He Didn’t Kidnap Me. Not Exactly novel Chapter 146

Chapter 146

“The fact that I’m telling you beforehand should show you I don’t care if you warn him.”

My breathing became completely uneven now

“He walks around acting untouchable, Nathan spat. “Like he owns everything. Like he’s some mafia lord or some shit.”

Technically-

I stopped the thought immediately.

Not helping,

“I’m done tolerating him,” Nathan continued. “This is my school. My territory.”

The rage in his voice now felt real. Unstable.

“I built my name here. And I’m taking it back.”

For a second nobody spoke. Then Nathan tilted his head slightly.

“Go cry to him,” he said quietly. “Do it while you still can.”

That finally snapped something inside me and I stepped backward immediately.

Another step.

Then I turned and walked away quickly before my body could fully process whatever fresh disaster had just been delivered to my doorstep today.

Because apparently life had looked at my current predicament and said:

You know what this situation needs?

More violence.

Wonderful.

There’s a specific kind of exhaustion that happens when your life becomes so chaotic that new problems no longer arrive dramatically.

They just line up politely beside the old ones.

Like:

“Hello.”

“Sorry to interrupt your breakdown.”

“We brought additional stress.”

By the time I left campus, my head genuinely hurt.

It hurt bad

Because apparently surviving emotional collapse, social tension, a pressured apartment financial instability, and whatever weird thing Archer currently was to me required significant brain activity.

And speaking of financial instability-

I was broke.

That realization hit me halfway home after speaking with my mother earlier.

I had been so distracted with conflict lately that I hadn’t realized it.

I needed another job. I needed to send money home again.

I needed stability.

Meanwhile my life currently contained; One emotionally unavailable criminal athlete. One dangerously attractive transfer student. And one increasingly homicidal rival athlete.

With these thoughts, I genuinely considered lying on the sidewalk for a few minutes and letting the earth absorb me.

Instead, I kept walking. I forced my legs.

The moment I got home, I dropped into the nearest chair dramatically.

Not for attention.

There was nobody there.

Just for survival.

I rubbed both hands over my face slowly before dragging them through my hair.

Okay.

I needed calm.

That was all.

Just calm.

The car pulled up outside and I reacted without meaning to.

Several minutes later, the apartment door opened. DeLuca stepped inside.

Dark shirt almost hugging his frame. Black jeans. And that same composed expression that somehow became more annoying every single day.

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