Chapter 3 #2
I sit there with my hands folded in my lap, staring at the candle between us, wishing I’d just listened to my gut and stayed home with my wine and my book.
The server comes back, sets the receipt down, and Grant signs it quickly, already pushing his chair back.
“Ready?” he says, like we didn’t just cut the night short.
“Yeah,” I murmur, standing and slipping my purse over my shoulder.
Outside, the night air is cooler, and the noise of the city rushes back in around us.
The valet is already pulling Grant’s car up to the curb, and his hand settles at the small of my back as we walk, steady and warm, like he’s trying to guide me, or maybe trying to keep the night from slipping away completely.
“Hey,” he says quietly, slowing a little so I have to look at him. “If I came on too strong in there, that’s on me.”
I blink, surprised.
“I don’t usually get nervous,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that finally feels less polished and more… real. “But I haven’t been on an actual date in a while, and when I get talking about work, I forget to shut up.”
His thumb brushes my back, almost absentminded.
“I really do like you, Brooke. I’d like to spend more time together.
Actually get to know you.” Something in my chest softens, just a little.
“I know I talked way too much about myself,” he adds, giving a small, self-aware huff. “That wasn’t fair to you.”
The valet pulls up, and Grant thanks him, slipping him cash before opening my door.
For a second, standing there under the glow of streetlights with his hand still at my back and that sincere look on his face, I wonder if maybe I judged him too fast. Maybe he’s just awkward and intense and not great at first impressions.
Maybe he’s just nervous, like he said. “It’s okay,” I say, wanting to believe him. “First dates are weird.”
His smile returns. “Yeah. They really are.”
He closes my door and walks around to the driver’s side, and as we pull away from the curb, I try to relax, telling myself that this is probably just the part where things even out and the night ends on a better note.
The ride back is quiet, but not in a tense way at first. More like… thoughtful. Streetlights blur past, and I keep glancing at my phone in my purse, wishing I’d texted Bella anyway, but also telling myself I don’t need rescuing from a slightly awkward date.
For a few minutes, it almost feels normal. Then he turns down a darker road instead of heading toward my neighborhood.
“Where are we going?” I ask, pulse spiking.
“Just somewhere private,” he says. “We barely got to know each other tonight.”
“I said I was tired, Grant. I just want to go home.”
He pulls into a secluded overlook and parks, then turns toward me and kisses me without warning, hard and demanding, nothing like the flirty confidence from earlier.
I pull back. “Grant, stop.”
His hand slides up my thigh. “Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with me all night.”
“Get your hand off me.”
He doesn’t. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s go back to my place. We’ll really get to know each other.”
“No,” I say, louder now, heart hammering. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His face changes, anger flashing across it fast and ugly. “Don’t be a tease,” he snaps.
“I am not teasing you, I am saying no.”
He grabs my face and kisses me again, rougher this time, like he’s done pretending, and when I shove at his chest, trying to put space between us, his hand swings out and cracks across my cheek.
Not hard enough to knock me out.
Hard enough to make the world tilt and go cold.
Shock slams through me, sharp and bright, and for a second I can’t even breathe.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I gasp.
He’s already leaning back in, fingers digging into my jaw. “Don’t fight me,” he snaps. “You’ve been giving me looks all night, flirting, letting me buy you dinner, and now you wanna act like you didn’t want this?”
“I said no,” I choke out, trying to twist away.
He laughs, short and ugly. “Don’t play innocent now. You don’t dress like that and get in my car if you don’t want something.”
My heart is slamming so hard I can hear it in my ears. “Let me go.”
“Stop acting like a bitch,” he growls. “You knew what you were doing. You wanted my attention, you wanted the date, you wanted me.”
“That’s not true,” I say, voice shaking. “You don’t get to touch me just because I went out with you.”
He shoves me back against the seat. “Don’t act like a whore and then pretend you’ve got standards.”
Something in me snaps, clean and violent and loud in my head.
My hands are shaking as I dig into my purse, and I don’t even think, I just grab the taser I keep clipped inside and jam it into his side and press.
He yells, jerking back, swearing, and that’s all the chance I need.
I fumble for the door, shove it open, and bolt, my heels slipping off as I kick them away and run barefoot into the dark, not daring to look back.
