Free Stolen by Jalena Dunphy Page A

sincere
eyes staring back at me. I want to say something, anything, but my throat feels
like it’s become the size of a straw, just wide enough to inhale small gasps of
air and exhale just as pathetically.
    I can’t do this. I can’t do this!
    I bolt for the front door and leave with the door
still bouncing off the wall from my force. My feet pick up speed and soon I’m
running. My mind doesn’t know where I’m going, but my feet seem to have a plan.
    Soon I’m bent over and panting in front of Rogan’s
door. I bang on it with my fists and, long after an appropriate amount of time,
I keep banging. When the door opens, my fists keep pounding, but now into
flesh. I cry out and collapse into warm arms I know so well, and I cry. I cry
until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. I fall fast asleep in Rogan’s arms, on
the cold entryway tile and in a fetal position, with endless questions rattling
around in my mind.
    Will this be the last time I get to be in his arms?
Will I ever get to see him again? Do I tell him or do I break his heart and let
him live with anger instead of fear? Would that guarantee his safety?
    Soft fingertips are caressing my bare arm, and for a
moment I forget where I am. I know who I’m with, but it isn’t until I try to
move, my entire body protesting from the pain of the position I’ve kept for I
don’t know how long now, that I remember. I groan, pushing up onto the palms of
my hands, and away from Rogan and the floor I’ve made into a bed.
    My eyes are swollen from all the tears I shed, and my
head is throbbing. The pain I felt in my heart when I first arrived is
comparable to the pain I’m in right now.
    I place my hand flat on my forehead, trying to
alleviate the pressure pushing on my brain, but to no avail. I give up and opt
to resume my position back on Rogan’s lap. At least there I feel warm and safe.
Right now, I feel cold and hopeless.
    “Are you going to tell me what happened? You’re
scaring the shit out of me and I hate that you aren’t telling me. Did your mom
and Cass finally fess up on why they were acting so weird?”
    I give a noncommittal shrug, knowing that isn’t going
to keep him from pushing for answers, but I feel too tired and drained to get
into this right now, so I tell him before he continues. “Babe, I’d love to tell
you what’s happening, but right now I feel like I’m dying, my head hurts so
badly. Will you just trust me that I’ll tell you what you need to know soon?
Please?”
    I feel an aggravated breath heave from his chest, but
as he begins stroking my head, he agrees to wait until I’m ready. This is the
only thing right now that I can thank the Cosmos for; everything else is total
shit. I hate the universe right now.
    The house is dark when I open my eyes. I fell asleep
again? Mom must know that I would have come here, but still, she must be
freaking out. I have to go home and face this head-on. Like it or not, my life
has completely changed in the course of minutes, and now I know there’s no
going back.
    I can’t, no, I won’t, let my family or Rogan be hurt
because of me. Whatever I have to do, I will do. What choice do I have now
anyway?
    Before I lift my head, I say goodbye to Rogan from his
lap. I can’t see his face right now or I’ll start crying and maybe never stop.
This might be the last time I see him like this, where he still loves me. “I
have to go now. Thank you for taking care of me and being here for me. I love
you so much. I’m sorry, for everything,” I say, even though he won’t understand
the full extent of my apology.
    I push up and stand on my feet. Feeling lightheaded, I
lean on the wall for a moment until the sensation passes. With my head down, I
turn and grab the door handle, opening it and preparing to step over the
threshold when arms pull me back and around to come face to face with pleading
eyes and a worried expression.
    He keeps his promise, even though I know it’s killing
him, and he doesn’t ask