Chapter 277.

Before he could answer, she seized his hand and dragged him toward the room she had just left.

Christian followed her inside.

She shut the door behind them as quietly as she could and turned the lock. Then she threw herself against him.

This time, there was no attempt to fight.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him so tightly that he could barely breathe.

Christian’s hands settled against her back.

For a moment, he couldn’t speak.

Kylie was shaking.

Her fingers trembled against the back of his neck, and every few seconds her grip tightened as though she were afraid he might disappear if she loosened it.

Christian pressed his face into her hair.

He breathed her in.

She smelled faintly of soap and the salt air that had seeped into everything aboard the vessel. Beneath that was the familiar scent he associated with her, the one he had missed so much that he had begun to imagine it whenever he closed his eyes.

He held her closer. "I’m here," he whispered again.

Kylie made a small, broken sound against his shoulder.

He had never heard her make that sound before.

She had been holding herself together for hours, perhaps longer. She had been trying to stay alert, trying to find a way out, trying not to let the people who had taken her see how frightened she was.

And now she was in his arms.

Now she could finally let herself feel the relief.

Christian lifted one hand to the back of her head. "You’re okay."

She shook her head against his shoulder.

He stopped.

The words had come too quickly.

He didn’t know whether she was injured. He didn’t know what had happened after she was taken. He didn’t know whether she was okay.

So he tried again. "I’m here, Blue."

Kylie pulled away. Her hands remained on his jacket, gripping the fabric tightly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, breathless.

Christian searched her eyes.

He wanted to look at her properly, to check for injuries, and to make sure she could stand without pain. He wanted to take her face in his hands and make her promise never to disappear again, though he knew she had done nothing wrong.

Instead, he kept his voice low.

"Are you alright? You don’t expect me to leave you here, do you?"

For a moment, Kylie simply stared at him. Then her expression changed.

The relief in her eyes was replaced by alarm.

"Noah’s uncle." She glanced toward the door. "This is some twisted revenge plan."

Christian’s brows drew together. "You know who he is?"

"Of course I know who he is. He kidnapped me, Christian." She lowered her voice further. "You need to leave."

He stared at her.

She looked toward the door again. "Now."

"Kylie—"

"No." She pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him away. "You don’t understand. This isn’t some random kidnapping. He knows who I am. He knows about you. He called someone when I woke up, and he was expecting me to be here."

Christian’s expression hardened. "Did he hurt you?"

"That’s not the point."

"Did he hurt you?"

She hesitated.

His eyes moved over her face.

There was a faint mark near her cheek, and her hair was untidier than usual. Her hands were trembling, though she seemed determined to keep them still.

Christian felt something vicious rise in him.

He forced it down. Not now. Not while she was standing in front of him, alive and frightened and trying to push him out of the room because she thought it would save him.

"Blue," he said quietly.

She shook her head. She swallowed. "You don’t know what he’s planning. You don’t know what he wants from me. You don’t know what he’s going to do when he finds out you’re here."

"I know."

"No, you don’t."

"I know enough."

"Christian—"

"I’m not leaving you."

She stared at him as though he had just said something incomprehensible. Then she let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Are you playing with me?"

He raised a brow. "You’re leaving with me."

For a second, Kylie looked as though she might actually hit him.

She made a strangled sound of frustration.

Christian almost smiled. He wanted to kiss her. But first, he needed to get her off the vessel.

"Tell me what happened," he whispered.

Kylie glanced toward the door.

"I was walking back from the shop. Someone grabbed me from behind. I fought, but he hit me and used some kind of electric thing on my arm."

Christian’s expression went frighteningly still.

She saw it and immediately shook her head.

He didn’t speak.

"Christian, don’t look like that."

Despite everything, a breath of laughter escaped her. It was small and shaky, but it was real.

Christian’s chest tightened.

He had missed her laugh.

He had missed her so much that he hadn’t realised how much until he saw her standing at the end of that corridor.

"Have they fed you?"

"Rice and chicken."

"Did you eat?"

"Yes."

He nodded.

Kylie stared at him.

Christian leaned closer.

She looked at him for a long moment. Then she reached up and touched his cheek. It was such a small gesture that it nearly undid him.

Her fingers moved over his skin, lingering near his jaw as though she were reassuring herself that he was real.

"You came," she whispered.

Christian covered her hand with his. "Of course I came."

Her eyes filled. She looked away before the tears could fall.

He caught her chin gently. "Hey."

She shook her head.

"Look at me."

"I can’t."

"Blue."

She raised her eyes.

Christian brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I was coming for you the moment I knew where you were."

Kylie swallowed. "I thought—"

Her voice failed.

He waited.

She tried again. "I thought you might not find me."

The words were so quiet that he almost didn’t hear them. Christian felt them land somewhere deep inside him.

He had been afraid of losing her.

He hadn’t stopped to think about what it might have felt like for her to be the one waiting. The one who didn’t know whether anyone was looking.

He drew her into his arms. "I’m sorry."