Jaden s Pov... Continuation....
The car cut through the city, a dark blur against the glittering skyline. Ken drove in silence, respecting the heavy mood radiating from Jaden. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the blur of passing lights did little to calm the storm raging inside Jaden's head.
His mother's scream, the splintering sound of impact—they replayed themselves with brutal clarity, sharper than they had been in years. And in every flashback, Karen's face, pale and vulnerable on the couch, was inexplicably interwoven.
"Pull over, Ken," Jaden finally said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.
Ken, without a word, guided the car to the side of a quiet street overlooking the city, killed the engine, and turned to face Jaden. The silence that followed was thick, heavy with unspoken questions.
"It's happening again, isn't it?" Ken's voice was soft, laced with a familiar concern Jaden usually rebuffed. "The nightmares. Worse?"
Jaden stared out at the city, its distant glow offering no comfort. "They're not just nightmares anymore. They're... here." He clenched his fists, knuckles white. "And she was in them. Her face. Her."
Ken's brow furrowed. "The girl from the Golf House? Karen, you said?"
Jaden nodded, the name tasting strange on his tongue. "Every time I've seen her today, felt her near... it's like a trigger. It brought it all back, clearer than ever. The accident. My mom." The words were ripped from him, raw and painful. He hadn't spoken about his mother's death, not really spoken, since it happened. Even to Ken, the details remained largely unspoken, only hints of the lingering trauma.
"Jaden," Ken began carefully, "that's... that's serious. You need to talk to someone. Not just me. A therapist. Someone who can help you understand why this is happening with her."
"Understand what?" Jaden scoffed, a bitter edge to his voice. "That she's somehow connected to my worst memory? It's absurd. She's just... a stranger. An annoying stranger who happened to be drunk tonight." The denial was fierce, but even to his own ears, it sounded weak.
"Annoying strangers don't usually get you to carry them to a hotel room," Ken pointed out gently, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, trying to lighten the suffocating mood. "Something about her clearly got to you, man. More than just her 'rage' in the hallway."
Jaden fell silent again, the truth of Ken's words undeniable. He had acted on pure instinct, a pull he couldn't explain. He thought of Karen's vulnerable face as he laid her on the bed, the unexpected surge of protectiveness. It was confusing, infuriating. He wanted to push her out of his mind, erase her from the day, but she was stubbornly imprinted there, tangled with his deepest pain.
The night seemed endless, the city stretching out before them, indifferent to Jaden's internal war. He knew he couldn't go back to his apartment, not with the nightmares so vivid, the memories so close to the surface. He just wanted to outrun them, to outrun her influence, to find a sliver of the peace he so desperately craved.
"Just drive, Ken," Jaden repeated, his voice softer this time, defeated. "Anywhere but home. Just drive." Ken started the engine, and the car pulled back into the stream of traffic, carrying Jaden further into the restless, relentless night.