I leaned against the wall, palms flat, trying to ground myself. The cinderblock was cold against my skin.
It’s fine. You’re safe. He can’t hurt you here.
The lights above flickered once.
Then I heard it. Boots on concrete. Slow, measured steps.
My throat closed.
“Linc?” I called.
No answer.
The steps kept coming.
I took a step back, fumbling for my phone. The signal bars blinked weakly—too much steel in the building, too far from the entrance. No service.
“Linc?” I called louder. “It’s not funny.”
The steps didn’t stop. They echoed in a rhythm I knew too well.
And then his voice.
“You shouldn’t have run off that night. We had some fun to get to,” he said, his voice as creepy as it had been that night.
My stomach dropped clean out of me.
Josh stepped into the light. The rope was coiled in his hand like it had never left it.
“I was gonna apologize,” he said. “But you made me look bad.”
My back hit the wall. “Stay away from me.”
He tilted his head, eyes glinting with something cold. “You know, I thought about leaving you alone. Figured maybe you learned. But then I see you here, acting like nothing happened. Like you didn’t ruin me.”
“I didn’t ruin you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You did that yourself.”
His jaw twitched. “You always had a smart mouth.”
He took a step closer.
I reached for the door handle, but his hand slammed it shut before I could move it an inch. The sound cracked through the narrow hallway.
He smiled. Small. Cruel. “Miss me?”
The space between us closed until I could see every line of the scar Linc had given him. The rope in his hand swayed, the loose loop brushing his leg with each breath.
“I thought you were dead,” I whispered.
He grinned wider. “Yeah. That’s what everyone thought.”
“Why come back?”
“Because you owe me.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
He laughed, low and bitter. “You took everything. My job. My reputation. You think these people still want to rope with me after what you told them? You think I don’t hear them whisper?” His voice echoed off the concrete, sharp enough to slice. I flinched, glancing toward the door, praying someone heard.
