Dante studied me through the rear-view mirror, obviously noting the tears I wished wouldn't fall. His calm gaze held something resembling empathy, but I couldn't stand any of it. At least he didn't talk. Chris kept silent as well, not even giving me another monologue with reasons for my abduction. It was probably in his best interest because I would have lashed out at him if he had tried to say anything.

They probably thought this unexpected trip would help me, but it was only going to exacerbate the problem. Running away never solved anything. Nevertheless, the dull throb in various body parts begged to differ.

Sitting back, I touched my tender wrist, prodding through the shirt that hid lines of bruises beneath it. Suddenly worried, I reached out for the bag of clothes Chris had brought along. The Bahamas wouldn't have inspired him to bring shirts with long sleeves. Touching various fabrics, I almost cried. Chris knew more than he'd let on.

He had packed most of my favorite outfits and shoes he'd thrown out of my closet weeks before when he'd complained that I never wore them these days. The clothes were bright, colorful and beautiful. Not thinking about the other two up front, I hugged one of the shirts to my chest like a long-lost friend.

* * * *

A dry voice sounded through the speaker system, warning for pickpockets. The message was faint amongst the bustling crowd—men and women, young and old, all going somewhere or returning home. Maybe someone was running away just like me, but I doubted any of them walked around the airport against their will.

Should I have struggled harder? Perhaps I should have kicked and screamed until Chris had let me go, but I had lost so many fights lately that one more barely counted. And, what would I fight for? A chance to mend a relationship that hurt both me and Gabriel? Hadn't I given him enough chances already?

Chris searched through his bag and winced when he opened his passport. As I studied his face and the way his upper lip curled, I realized that it wouldn't have mattered what I did. He would have brought me to this airport with or without force. Chris was incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be, especially when it came to matters of attachment. His relationship with Dante was the perfect example. I doubted Chris would ever give up no matter how difficult it became with long distance phone calls and rare visits. He was much stronger than I was.

He continued to rummage through his bag, opening another passport. He gave it to me with an apologetic smile. Frowning, I snatched it from his hand.

"You've been through my stuff?"

"Yeah, sorry."

I didn't believe that apology for a second, but I was strung out on so many conflicting emotions that I simply stared at my hands. I didn't know what to do with them, or what to do with myself.

Dante claimed a seat on a nearby bench, watching people pass by with interest. As I looked around, my response was entirely different. It felt as if I was fading away, drifting aimlessly in a sea of unknown people who didn't care. The urge to escape became overwhelming.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked.

Chris claimed the spot next to his boyfriend and smiled in a way that set off an alarm.

No. Just no.

"Chris. Are we waiting for someone?"

He only smiled again, looking awfully satisfied.

I didn't know how to feel. Boiling with emotion, I took my bag from the floor and stumbled forward even if I knew they would likely catch up and force me to go back.

I rushed, gripping my bag so tightly that the leather bit into my palm.

Chris called my name, pushing me to jog faster through the throng of people. Headed toward the exit, I lost my bearing and halted on the polished stone floor while my breathing continued to speed up. Cameron pushed a cart loaded with equipment through the revolving doors, disrupting everything. Voices faded around us, faces blurred.

He approached me carefully as if he feared that I might run away like a startled animal. It wasn't far from the truth. Adrenaline pumped through my system, readying me to flee if needed.

The cart rolled to the side as he stepped closer, not far from invading my personal space. He reached out and gave my upper arm a gentle squeeze, something that should have been strange but felt like the hug I desperately needed and desperately feared at the same time.

I tried to breathe slower, tried to find an anchor within myself to lay all those swirling emotions at rest—forbidden feelings and memories of dreams that had taken us too far.

"You okay?" Cameron said, unaware that it was the most difficult question he could have asked.

Letting go of my chafed lower lip, I wished to be miles away, not inside an airport where people close by could hear every word I said. "What are you doing here?"

"They didn't tell you?" He sounded mildly surprised.

