Chapter 22: A Quiet Place Isn’t Always Safe

The rain had started again.

Ryan Carter sat by the cracked windowpane in the old library, where hardly anyone ventured. The hush of turning pages and distant footsteps comforted him, dulling the ache in his chest.

Outside, gray clouds pressed against the glass, and the oak’s branches scrabbled at the window like restless fingers an echo of his own restless thoughts.

He hadn’t seen Adrien since that tense hallway encounter. Ryan expected relief perhaps even a measure of peace once the courtroom drama and past betrayals were laid bare. Instead, all he felt was emptiness. Not freedom. Just a hollow ache.

“Found you.”

Ryan startled, looking up as the voice cut through the stillness. He hadn’t heard anyone slip inside. There, leaning against the far wall, was Adrien Fairchild the boy with the expensive blazer, the cold, intent gaze, and the uncanny habit of appearing whenever Ryan thought himself alone.

“Adrien,” Ryan said, rising slowly. His books clutched to his chest felt inadequate armor. “What are you doing here?”

Adrien stepped forward, his polished shoes silent on the floor. “You shouldn’t hide in places like this. Anyone with ill intent could get to you.”

Ryan frowned. “Is that a threat?”

“Not at all.” Adrien walked closer, the scent of his designer cologne faint but unmistakable. “It’s a promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

That possessive edge made Ryan’s heart slam against his ribs. “I don’t need your protection.”

Adrien paused, blue eyes narrowing. “Perhaps not. But you need someone. I think it should be me.”

Ryan’s spine stiffened. “You barely know me.”

“I know more than you think.” Adrien’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I saw you speak at the advocacy panel saw how the lights caught your face, how your voice carried conviction. I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to you.”

Ryan swallowed. “I’m not interested.”

Adrien’s expression softened into something almost tender. “You will be.”

He turned, melting back into the shadows of the library stacks. Ryan stood frozen until Adrien’s footsteps receded, leaving him alone with his pounding pulse.

Later that night, back in his dorm, Ryan’s phone lay on the desk, silent. No messages from Daniel. No apology from Thomas.The isolation settled over him like a second skin. He opened his messaging app and typed, then deleted:

Do you ever regret meeting me?

He couldn’t send it.

A sharp knock jolted him upright. Heart hammering, he opened the door but no one stood there. Only a crisp white envelope on the threshold. He picked it up with trembling fingers. Inside, a single sheet of paper bore a handwritten note:

They tried to break you once. I’ll break them if they try again. :A.

Ryan’s pulse raced. This was no gesture of admiration it was a declaration of ownership.

He crumpled the paper and pressed it to his chest. He didn’t feel safe. He felt hunted.

By morning, Ryan resolved to fight back. He headed to his favorite quiet corner in the student center, opened his blog draft, and wrote:

“Safety isn’t given by another it’s taken. No one claims me. I claim myself.”

He published it under his real name, tagging it #Boundaries #ClaimYourTruth. Comments and messages flooded in: offers to walk him to class, to accompany him to meetings, to amplify his words on social media. For the first time, Ryan felt the power of his own boundaries.

Leaving the student center, he passed Adrien in the quad. The boy’s gaze flicked over him, admiration and menace tangled in those pale eyes. Adrien lifted a hand in a slow, mock salute before disappearing into the crowd.

Ryan squared his shoulders. He wasn’t frightened he was resolved. He had named his boundary. Now, he would enforce it.