After a quick goodbye to Ms. Taylor, I gather their backpacks and lead them down the hallway. Emma chatters nonstop about her day, her words spilling out like a waterfall, while Ella hums quietly beside me.
The parking lot is quiet as I unlock the car and open the back door. I lift Ella into her booster seat first, buckling her in and handing her Boo. Then I move on to Emma, who squirms playfully as I try to secure her seatbelt.
“Hold still, silly goose,” I tease, adjusting the strap.
That’s when I see it.
A car.
It’s parked across the street, unmarked and nondescript, with its windows tinted and engine idling.
My breath catches, and my hands falter on the seatbelt.
Jason.
It could be a coincidence; a stranger stopping to check directions or make a call. But I know better. My gut knows better.
“Mommy, why are you crying?” Emma’s question pierces through the fog of my fear.
“I’m not crying, baby,” I say quickly, blinking back tears as I snap the buckle into place. My voice wavers, betraying me.
Ella leans forward, her small hand reaching out to pat my arm. “It’s okay, Mommy.”
I shut the door and step around to the driver’s seat, my movements stiff and mechanical. My hands tremble on the wheel as I start the car, my eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
The unmarked car doesn’t move. The twins’ voices fill the silence as I pull onto the street, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. I keep my eye on the rearview mirror as I continue to drive. I can feel the back of my neck prickle, as if something bad is about to happen.
By the time I park in our driveway, my nerves are frayed. The car didn’t follow me, but the tension doesn’t leave my body. He’s everywhere.
Inside, I lock every door and window, and check the security cameras twice before I let the girls settle in the living room with their toys.
At the kitchen table, I pull the card from my pocket. Mars Security.
Jason always finds a way.
With shaking hands, I dial the number.
“Mars Security,” a deep voice answers after two rings.
My breath catches. That voice… no, it can’t be.
“Damon?” I whisper, the name tumbling out before I can stop it.
“Mia?” he says finally. “Is that you?”
And just like that, the world tilts.
CHAPTER 2
DAMON
The phonenearly slips from my hand when I hear her voice.
Six years. Six damn years.
I searched for her for months after she vanished, combed through every possible lead, only to come up with nothing. And now, out of nowhere, here she is calling me, asking for protection. The irony tastes bitter, like chewing on glass.
“Mia,” I say her name, testing it after all this time, like a prayer or maybe a curse.