"No."

Cameron smiled, which I found odd. "Well, I did tell you at one point."

My gaze traveled to the equipment and a sliver of longing nudged me from deep within. "Photo shoot," I mumbled.

"So you do remember."

How could I forget?

"Yes. I remember." I wanted to add that this still counted as abduction, but I couldn't find it in me to be angry. Not yet. Not when he smiled like the sun was shining inside the large hall.

"Where are the others?" Cameron scanned the crowd.

"They're waiting over there somewhere." I pointed over my shoulder, realizing that it would clue him in on my attempted escape.

"Then let's go." For a brief moment, it looked as if he were about to touch me again but changed his mind. My skin buzzed in expectation even if nothing had happened. The realization wrapped me tight, spreading angst in its wake. I wasn't supposed to feel like this. Maybe Gabriel had been right—perhaps I craved love like a lost puppy.

An image of Gabriel, serene as he lay in bed, assaulted me from within. I'd left him without a word, taking the easy way out when it had come along.

Cameron offered to take my bag on the cart, but I held on. It weighed me down in a way that somehow kept me grounded when everything around me seemed unreal. Was I really going with them?

People moved out of the way as Cameron pushed the whining cart across the floor, and soon we spotted the other two where I had left them.

Both of them got up and greeted Cameron. It became apparent that it was the first time Cameron and Dante had met each other, but also that Chris and Cameron knew each other far better than I'd thought. It made me wonder how many times they had talked about me behind my back. It was a sad thought, but could I blame them? Both had shown signs of being worried, and even if I didn't want to admit it, they had a valid reason. A few of my bruises began to pound as if to drive the message all the way home.

"I really have to call Gabriel," I said, mostly to myself. He must have been frantic back at the apartment, wondering where I'd gone. My stomach rolled with nausea. How could I do this to him? Leaving without a word after promising both myself and him that I would never betray him again.

"Hey, you need this, Adam." Chris paused beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "You know he's bad news, and even if this is hard, please give us a chance to help you."

I shut my eyes, refusing to acknowledge how right he was and afraid that he would see the truth if he looked too close.

I wanted to say that I didn't need their help, but the words sounded hollow even to me. The last painful days had been enough to prove the opposite.

"I'm not happy about this, Chris."

"I didn't expect you to be happy with it," he admitted. "But, I believe I'm doing the right thing and that's enough for me."

Letting out a tired sigh, I let him nudge me forward. We did have a plane to catch after all.

The Bahamas. Cameron. Gabriel at home waiting. What an unholy mess.

Was I weak for letting them guide me through check-in, security and the gate? Probably. But, as I sat down in the gray seat, staring out across the wide, barren stretches of tarmac with Cameron by my side, I forced my tears to stay away and decided that I wouldn't let them see how bad it all was. If they believed me to be fine, then hopefully, they wouldn't ask for answers I couldn't give them.

I wanted to call Gabriel, but what would I tell him? That I'd let my friends convince me to fly overseas? With a final strike, I had doomed any chance of a relationship with the guy I had believed to be the love of my life. What were we now? I wasn't sure. Uncertainty scared me almost as much as our relationship.

As the plane began to move, Cameron placed a small pillow in my lap. "You look exhausted. I can wake you up when they arrive with food if you want."

Smile, just smile and pretend. It didn't work, not when I saw the worry marring Cameron's forehead. I took the pillow, lodged it beside the window and feigned rest. Hopefully, it would help to keep him silent. I wasn't ready for small talk, or any talk at all for that matter. I had nothing to say—as if I'd lost the words to convey how I felt.

From the corner of my eye, I saw his hand straying toward mine. Struck with unbidden anxiety, I cradled it to my chest.

"Don't touch me." The words barely left my lips, faint and vulnerable.

He retreated slowly, leaving me in a state of limbo where I couldn't make sense of a single thing going on in my tired mind. All I knew was that his touch was unwelcome even as I craved the comfort.