? lyrics and lattes ?

Chapter Eighteen: Safe

Malia was losing her mind.

She’d driven around for over an hour, checking every street, every corner, every place Kylie might’ve gone.

Nothing.

Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Where was she?

Malia had half a mind to turn around and kill Ruby for this, but she pushed that thought aside. She needed to find Kylie first.

Then she saw her.

Small. Shaking.

Walking down an empty street with her arms wrapped around herself, shoulders curled in like she was trying to disappear.

Malia slammed the brakes and threw the car into park before she was even fully stopped.

“Kylie.”

Kylie flinched.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide, but she didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Malia was out of the car in seconds.

She crossed the distance between them fast, heart in her throat, eyes scanning Kylie’s face—her tear-streaked cheeks, her trembling lips, the way her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Something bad had happened.

Malia’s blood ran ice cold.

“Baby.” Her voice cracked. “What happened?”

Kylie just stood there.

Silent.

Frozen.

Malia’s chest ached.

She reached out carefully, fingers brushing against Kylie’s cheek.

Kylie blinked, and then—

She collapsed into her.

Malia caught her instantly, arms wrapping tight around her, holding her so close as Kylie’s whole body shook.

“Shh,” Malia whispered, pressing her lips to Kylie’s temple. “I got you, baby. I got you.”

Kylie didn’t make a sound.

She just clung to Malia, face buried in her chest, fingers gripping her hoodie like she’d disappear if she let go.

Malia swallowed hard, her heart breaking.

“Come here,” she murmured, tightening her hold.

She didn’t care that they were in the middle of the street.

Didn’t care who saw.

She bent down, slid her arms under Kylie’s legs, and lifted her.

Kylie curled into her instantly, pressing her face deeper into Malia’s neck.

Malia’s jaw clenched.

She didn’t know what happened.

Didn’t know who hurt her.

But she was livid.

And more than that—she was scared.

Kylie had never been like this.

Silent.

Small.

Barely breathing.

Malia carried her back to the car, gently setting her in the passenger seat.

Kylie still wouldn’t let go.

Her fingers stayed tangled in Malia’s hoodie, knuckles white, her whole body trembling.

Malia exhaled shakily.

She climbed into the driver’s seat and reached over, carefully prying Kylie’s hands from her hoodie—only to lace their fingers together instead.

Kylie’s grip was weak but desperate.

Malia squeezed.

Her voice was soft but firm.

“You’re safe, Pretty Princess. I promise.”

Kylie’s breath hitched.

And finally—finally—she nodded.