Chapter 50We’ll Have to Do It Afraid
We’ll Have to Do It Afraid
Isabella
The black Maserati roars to life, its engine purring like a living thing as Dominik grips the wheel with a tension I can feel even without looking at him.
I settle into the seat, my eyes fixed straight ahead, watching the road stretch out into the blackness.
It’s a strange kind of silence that fills the car, a silence that hangs between us, thick with anticipation and fear.
I’m sorry Ada, but I have to do this.
The headlights cut through the night, illuminating only the dense forest surrounding us. There’s nothing but trees, shadows, and the endless stretch of asphalt leading deeper and deeper into forgotten woods, miles away from any trace of civilization.
The air feels heavy in the car, pressing down on me as we move further into the unknown. Every mile, every second, feels like it’s taking us closer to something I’m not sure we can handle.
The tension is palpable. Dominik doesn’t look at me, his eyes locked on the road. But I can see the tightness in his jaw, the way his knuckles are white on the wheel. His body is rigid, coiled like a spring, ready for whatever might come. I can feel his thoughts, even if he doesn’t speak them.
What are we going to find?
The question weighs on both of us, though neither of us dares to ask it. What could be waiting for us out there? A broken man? A trap?
Or worse.
A dead man?
In the backseat, a black bag sits open, its zipper hanging loosely as if it’s waiting for something to be taken out.
I don’t need to look inside to know what’s there.
Guns, a first aid kit, all the things you’d need to keep someone alive, and also the things you’d need to cage them or, if necessary, end them.
I let out a quiet breath, gripping the edge of my seat.
The car continues to eat up the distance, the hum of the tires on the asphalt the only sound in the car, broken only by the occasional crackle from the radio that Dominik hasn’t bothered to turn off.
The atmosphere is thick with unspoken words.
It’s going to be early morning by the time we arrive, but the world will still be dark. Dark like the unknown. Dark like whatever we’re about to face.
Hope.
Dread.
Grief.
Adrenaline.
Love.
It all lives inside of me, begging to be felt all at once.
“Do you think he’s still alive?” I ask, the words escaping before I can stop them.
Dominik doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, his eyes fixed on the road.
His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something in his eyes, a reflection of the same fear that’s wrapped itself around my chest. Fear for what we’ll find.
Fear for what it might mean. Fear for him, for me, for all of us.
Instead of a nod or a shake of his head, he reaches across the console, offering me one of his hands. His fingers brush mine with an unspoken understanding, a silent promise. His grip tightens, just for a moment, and I feel it deep in my bones—he is scared too.