Bound to my High School obsession

Chapter 4: The Less You Know

The warmth of his hand against my cheek was a cruel contrast to the ice flooding my veins. For a fraction of a second, I wanted to lean into his touch, to let his strength anchor me against the absolute madness of what had just happened.

Then reality snapped back into place. My family had just fled into the night, using me as a human shield, and Anthony had stood by and let it happen.

I violently pulled away from his hand, taking a jagged step back. "Don’t touch me."

Anthony’s hand hung in the empty air for a moment before he slowly let it drop to his side. His crystal clear blue eyes never left my face, entirely unbothered by my outburst.

"Where did they go, Anthony?" My voice cracked, thick with the tears I was fighting desperately to suppress. "Where is my mother? Where is Chase taking her?"

"Away from here," he said simply, his tone infuriatingly level. "Somewhere safe."

"That is not an answer!" I shouted, the sound echoing off the high ceilings of the empty, cluttered living room. I gestured wildly to the discarded clothes and unzipped bags on the floor. "My stepfather just left me here as bait for dangerous people! My brother looked like he was about to vomit from fear! I want to know exactly what William did, who is looking for him, and where they are heading right now."

I took a step toward him, poking a finger aggressively into his chest. It felt like striking a wall of solid marble. "And don't lie to me. You said you’ve been handling William's security for months. You knew they were running tonight. Tell me the truth."

Anthony didn't flinch. He looked down at my finger against his t-shirt, then back up to my eyes. The fierce intensity in his blue gaze softened just a fraction, replaced by a heavy, unyielding solemnity.

"I can't do that, Annabel," he murmured.

"You can't, or you won't?"

"I won't," he corrected softly, taking a step closer, forcing me to tilt my head back to look at him. "And I’m doing it to keep you alive. William got involved with a group of people who don't use banks and don't care about the law. They are ruthless, and they are smart. If I tell you where your mother is, you will try to contact her. If I tell you the names of the people William owes, you’ll panic even more than you are right now."

He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a gravelly, protective whisper. "The less you know about William’s mess, the safer you are. If anyone shows up at that door, you aren't lying when you tell them you know absolutely nothing. Your ignorance is your best defense. I’m keeping it that way."

"I have a right to know if my family is safe!" I cried, a tear finally escaping and tracking down my cheek.

Anthony’s jaw clenched, a muscle leaping in his cheek. He looked like he wanted to reach out and wipe the tear away again, but he kept his hands firmly in his pockets. "Chase is with them. He knows the protocol. They are safe. That’s all you get."

Before I could argue further, Anthony broke eye contact and shifted into a cold, clinical security mode. The aloof boy from high school was completely gone, replaced by a man who looked entirely too comfortable dealing with a crisis.

He walked past me into the dark living room. With swift, silent movements, he grabbed the cords to the heavy window blinds, pulling them down tight and shutting out the dim, gray dawn light. He moved from window to window, checking the locks, testing the frames, making sure everything was sealed airtight.

I followed him like a shadow, my frustration boiling beneath my skin. "You can't just keep me in the dark, Anthony! This is my life! I came back here to help my mom with her finances, not to be locked inside a house waiting for criminals to show up!"

Anthony didn't reply. He marched into the kitchen, checked the deadbolt on the back door, and rattled the handle to ensure it was secure. His silence was a brick wall, deflecting every single one of my frantic questions.

Suddenly remembering the phone in my robe pocket, I pulled it out with trembling hands. I’ll just call Chase, I thought frantically. I’ll call my mom. They wouldn't just leave me without—

A large, warm hand clamped gently but firmly over my fingers, stopping me from illuminating the screen.

I looked up, breathless. Anthony had closed the distance between us without a sound. He didn't rip the phone away from me; he just held my hand, preventing me from using it.

"Don't," he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine. "If William's phone is being monitored—and it likely is—any call or text from you right now will ping the nearest tower. It will give away their location, and it will put a target right on your back. Give it to me."

"No," I breathed, gripping the phone tighter.

Anthony didn't argue. He just slowly slid his fingers down, gently prying my frozen hand open until the phone slid into his palm. He slipped it into his own back pocket. "I’ll keep it off. When it’s safe to check for a message, I’ll let you know. Trust me, Annabel."

"Trust you?" I let out a breathless, mocking laugh, my mind spinning into overdrive. "I don't even know you! You're the guy from high school who never said two words to me, and now you're running my life, locking down my house, and taking my phone. How do I know you aren't working with the people William owes?"

The moment the words left my mouth, the temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop.

Anthony froze. The protective, calm demeanor vanished, replaced by a sudden, dangerous stillness. He stepped fully into my space, his broad chest pressing against mine, trapping me against the kitchen island.

When he spoke, his voice was so low it was practically a vibration against my ribs.

"If I were working with them, Annabel, you would already be in the back of a van. I wouldn't have spent the last three days watching your door to make sure no one sneaked up your stairs. I wouldn't be standing here right now, putting my own life on the line to play shield for a stepfather who used you as a decoy."

He reached out, his long fingers gently gripping my chin, forcing me to look directly into those crystal clear blue eyes. There was no mockery in them. No games. Just a raw, terrifyingly needy intensity that made my breath stutter.

"Your family ran away," Anthony whispered, his thumb brushing against my lower lip. "But I'm still here. I'm the only thing standing between you and the dark right now. So yeah, you're going to have to trust me."

He let go of my chin, stepping back just enough to pour a glass of cold water from the fridge. He slid it across the counter to me, his expression hardening back into a stoic mask.

"Drink. Then go upstairs and put some real clothes on," he commanded quietly. "From now on, you don't leave my sight."