"The only reason I'm even considering taking you," he measures his words carefully, "is because I have other issues to deal with… and I don't trust anyone near you but me."
I don't care. Not about his issues. Not about his reasons. Not about his control. Only one thing matters: He's taking me.
A strange sense of… relief settles in my chest.
"I won't get in your way," I promise.
That's a lie. We both know it. I say it anyway. His mouth twitches slightly.
"You stay behind me," he orders. "You don't speak unless I tell you to."
I hold his gaze. Consider it. Nod. For now. The truth is, I don't know what this version of me is capable of anymore. She's been buried for a long time. Locked away. Tamed. The girl who didn't think twice. Who didn't hesitate. Who didn'tcareif she crossed a line as long as someone deserved it.
Pete softened her. Or maybe he just… shaped her into something easier to live with. Life did the rest. Routine. Responsibility. Love. The kind that came with quiet expectations and unspoken rules.
I can feel her now. Just under the surface. Watching. Waiting. I'm not sure she's the same girl I remember. Back then, she was dangerous. Now?
After everything that's happened—after what I saw, after what they did?—
I think she might be something worse. Something colder. Something that doesn't hesitate at all. The scary part? It doesn't stop me. That should terrify me. But it doesn't.
Gabe watches me for a moment longer. I'm sure he sees it too. He knows exactly what I just realized. His eyes darken. Not with surprise. More with… recognition.
"Get dressed," he demands finally. His voice is back to that controlled, commanding tone. "Five minutes."
I nod and turn. Walk toward the bedroom. But I don't miss it, the way his gaze lingers on my back. Heavy. Assessing. He's probably recalculating everything he thought he knew about me. I pick a pair of jeans and a shirt. Shove thoughts of Pete, who gave me the shirt, to the back of my head.
I call Mom, who is back to her full self. Complaining about the food, the nurses, that it's too cold, and that it'll take foreverbefore they'll let her go. I tell her the cats are fine and ate well, but are missing her. I stretch the truth because I only went into her room to refill their water and to make sure to top off the dry food. Mittens hissed at me. I hissed back and retreated.
Twenty minutes later, we're in the car, driving to God only knows where. I should be afraid. I'm not. It's like part of me is dead. Died with Pete in that warehouse. Burned down to nothing. And what crawled out of the ashes… isn't the woman he shaped me into being.
The car ride is quiet. Too quiet. Once again, the city moves around us, lights, people, life going on like nothing happened. Like my world didn't just burn to the ground. I'm starting to get used to that feeling.
Gabe sits next to me, one arm resting casually on the divider between us, which I pulled down the moment we took our seats. He noticed, of course, the way he notices everything, and smirked. This is probably just another day at the office for him.
"Listen carefully," he catches my attention after a few minutes. I turn my head slightly. "You stay out of it," he continues. "You don't speak unless I tell you to."
I nod.
"I mean it, Audra." His voice drops, harder now. "If at any point it becomes too much, you leave."
My fingers tighten in my lap.
"There'll be guards outside," he adds. "You walk out that door, they take you somewhere safe. No questions."
Safe. The word feels… distant. Unreal. I swallow. "Okay."
But even as I say it, I know I won't. He studies me for a second longer. Then he leans back, his gaze shifted forward again. Conversation over. Just like that.
I turn toward the window. Try to steady my breathing. Try to ignore the knot forming in my stomach. Am I really doing this?The question echoes in my head. And underneath it, the old me answers. Hell yes.
A familiar rush spreads through me. Hot. Sharp. Alive: Adrenaline. The same kind I felt when the cops arrested me. Only stronger. Cleaner. Less tangled in confusion. More… focused.
My pulse quickens when out of nowhere a memory returns. I was seventeen. Out in the desert just outside Vegas. The kind of place you don't go unless you're looking for trouble. Or don't care if you find it. On a stolen dirt bike that didn't belong to me or anyone I should've been anywhere near.
I remember the engine roaring beneath me. The wind tearing at my face. The drop ahead, too steep. Too dangerous. Everyone yelling at me to stop. I didn't. I hit it faster. Harder. Flew over that ridge with nothing to lose. Feeling invincible. The landing nearly threw me off. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would explode.
And me? I laughed. God, I laughed. Because it feltgood.That rush. That edge. That moment where everything could go wrong and didn't.
