dot — outside town. Off the main roads. Near an old warehouse by the river. My chest tightened.
"She's there?"
Kayla nodded. "It's not exact, but close enough. Lucas—be careful."
But I was already texting Mason the location.
Me: Meet me there. We move in together.
Mason: Let's remind this psycho who he's dealing with.
I looked back at Kayla.
"I'm going to get her back."
She reached for my arm. "Wait. You're not calling the cops?"
I hesitated. "I don't trust they'll get there in time. And if they show up and he panics—he could hurt her."
Kayla bit her lip, nodded once. "Then go. And get her out."
I ran out.
Ivey's Pov
The ropes around my wrists were too tight.
They'd started to burn — skin rubbed raw from struggling earlier — but it didn't matter. I couldn't stop trying. I couldn't sit still, even though I was too weak, even though every movement made my shoulders scream. I kept twisting, pulling, praying something would give.
But nothing did.
The room was quiet again. Just the low hum of an old bulb flickering above me and the sound of my breathing — sharp, uneven, angry. I didn't even know where I was. Some kind of empty storage space? Cement floor, exposed beams. Dust clung to the air like fog. It smelled like rust and mildew.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.
I didn't need to guess.
Josh stepped back into the room, and the second I saw his face, I knew. The calm was gone. Replaced by something sharper. Edged with heat. A twisted sort of happiness.
He smiled like this was normal.
Like this — me tied to a chair in some freezing, filthy room — was romantic.
"Ivey," he said softly, crouching down beside me. "You've been so quiet."
I didn't answer. I couldn't give him what he wanted — whatever that was. Apology? Gratitude? Fear?
He reached out and brushed the hair from my face, his fingers trailing down my cheek far too slowly. I flinched away, but I couldn't move far. The ropes dug into my arms, making me wince.
"Don't be like that," he whispered, voice sugar-coated. "You always looked so pretty when you let me take care of you."
His hand dropped to my shoulder. I tried to jerk away again, but I barely moved an inch, he leaned down. I could feel his breath on the side of my neck. It was warm, too close, too familiar.
And then he pressed his lips to my skin.
A slow, lingering kiss just below my ear.
I flinched — hard. The ropes bit into my arms as I jerked away instinctively, panic rushing through me like fire. I couldn't move far, but the disgust, the rage, the helplessness… it hit me all at once.
He thought this was love. He thought he was allowed to touch me like that.
"You're just confused right now," he murmured. "You'll see. Once all this noise between us goes quiet… once it's just you and me again… you'll remember how good it was."
"I remember everything," I said, voice hoarse. "And none of it was good."
He paused behind me. I heard his breath shift.
"That's just the part of you he's poisoned."
"Lucas didn't do this to me," I spat. "You did."
He stepped in front of me again, kneeling, resting both hands on my thighs. I turned my face away.
"I'm not giving up on us," he said, and then, before I could move, he leaned forward and kissed me.
Hard. Possessive. Like claiming something.
I tried to twist away, but the restraints kept me locked in place. When he finally pulled back, I was shaking with rage — eyes burning, throat aching.
"You're sick," I whispered.
Josh's face didn't change.
"I'm in love."
He walked away like that meant something beautiful.
And the door slammed shut behind him.
I sagged against the chair, finally letting my head fall forward.
Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. I couldn't. Not now. Not when I didn't know how much longer I'd be here.
Please, I thought. Please someone find me.
I don't know how long I sat there, straining to hear anything beyond the silence — a voice, a car, a creak of a door.
Please, Lucas.
Come soon.
Lucas's Pov
The warehouse loomed ahead, dark and half-rotted at the edges. I pulled up fast, the tires screeching slightly as I parked. My heart was already in my throat.
Three of my old friends were already there — Jax, Remy, and Tyler — leaning against the side wall, their faces tense and unreadable under the flickering streetlight.
"Damn, man," Jax muttered as I jogged up. "You sure this is the place?"
I nodded, barely able to get the words out. "He called. Said if I wanted her back, I had to come here." I swallowed. "He's sick. He's lost it."
Tyler cracked his knuckles. "Then let's go get her."
The warehouse door was half-hinged and rusted, but it groaned open under our weight. Inside, everything smelled like oil and dust. The place looked abandoned — until the footsteps came.
Six guys stepped out of the shadows, blocking our path. Every one of them wore the same smirk — like they knew something we didn't. Like they were expecting us.
Josh's crew.
"You sure you want to do this, Lucas?" one of them asked. "She left you once, didn't she?"
I didn't answer.
I just moved.
The first punch landed hard, and chaos exploded around me. My guys dove in, fists flying. We fought like we used to — sharp, brutal, desperate. My knuckles hurt, but I didn't care. I ducked a blow, shoved someone into the wall, slammed my shoulder into another's chest.
All I could think about was Ivey.
Where she was. If she was okay. If she was scared.
One of the guys tried to block the hallway behind them.
I slammed him against the door and shoved it open.
And then I saw her.
Bound to a chair in the dim light of the warehouse. Her body slumped forward, exhausted and broken. Her arms were marked with dark bruises, a sickening reminder of the torment she had endured. She barely lifted her head as she heard me, her eyes blurry with tears.
"Ivey!" I shouted, rushing to her.
Her head snapped up, eyes wide. "Lucas?"
I dropped to my knees, my hands shaking as I untied the knots. "I'm here. I've got you. I've got you."
Her arms collapsed into my chest the moment they were free. She buried her face in my chest, her breath hitching.