He yells, a sharp, furious sound that cuts through the night, and jerks back in his seat, one hand flying to his side as he swears.
That’s all I need.
I shove the door open and scramble out of the car, my heels slipping off as soon as my feet hit the gravel. I don’t even think about them. I just run.
My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to break out of my chest, and my cheek is on fire where he hit me, hot and stinging and already starting to throb.
The cold night air bites at my skin, and I realize too late that my dress is thin and not meant for this, not meant for running through the dark and the dirt with nothing but adrenaline keeping me upright.
My bare feet hit rocks, then dirt, then something softer as I veer off the paved overlook and into the trees.
The woods.
Branches scrape at my arms and legs, and my dress catches on something sharp, fabric tugging hard enough that I almost trip. I yank myself free and keep going, lungs burning, breath coming out in harsh, panicked gasps I can’t control.
Behind me, I hear him.
“Brooke!” he shouts, his voice carrying through the trees. “You stupid bitch, get back here!”
I flinch at the sound of my name in his mouth, but I don’t slow down. I can’t. My feet are screaming now, every step sending pain shooting up my legs, but fear is louder than everything else.
I duck behind a thick cluster of trees and stumble down a small slope, sliding on loose dirt and leaves before I catch myself on a trunk and crouch low, pressing my back against the rough bark.
My whole body is shaking.
I clamp a hand over my mouth, trying to quiet my breathing, trying not to sob, because I know if he hears me, I’m done.
Somewhere behind me, I hear a car door slam.
Then footsteps.
Heavy. Fast. Angry.
“Brooke!” he yells again, closer now. “You think you can just run from me?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, heart slamming so hard I swear it has to be echoing through the trees. My cheek throbs, my feet ache, and the cold is seeping through my skin, settling deep in my bones.
I stay still.
I don’t move.
I don’t breathe.
Leaves crunch as he stomps through the woods, swearing, calling my name, cursing like he’s hunting something instead of someone. I can hear him breathing hard, hear the frustration in every step, and I’m so scared my vision starts to blur at the edges.
Please don’t find me.
Please don’t find me.
Then, suddenly, the footsteps stop.
There’s silence for a long, terrifying second.
And then I hear him again, farther away this time, crashing back through the brush toward the overlook.
Another door slams.
An engine turns over.
I stay frozen, forcing myself not to move, not to panic.
Nothing but the sound of wind in the trees and my own ragged breathing.
I finally let myself pull in a shaky breath, but I still don’t move.
When I don’t hear the engine anymore, when the night settles into that quiet, empty stillness, I finally reach into my purse with trembling hands and pull out my phone.
The screen lights up, too bright in the dark, and I fumble to turn the brightness down, terrified it’ll give me away even though I know he’s probably gone.
My hands are shaking so badly it takes me three tries to unlock it. I don’t even think about who to call. I just hit his name. It rings once. Twice.
“Princess?” Rev’s voice comes through the line, already sharp, already wrong in that way that means he knows something is bad. “What’s wrong?”
My chest caves in, and the sob finally breaks free. “Rev,” I whisper brokenly, trying to keep my voice down even though I’m pretty sure I’m alone. “Rev, I need you. He… he hurt me, and I ran.”
“Where are you,” he says, and his voice goes deadly calm, the kind that makes my knees feel weak with relief. “Baby, I need you to tell me where you are.”
“I…I don’t know,” I choke out. “There were trees and…I ran into the woods and I think he left but I’m scared he might still be here.”
“Princess, listen to me,” he says, slow and steady. “I’m on my way. I need you to send me your location, and then I need you to stay where you are, you hear me?”
I fumble with my phone again, tears blurring the screen, and hit share. When I hear the confirmation tone, another sob tears out of me.
“I sent it,” I whisper. “I’m cold and my face hurts and I don’t have my shoes.”
“I’m coming,” he growls, and there’s no doubt in his voice, no hesitation at all. “Don’t move. I’m gonna find you, and I swear to God, you are not alone right now.”
“I’m so scared,” I whisper.
“I got you, Princess,” he says, fierce and certain. “I got you. Just stay with me on the phone.”
I curl in tighter against the tree, clutching my phone to my chest like it’s the only thing keeping me breathing. Rev is coming.