Darkness isn't empty.
It's loud.
I hear the crash before I feel it—the metal bending, the glass breaking, the world collapsing into itself. Then comes the weightless second when everything stops… before life slams back into me.
A gasp tears from my throat as consciousness returns in flashes.
Cold air.
Wet skin.
The sharp sting on my cheek.
The smell of smoke and blood.
"Kaiden…" My voice cracks.
He's slumped against the shattered window, head hanging forward, shirt soaked with blood. Too still.
Too quiet.
"Kaiden!" I shove at his shoulder. My hands shake so much I barely recognize them as mine.
No response.
Terror crawls up my spine, cold and merciless. I hate him. I fear him. I ran from him.
But the thought of him dying—
No.
No.
I can't.
"Wake up! Please!" My voice breaks.
A groan escapes him—low, rough, pained. Relief nearly takes me out.
He lifts his head an inch, eyes heavy, unfocused. "You okay?" he whispers, voice slurred.
I choke out a shaky laugh. He's bleeding, barely awake, and still asks if I'm okay.
"I'm fine," I lie. My ribs hurt with every breath and my head is pounding, but none of that matters. "We need to get out. They found us."
His jaw clenches, like even unconscious he's trying to fight. "Give me… a second."
But we don't have seconds.
Because footsteps crunch over broken branches outside the car. Slow. Calculated. Getting closer.
I freeze.
Kaiden's eyes snap open—predator-sharp for one moment. He grabs my wrist weakly. "Move. Out the passenger side. Now."
"But you—"
"Don't argue. Go."
I climb through the shattered window, hiss as glass slices my legs. Rain pours harder, soaking me instantly.
Kaiden tries to follow, but his knees buckle. I reach for him without thinking—
And freeze when a cold voice cuts through the rain.
"Step away from him."
A man in black tactical gear stands by the tree line, rain dripping from his mask. His gun is pointed at Kaiden's head.
"No—no, don't," I breathe.
"It's okay," Kaiden says, though his voice is barely a whisper. He straightens, even wounded. Even dying. He stands like he's still in control. "You're not touching her."
The masked man laughs. "She's the reason we're here."
Kaiden stiffens. His eyes snap to me—realization, fear, warning all tangled into one.
My stomach drops.
His voice, muffled behind the mask, turns unsettlingly polite.
"Miss, come here please. We are not here to hurt you."
I don't move.
I don't trust him.
And I won't walk toward someone aiming a gun at my husband.
"Who are you?" I ask, trying to buy time. Trying to understand. Trying not to faint.
Why would they want me?
The man raises the gun. "Enough talking."
"Run," Kaiden hisses. "Don't look back."
But I can't leave him.
I should. God knows I should.
Instead, I step in front of him, blocking the shot.
"Move," the shooter snaps.
"No," I whisper. "If you kill him, you kill me."
The shooter's finger twitches on the trigger—The rain grows louder.
Then—
Gunfire erupts from the right.
Three sharp, clean shots.
The masked man collapses.
Kaiden sways hard. "Backup," he mutters. "Took them long enough…"
His men run toward us. Black SUVs roar up behind them.
"Boss!" one shouts. "We've got him—get the miss inside!"
Kaiden tries to step forward but nearly falls. I catch him. His fingers curl weakly around my wrist, like he's afraid I'll vanish again.
"Don't… leave," he murmurs.
Something painful twists in my chest.
His men lift him into the SUV. I follow without hesitation. Rain and tears blur together on my face.
As they settle him against the seat, his eyes open halfway—unfocused, searching for me.
"Why… were they looking for me?" I whisper.
The question falls out before I can stop it.
Before I can swallow the terror behind it.
Kaiden's lips part.
His breath stutters.
For a moment, he looks like he's about to answer.
Then he winces, head falling back as the pain overtakes him.
One of his men barks, "Hold pressure on the wound!"
I press the cloth to Kaiden's side again. His hand finds mine, gripping weakly.
"Tell me," I whisper, my throat tight. "Kaiden, why me? What do they want?"
His eyelids flutter.
But the SUV hits a bump, and he slips under, unconscious.
"Kaiden!" I shake him, panic closing in. "Wake up! You didn't answer me!"
He doesn't move.
"Move, move, move!" someone shouts. The car jerks forward so fast my shoulder hits the window.
"We need to get him to Dr. Hale—now!" the driver yells.
Rain pounds the car like fists. My pulse mirrors it, too loud, too fast.
Kaiden's blood is everywhere—on the leather seats, on my hands, under my nails. Warm. Sticky. Terrifying.
"Is he—?" My voice dies before the question finishes.
"Alive," the man in the passenger seat says. He glances back, tense. "But losing blood fast."
I look at Kaiden—my husband, my captor, my protector, my contradiction—and something inside me twists painfully.
My hands tremble as I press the cloth to his side. He winces—barely—but it's enough to break me a little.
"You're okay," I breathe. "Just stay with me, Kaiden. Just… stay."
The car hits a bump. He groans, eyelids fluttering. His hand lifts weakly—searching blindly—and lands over mine, pressing my palm harder against the wound.
He doesn't let go.
Tears burn behind my eyes. I blink them away.
"You shouldn't have stepped in front of me," he murmurs, voice slurred, barely audible.
"You shouldn't have gotten shot," I whisper back, trying to sound angry. It comes out shaky instead.
Then his head lolls sideways, his grip loosening again.
"Kaiden?" I lean closer. "Kaiden!"
"Boss is fading!" the passenger shouts.
"Hurry!" I cry out. "Please!"
The engine roars louder as the driver accelerates.
His blood seeps through the cloth, through my fingers, staining my skin.
"Stay with me," I whisper again, desperate now. "Please, please stay with me."
His eyelashes twitch. He exhales shakily. "You came back," he barely breathes.
My throat tightens.
I didn't come back.
I was dragged back into his world—his danger—his lies.
But I can't say that.
Not when he might not make it through the next minute.
"Yes," I whisper.
Because it's the only truth that matters right now.
"Yes, I'm here."
The car speeds through the gates of a massive estate. Men shout orders.
His body is lifted from the seat. I follow, refusing to let them separate us.
Inside the blindingly bright hallway, just before they push him into the operating room, his eyes flutter open—barely.
He looks at me.
And the last words he whispers before the door shuts leave my blood cold:
"They weren't… after you."
A pause. His breath shakes.
"They were sent… because of you."