Page 89 of Yours to Keep
Eli has turned my bedroom into a bunker. The blankets are his armor. The drawn curtains his shield. Those four walls are the only place his mind believes Adrian can’t reach him.
And I get it. I understand. Because Adrian didn’t just scare him. He took away the one thing Eli had finally started to believe: that he was safe.
Weeks have passed since Adrian stepped back into his life, but since then, there has been nothing.
No texts. No calls. No sightings. Nothing.
Deck has called in every favor he has: former military contacts, private investigators, people who owe him, and people who owe other people. I’ve done the same, drawing on years of building connections and remembering who could be trusted.
Nothing.
No digital footprint. No bank activity. No CCTV.
Adrian Blackwell is a ghost.
And that scares me, because men like Adrian don’t disappear. I know how they operate. They wait, they watch, and they learn. I know Adrian is waiting, watching, and learning. And when he comes back, I know it will be when it hurts the most.
Right now, he has all the power, and all we can do is wait.
While we wait, the apartment has become a fortress. Finn stays over whenever he isn’t working. He sits with Eli, talks to him, and tries to convince him to eat something, but most days, he just lies beside him and holds him. Even Mack and Silas have shown up with food, trying to help, but nothing works.
The problem isn’t about keeping Eli safe. It’s about convincing him that he already is.
Tonight is the same. I open the bedroom door and see Eli curled on his side, wearing one of my shirts and his forever-present, fluffy duck socks. Finn sits beside him, scrolling through his phone, pretending he isn’t watching every single breath Eli takes.
“Eli.”
Nothing.
“Baby Boy.”
His eyes move slightly, just enough to show me he heard.
“Baby, please eat something.”
The same answer. The same one he has given for four days: “I’m not hungry.”
I grab the plate and set it on the bedside table, then sit against the headboard and pull him into my lap. He doesn’t fight me. I can feel the weight he’s lost, the way his body seems smaller. He just sighs and settles against my chest.
A slow ache spreads through my chest. He looked so alive four nights ago, dancing like the world couldn’t touch him. Now he feels breakable in my arms.
Finn watches silently.
Then the phone rings.
All three of us jump.
I look down at the screen:Deck.
“Hop up, baby. I need to take this.”
Eli moves reluctantly, curling into Finn’s side. I leave the room, step out onto the balcony, and answer.
“Tell me you have something,” I say, my voice already breaking. “I don’t know how much more of this he can take.”
Silence. Too much silence.
“CJ.”
