Yours Completely (Reign 2)

“Yeah, I mean, he didn’t do anything.”

“That’s not what I mean. This is a big blow, you’re worried about your advisor, but how do you feel?”

I looked at the ground and a cold chill pricked over my skin as I remembered his eyes on me. How he winked. How he looked so evil. How terror engulfed me. It was paralyzing. And I hated that he still had that power over me, even in the smallest way. Even for one moment.

Did Brock pick Erica because she was my advisor? Did he do this on purpose? It was too coincidental to think this was purely random. Brock always had a plan. He also had a hobby of evoking fear. But I didn’t know for certain what his end game was, or what Erica had to do with it.

“Things are falling apart,” I whispered. School was my one sanctuary. My domain. My place of acceptance and success. And now Brock was, once again, there with all the baggage and drama and pain that came with him. There was nowhere left to hide.

Cal had warned me from the beginning about hiding, but I wasn’t ready to be a part of the world right now. I wasn’t ready to face the mess that was raining down. I’d been fighting a losing battle for a long time. Right when I thought I’d finally gained ground, I was pushed back. My body couldn’t take anymore. Couldn’t handle the weight of all the stress. I couldn’t bear to lose one more thing.

I said the same thing I’d said to Cal the night I met him. “I need a win.”

His face was like stone. Did he remember that first night? When we’d won a silly fireman’s race, but it made my night, my week, seem better. It was a brief moment of easy happiness.

“I can’t hide,” I admitted, and he nodded in agreement. “But I don’t want to be like this. I feel trapped in a bad situation and just want to…”

“Run?” he asked.

“Right off the edge of the world.”

A devilish grin came over his face. “I can help with that.”

“What?” I asked with curious shock.

“You want off the world?” He grabbed my hand and whistled loudly, calling out the other firefighters on duty, while walking me toward the garage where they kept the trucks. “I can get you off the world, Kitten.”

Chapter 6

“So, you ready for this, Lana?” Dave asked, as he put big block things on each side of the wheels, “stabilizing the truck.” I had met Cal’s crew briefly before, but standing in the dark, with the big fire truck pulled out into the back lot while four men went to work on pulling out beams from secret compartments on the rig and securing it, I was getting to know both the crew and the details of how this massive machine worked better.

“Yeah, I am,” I answered, crossing my arms, warding off the cool night air. Thank goodness it had only sprinkled for a moment earlier. The sky was now clear and black with the stars like diamonds shining down.

“You know, Cal’s been gabbing like a tween about you ever since you were here last.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dave,” Cal said, walking from the garage toward the truck, holding a fire jacket in his hand. Another thing I was learning quickly was that the guys seemed to enjoy giving each other a hard time. But they had a dynamic like a family. Cal had merely asked for some help, and they came running. Help for what, I wasn’t clear on yet. But it had something to do with this massive fire truck that was both turned on and had a few guys standing by.

“You ready?” Cal asked and held up the heavy yellow jacket. I eyed it with question.

“Ready for what? You leading me into a fire?”

“No, way better. Put this on, it’s cold.”

I slipped into his coat. It smelled fresh, as if it’d just been cleaned. And, like Cal, it was warm and instantly comforting. Sure, it dwarfed me, but I wasn’t cold anymore.

“Now, smile!” Dave said, and snapped a photo on his camera phone.

“Oh!” I said, when the flash took me by surprise.

“Cal’s throwing up the stick and taking a lady, gotta document this stuff for the scrapbook.”

“I’m sorry, I only understood half of that,” I said.

“We make scrapbooks,” Cal said in my ear. “Well, Dave mostly does. He’s our arts and crafts coordinator, aren’t you, Davy?”

“No, I’m the Tickle Tuesday Ambassador. Rhett is in charge of the arts and crafts. He has those delicate hands and all.”

“I heard that!” Rhett called out from the other side of the truck.