And then I did. I glanced at the door and saw him.
Zaghan.
He stepped inside like a shadow bleeding into the light. The weight of his presence pressed into the space, into my chest, his aura a quiet violence that settled into the bones of the room.
The easy noise of the café dulled, swallowed by something unseen yet palpable.
Then his gaze found me. And just like that, breathing became an impossible task.
“It’s okay if you need time to think about it.” Oblivious to the danger approaching, Rowan still latched onto my hand like it was his lifeline. “I know it’s been difficult for both of us.” Then he paused skeptically.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, finally reading the room, his gaze following my line of vision. But before he could crane his neck to see the bad omen approaching, Zaghan was by the table.
“Uh, hey man.” So unassuming and innocent, Rowan gave him a welcoming smile, questioning eyes bouncing between me and the man hovering over us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, barely above a whisper, then I realised he wasn’t even looking at me, but at the middle of the table where Rowan’s hand and mine were joined together.
Zaghan’s jaw tightened, eyes the darkest I had ever seen them. Quickly, I pulled my hand away, my action plunging Rowan into a huge state of confusion.
“Sorry, what’s going on here?” Rowan’s eyes shifted from Zaghan to me, then to Zaghan again. “Is there a problem?” He looked back at me. “Do you know him?”
“I have a history around here. So I don’t want to make a scene.” Zaghan’s tone was lethal, a poison seeping into our skin. “And I’d hate to be forced to.” His eyes fell on me, and the storm roaring in the depths made me want to shrink and disappear. “Get up.”
“But–”
“–Trust me, you don’t want me to repeat myself.”
I had never seen the worst of Zaghan or imagined the extremely wicked things he could be capable of. But somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew his threats couldn’t be so empty. It wasn’t just a means to scare me into obeying his command. So when I pulled my chair back and stood, I knew this was the best decision for not just me, but for Rowan as well.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” Rowan proceeded to his feet, ready to defend me. “Who is this man, Beth?”
The dainty cups that held coffee shook, the liquid inside trembling as Zaghan’s hands slammed on the table, eyes narrowed at Rowan. “Take a step from where you are currently standing and you’ll not be walking ever again.”
His words were cold, a dark promise Rowan must have felt deeply as he froze, barely taking in the next breath let alone another step.
“Move,” Zaghan ordered the moment his eyes shifted to me.
I could barely make any other bodily movement other than forcing my legs to move. I didn’t even dare to glance back atRowan. My eyes remain pinned on the exit door just a couple of steps ahead.
And the closer I got to the door, the louder the voice at the back of my head echoed.
How did he find me?
???
“Did you put a tracker on me?” I asked the question and shattered the heavy silence of the long-hour drive from the coffee shop to the guesthouse.
I had spent every second of this ride trying to dissect how he found me. And the only answer that made sense was that somehow, there might be a tracker placed on me. The possibility alone coiled tight in my chest like a warning. But how? I had gotten this new phone barely 72 hours ago.
“Did you?” I pressed when he didn’t answer. “You’ve been tracking me. Why?”
I didn’t need evidence to back up my point. Either there was a tracker or someone had been asked to tail me, monitor my movement. Keep me on a close watch. Just like Mother.
I was glaring at him, but that was hardly effective as his eyes were closed–had been closed the entire ride back to the apartment. His jaw kept flexing, a vein pulsing at his temple, holding back violence, but he hadn’t said a word.
“Did you–”
“–Get out.” His eyes were still shut, but his voice was razor-sharp, laced with barely restrained fury.