"He—he kissed me. He said I belonged to him," she whispered. "He kept saying I'd come back eventually. He said I didn't need anyone else…"
I held her tighter. "I'm gonna kill him," I muttered.
But first — I had to get her out.
I lifted her into my arms and carried her out through the same busted door we came in. The fight behind us was still raging, but Jax and the others were holding their own.
"I am going to take you to Kayla's House" I said, even as she shivered against me. "It's over now. I promise."
At Kayla's House
Lucas's Pov
Kayla had already thrown open the door by the time I pulled into the driveway, headlights washing over her front steps. She was barefoot, in pajamas, phone clutched in her hand.
"Oh my god," she gasped as I stepped out with Ivey in my arms. "Is she—?"
"She's okay. She needs rest. Help me get her inside."
Kayla backed up, holding the door, her eyes wide with worry as I carried Ivey into the living room and gently laid her down on the couch. Kayla brought over a blanket, her voice soft and tight.
"I'll grab the first-aid kit," she whispered, disappearing down the hall.
Ivey hadn't said much on the drive. Her body trembled in my arms, but she hadn't let go of my jacket once. Now, she looked so small, wrapped up and half-conscious, her eyes fluttering open just enough to find mine.
"You're safe," I said, brushing hair from her forehead. "He's not coming back. I promise."
She blinked slowly, then reached out with trembling fingers and gripped my hand.
Kayla returned with a kit, kneeling beside her. "Let's clean those wrists, okay? It might sting, but we've got to take care of them."
Ivey didn't flinch. She just watched me while Kayla worked.
When it was done, and Kayla quietly disappeared to give us space, I sat beside the couch, our hands still joined. The dim lamp cast golden light over her pale skin, and her eyes finally focused again, the haze beginning to lift.
"Ivey," I said, my voice low. "You don't have to talk about it right now. Just let yourself breathe."
But she shook her head. "I need to. If I don't say it now, I'll never say it."
She swallowed, and her voice cracked when she spoke. "He said I was his. That I'd always come back. That you were just noise."
I felt rage coil low in my gut again, but I didn't let it surface. Not right now.
"I'm not noise," I said, meeting her eyes. "And you're not his. You've never been his."
She nodded, slowly, eyes glistening. "When I heard your voice—when I realized it was really you—I thought I was dreaming."
"I'd tear through hell to get to you," I said simply. "And I did."
That made her lips twitch, just slightly. A ghost of a smile.
"You can always trust me."
She shifted slightly, just enough for me to lean closer, enough that her hand reached up and gently touched my face.
"I'm still scared, Lucas," she said. "But not of you. Of how much I feel when I look at you."
"Ivey…" I whispered, heart stuttering.
"I don't know what this is. But I know that I feel safer with you than I've ever felt with anyone."
The silence between us was filled with warmth, tension, relief. I didn't rush the moment. I just reached for her hand again, cradling it between mine.
"Then that's enough," I said. "We don't have to define it tonight. We don't have to fix everything all at once. But you're not alone anymore."
She looked like she wanted to cry again — but this time, maybe out of relief.
"Stay?" she asked.
I shifted onto the couch beside her, pulling her carefully into my arms.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "Not tonight. Not ever."
And we sat like that, tangled in quiet comfort, as the first hints of sunrise touched the sky.
Next day
Ivey's Pov
The morning light filtered in through Kayla's guest room curtains, casting soft gold stripes across the blanket Lucas and I had fallen asleep under. I blinked against the brightness, at first — until everything came rushing back.
The warehouse. The ropes. Josh.
And Lucas.
He was still beside me, one arm around my waist, holding me like I might disappear if he let go. His breathing was steady and calm.
A knock on the door made me stir.
"Hey," Kayla's voice called softly. "You guys awake? I made breakfast. Also... school's still a thing. Just letting you know."
I let out a slow breath. School.
The word felt foreign now. Like something that belonged to another version of me — one who hadn't been tied to a chair in a dark warehouse, one who didn't carry bruises on her wrists or shadows in her chest.
Lucas stirred behind me. "You okay?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
I turned to face him, nodding. "Yeah. I think… I want to go. To school, I mean."
He blinked, eyes sharpening. "Are you sure? You don't have to rush anything."
"I know," I said. "But I think I need to be normal again. I need to move on from what happened"
He sat up slowly, brushing the sleep from his face. "Then I'm with you. Every step."
By the time we got downstairs, Kayla had set out toast, eggs, and orange juice. She didn't ask questions. She just handed me a plate, gave me a half-smile, and let me eat in silence.
After breakfast, I pulled on the clean clothes Kayla had left on the edge of the bed. My hoodie sleeves covered most of the bruises. The ones that didn't — I ignored. I could feel Lucas's eyes on me as I tied my shoes, his silence louder than anything.
"You really want to do this?" he asked again when we reached the car.
I nodded. "I need to show up for myself today. Even if I'm not at a hundred percent."
The ride to school was quiet. Lucas kept the music low, his hand brushing mine on the center console now and then. And when we pulled into the parking lot, I froze just for a second.
People were walking by. Laughing. Talking about homework or soccer or some party next weekend.
They had no idea what had happened to me.
But maybe they didn't need to.
Lucas came around and opened my door like he always did — not because he thought I couldn't, but because he knew I appreciated the gesture. I stepped out slowly. The air smelled like morning dew and asphalt.
I adjusted my backpack.
"Let's go," I said quietly.
He fell into step beside me.
And every step I took closer to the school felt heavier.