The Price of Freedom

Chapter Five

The cabin is too small. Too small to hold the weight of what just happened, too small to keep out the suffocating fear that's wrapped around me like a vice. I can still feel Cal's hands on me, his voice in my ear, and no matter how hard I try, I can't shake the memory of his cold, dark eyes burning into mine. My skin crawls just thinking about it, like a layer of grime I can't scrub off no matter how much I try, no matter how much I dig my nails into my skin to try and feel something other than his touch. It doesn't work.

Jack says he's gone. That he checked, that it's safe. But the words sound distant, like they're being spoken through a thick fog. I want to believe him—I do believe him—but I can't stop my heart from racing, my chest from tightening with every breath. It's like I'm suffocating under the weight of everything I've been trying so hard to forget, everything I've been trying to escape.

"Hey," Jack's voice cuts through the haze, gentle but firm, pulling me back to the present. His hand is warm and solid on my shoulder, and I cling to that feeling, desperate for anything that feels real, anything that reminds me I'm not alone.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice shaking. I can't even look at him, can't bear to see the pity or the frustration I'm sure is written all over his face. He's only known me for a day, and here I am, a complete mess, bringing all this chaos into his life. I shouldn't be here. I should have stayed away, kept my problems to myself, but I was so desperate to run, to be free, that I didn't think. And now, here we are. I've dragged him into my nightmare.

"Hey, stop that," Jack says softly, crouching down in front of me. His hand moves from my shoulder to my chin, gently tilting my face up until I'm forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, filled with a kindness I don't deserve, and for a moment, I'm too stunned to speak.

"You don't have to apologise," he continues, his voice steady, reassuring. "None of this is your fault, Rose. You did what you had to do to survive. There's no shame in that."

But there is. I feel it deep in my bones, a crushing guilt that I can't shake. I should have been stronger, smarter. I should have seen this coming. But I let myself believe that I could just walk away, that Cal would let me go without a fight. How could I have been so naive? What will my mother say when she inevitably materialises here?

"I should have known better," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "I should have known he wouldn't just leave me alone."

Jack's expression softens, and he shakes his head slightly. "You couldn't have known how far he'd go. People like Cal... they don't play by the rules. They don't let go easily. But that doesn't mean you're at fault. You're not responsible for his actions, Rose."

I want to believe him, but I've spent so long living in the shadow of Cal's control, constantly second-guessing myself, that I don't know how to break free. Even now, with Jack right in front of me, telling me I'm safe, I can't shake the feeling that this is just temporary, that it's only a matter of time before everything falls apart again. I know it will.

Jack must see the uncertainty in my eyes because he doesn't let go. Instead, he shifts closer, his thumb brushing gently against my cheek. "Look at me, Rose."

"N-no, I-I can't. I'm sorry." I fight for breath, swallowing and gasping as though I was drowning, fighting the perils of the ocean in my lungs, in my heart. It aches so badly, stings as if sea water was coursing through my veins, making its way into every cut, every wound, every—

"It's okay, but listen to me, listen to me. You're safe now. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay? I'm here. You're not alone in this. Do you understand, Rose? You're not alone. Not as long as I'm here."

The sincerity in his voice, the quiet determination in his eyes, it's almost too much. I feel the tears welling up, hot and unwelcome, and I try to blink them away, but it's no use. They spill over, one after the other, until I'm crying in earnest, the sobs wracking my body, leaving me trembling and weak.