The morning was silent.No TVs from neighbors.No traffic.No dogs barking.Nothing.Like the whole city held its breath.
“Stop,” I whispered to myself.“Don’t break again.Not tonight.”
But the fear that lurked beneath my skin since the day I ran suddenly unfurled sharp claws.Memories slammed into me -- his fists, his voice, the bruises he left where no one would notice them.He’d promised he’d find me.Promised I’d regret leaving.Promised nobody would protect me.
Was that a footstep outside the door?
No.No.No.
My pulse hammered.Dizziness washed over me.I pushed away from the wall and rushed toward the window.Curtains remained shut, but I tugged a corner aside an inch.Darkness swallowed the yard.One flicker of movement against the mailbox.A figure shifting weight like someone trying not to draw attention.
My throat closed.Tears stung.
Someone really was watching.
The building’s front door squeaked down below.Heavy boots thudded inside the stairwell.A slow climb -- one step at a time.Like a predator savoring the scare before the kill.
I stumbled backward until I hit the couch.My knees nearly buckled.
The footsteps stopped right outside my door.
A knuckle hit wood.Firm.Measured.Not a frantic pounding -- a controlled strike that saidOpen up.
“Marci!”
The voice punched straight through fear.
Ace.
My body sagged in relief so intense everything shook.I scrambled to the door, fingers fumbling over cold metal, chain rattling as I unhooked it.The final lock clicked, and I yanked the door open.
Ace filled the frame, shoulders broad, stance braced like he expected violence on the other side.His face was a mix of fury and fear, his jaw tight, breath rough.The dim emergency light in the hallway lined his figure in a fierce outline.He scanned me from head to toe, hands flexing like he needed to touch me to make sure I was real.
I didn’t last a second.I broke.
A sob ripped out before I could swallow it.Heat spilled down my cheeks and my vision blurred.Fear, relief, everything collided so hard my knees went weak.
Ace reached me faster than air.His arms banded around me, strong and grounding.He backed us into my apartment while his boot kicked the door closed behind him.Locks clacked as he worked one-handed, never releasing me from his hold.His heartbeat thudded hard against my cheek.
“What happened?”His voice rumbled low, control stretched thin.
Words tangled behind panic, but I forced them out.“Someone’s out there.Watching.The lights went out.Landline died.My phone’s dead.I didn’t know what to do.”
His breath hissed through clenched teeth.The anger wasn’t aimed at me.It drenched every syllable directed toward whatever threat lurked outside.
“You should have called me sooner.”
“I tried.No power.No phone.”My voice cracked.
He cursed under his breath, then cupped the back of my head.That hand held steady gentleness that shouldn’t belong to a man covered in ink and muscle built for violence.His thumb brushed damp skin beneath my eye.
“How long?”He didn’t askAre you sure?He trusted me.
“A while.I was asleep and then realized the power had gone off.I’m not entirely sure of the time it happened.”
He nodded once, sharp.Then he moved past me toward the window.A tight shift of his shoulders showed the shift from comfort to threat assessment.He parted the curtain enough to see the yard.His breathing slowed, deliberate and controlled, eyes narrowing as he searched the shadows.
“Don’t see anyone.”He didn’t relax.“That doesn’t mean no one came.”
