"Just...be careful, Fall," he said, his voice cracking.
And with that, he was gone, the slam of the door echoing in the suddenly silent house. I turned to Hitch, who was now standing next to me, his arm snaking around my waist. The guilt lingered, a heavy weight on my chest, but mixed with a strange sense of liberation. It was a lie, I knew it. He'd never really let me be, and I didn't want him to. But the words that Brady had spoken about War had really struck a chord, and I was terrified.
"He'll be back," Hitch said softly, his voice a comforting rumble in my ear. "He loves you and Julian. He just doesn't know how to deal with things."
I leaned into him, seeking solace in his embrace. He pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me, offering a haven from the storm. But even in his arms, the questions lingered.
"I'm scared, Hitch," I confessed. "About everything."
He kissed the top of my head. "I know, crazy girl. But I'm here. We'll face it together. Whatever it is."
The word 'we' was a balm to my raw nerves, a promise of unity in the face of chaos. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe him, to trust in the strength of our connection. Maybe we could face it together. Maybe we could find a way through the darkness.
"What do we do now?" I asked, my voice small.
The aftermath of Brady's outburst hung in the air, a reminder of the fragility of our newfound peace. Hitch's eyes narrowed, a glint of determination replacing the softness. He seemed to be weighing his options, his mind racing.
"We need to figure out what's going on, and fast." His hand tightened on my waist, the gesture both possessive and protective. "We need to know what Foley is up to, and what War has to do with it."
"And Julian," I added, remembering my earlier thoughts. "We need to keep him safe."
Hitch nodded, his expression grim. "Absolutely. He's the most important thing." He paused, his gaze hardening. "And we need to figure out what's going on with you and War."
My heart skipped a beat, a mix of fear and excitement surging through me. I didn't want to talk about it, but I knew he was right. We couldn't ignore the white rose, the stalking, the intrigue. But a sense of dread washed over me, a foreboding that grew with every moment.
"I don't know what to think," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. "We'll figure it out," he said, his voice firm. "Together." He leaned in and kissed me, a slow, deliberate kiss that promised a future full of unknowns. "But first," he whisperedagainst my lips, "we are going to take Julian to see those Christmas lights."
A small smile crept onto my face. In the midst of the chaos, in the face of all the danger, Julian's bright eyes and innocent laughter were a lifeline. He was the anchor in the storm, the one thing that grounded me.
"You're right," I said, a sense of hope blooming in my chest. "Let's go."
We headed to the stairs when I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Hitch, wait!" I exclaimed.
Hitch turned around, with a confused look on his face.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I walked back toward the living room, and sat in the chair, eyes glued to the window.
"Do you see him?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
Hitch followed my gaze, and saw the figure that was standing in the shadows across the street. A figure with dark hair, and an even darker stare. It was War.
"I see him." Hitch answered. "Come on, let's go."
We rushed out the back door, and started running.
"Where are we going?" I panted.
"Outside to see what he wants." He answered.
The cold night air hit my face, the snow shocked me, but I didn't stop. We ran, adrenaline pumping through my veins, pushing us faster. My breath hitched in my throat, the sharp intake of cold air burning my lungs. I could hear the rhythmic thud of Hitch's footsteps beside me, a steady beat accompanying my erratic rhythm.
We didn't stop until we were a good distance from the house, hidden behind a large oak tree. I peered back, heart pounding, expecting to see War give chase, but he was gone. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, leaning against the rough bark of the tree for support.
