I follow him in silence. I don’t have the energy to argue anymore. Something in the way he moves, the quiet surety of it, makes me feel it’s pointless to resist. Whatever they’ve decided, that’s what’s going to happen.
“It’s okay,” Zane declares. “I’ll show Aurora where she can stay with us.”
We walk up the stairs and through the back hall of the apartment above the bar, and I can’t help but notice how different he feels compared to Ryder. Ryder’s intense, a storm waiting to happen. Zane? He’s calm. Quiet. It’s like the storm can’t touch him, and somehow, it makes me feel everything’s slowing down.
Not in a bad way, but like he’s not about to make me rush into something before I’m ready.
I’m conscious of my bag slung over my shoulder. I’m not here for long, or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I should have enough, right? Pajamas, stuff for the morning, toiletries…
Yeah, it’ll be fine, I’m sure.
We reach a guest room, and he opens the door. It’s cozy, small, but warm.
“Get some rest,” Zane murmurs. “Ryder won’t let up. Neither will I.”
Part of me wants to be angry, to tell them to leave me alone. But there’s something in the way Zane’s handling everything that makes it hard to stay mad.
I sit on the edge of the bed, trying to piece together everything that’s happened. I didn’t come here for this. I didn’t ask for it. But here I am. And in some strange way, I know that they’re trying to protect me. Even if I don’t want it.
It’s a weird feeling, being trapped and protected at the same time.
I don’t know how to feel about any of this. But I’m sure I’ll figure it out tomorrow. Right now, though? I’m exhausted. And maybe… I feel a little safer than I did when I walked in here.
Not that I’ll admit it anytime soon.
I’ve been lying in bed for what feels like hours, trying to block out the noise in my head. But it’s no use. Thoughts keep coming, relentless, spinning in circles I can’t stop.
Eventually, I sit up, my feet brushing against the cool wooden floor. I stare at the wall, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do next. I could get up, walk around, and try to clear my head. Or maybe I should just go to Finn’s room and ask him why he’s watching over me like I’m some fragile thing that needs guarding.
I stand up and move toward the door, careful not to make a sound, in case everyone else is sleeping.
The hallway is dim, just enough light seeping through the cracks of the stairs. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m not ready to be in that room alone anymore.
I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t be walking around in the middle of the night like this.
But I can’t stop myself.
I end up standing by the staircase, the cold from the window cooling my skin. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, so wound up. I want to just go back to my room, close my eyes, and pretend everything’s okay. But I can’t. My mind is racing. I feel I’m being pulled in too many directions at once.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps. They’re clumpy, as if someone’s walking hard on purpose, not trying to be quiet. My heart jumps in my chest, and I freeze, trying to calm myself, trying to still my breathing as a shadow appears at the bottom of the stairs.
It’s Ryder.
He doesn’t say anything. Just watches me, those eyes of his catching mine, trying to figure out what I’m doing.
I open my mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. My nerves are twisting in knots, and I just feel exposed. I feel he can see everything I’m trying to keep hidden.
“Can’t sleep?” Ryder asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.
I nod, but I can’t find the courage to speak. In the middle of this quiet house, I feel small and exposed. All I want is to crawl back into bed and forget the way he’s looking at me—like I’m something worth protecting. Like I’m a little bit broken.
I glance away, not able to keep his gaze for too long.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
I hate how unsure it sounds. I’m not fine. I don’t even know what I’m doing here anymore. But I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell anyone that.
Ryder doesn’t push it. He just stands there, his eyes still watching me, not in a judgmental way, but in a way that makes me feel he’s expecting me to act.
