Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Alex
The restaurant is warm and inviting with low-hung lights, and the atmosphere is casual with the hum of conversation all around.
It's the kind of place that's more tavern than fine dining.
Rose sits beside me, and the conversation turns toward Callie and Denver as they slip into full planning mode for the sunset five-mile race benefiting the animal shelter.
They went with the name Sole Mates, and when they told Rose and me, we looked at one another with a knowing glint in our eyes, thinking how it was the perfect race for us.
Whenever the shelter comes up, something in her changes.
She gets so focused, her eyes brightening as she throws herself into the conversation as though nothing else in the room exists.
“So, we’re locking it in as sunset,” Callie states, scrolling through her phone. “Golden hour shots will be insane for socials.”
“Yeah,” Rose says, nodding her agreement. “Registration will begin between three and four p.m. That gives people time to settle in and grab their bib before the race starts at five p.m.”
Denver leans back in his chair. “And the trail’s good? No one’s going to eat it on the roots for that little part that deviates from the pavement for half a mile?”
Rose smiles. “It’s been cleared. Mostly just a stretch of gravel with a few wooded turns before it joins the road again. It actually looks really nice at dusk. There are just a couple of old cabins along that way. Nothing more.”
Her phone buzzes on the table. She glances at it for just a second before she quickly flips it back over.
“And the beer tent?” I ask, keeping things moving down the checklist we needed to complete before dinner gets here.
“Still happening,” she says. “Local brewery’s donating a few kegs. It’ll be set up near the finish line.”
Denver grins. “Now that’s how you get a turnout.”
“And the lights?” Callie adds.
Rose nods. “We’re lining the clearing with them. Nothing too bright. It’s just enough once the sun starts going down. I want it to feel cozy.”
“A cozy five mile race?” Denver repeats, but his voice echoes a laugh.
Callie taps her screen. “I’ll push another round of posts tomorrow. Countdown, route preview, maybe highlight the shelter dogs?”
“That would be perfect,” Rose says. Then she adds, looking over at me, “Vic’s family is coming up, too. Spring break week with no school. They said they’d help out with volunteering. Just put them to work wherever you need.”
“That’s huge,” Denver says, looking over at Alex. “Thanks, bro.”
“It was Rose who threatened them. My dad would do anything for her. Just had to ask.” Rose smiles at me, her eyes sparkling, while my mind immediately wanders to all the ways she could repay me later.
Rose nods. “Yeah, and campus will be mostly closed, so it’ll be just us and whoever shows up to the event. Less traffic, fewer distractions.”
Callie glances up. “Honestly, that’s kind of perfect for photos.”
“Yeah,” Denver adds. “Feels more…authentic, showing the quaint little New England town that isn’t so flooded with students when the school is in session. Just the locals.”
Rose smiles faintly. “Exactly.” Her phone buzzes again. She doesn’t look at it this time, though. It rests facedown. I look at it and frown, then look back up at her again.
“And the band?” she asks, avoiding my stare and redirecting.
“Confirmed,” Callie says. “Irish folk group.”
Denver nods. “People will stick around for that.”
Rose’s phone buzzes again with its third message. She exhales softly, pushing her chair back. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” she says, already grabbing her bag.
I nod, watching her disappear toward the hallway.
Callie and Denver fall into a conversation amongst themselves about turnout numbers and sponsorships.
I only half-listen, my attention drifting.
When I see her phone light up again, I can’t help it.
It’s right there. I tell myself I don’t mean to look, but I do.
Chelsea: What time are you getting there?
Chelsea: I want everything to be perfect for you.
Chelsea: Maxwell and Lucinda are going to be there, too.
Chelsea: Glad you took my advice about the woods.
Something about it doesn't sit right with me, but the screen goes dark before I can think much more about it.
Why is Maxwell going to be there? I don't get it.
After the hospital, I picked Rose up, and she told me everything about how Lucinda apologized and how she couldn't be friends with them anymore.
So why is Chelsea so set on bringing them all together?
She needs to stop trying to fix things. It's too much, and I don't want Rose anywhere near Maxwell's father.
Not after everything my dad warned us about him and how dangerous he is.
Still, one text lingers in the back of my mind.
Glad you took my advice about the woods.
I can't explain why it bothers me, only that it does.
Maybe it's because the race cuts through an isolated stretch of trail.
Maybe it's because my father spent the last week warning us about monsters who hide in plain sight.
I glance toward the hallway, but Denver asks me a question, and I get distracted. Another few minutes pass, and Rose still isn’t back yet. I move in my seat, restlessness overcoming my legs, and I stand abruptly.
“I’ll be right back,” I mutter, startling Callie and Denver, and walking away before either of them can ask.
The hallway is quieter, the noise of the restaurant fading behind me.
This section is usually reserved for private parties and events.
As I head down the stairs, I spot Rose almost immediately. She’s not alone.
Dr. Somersworth stands in front of her, too close for a casual conversation.
His posture is relaxed, but there’s something in the way he’s angled toward her that blocks her from view.
He’s not touching her, but stands there close enough that she can’t easily move past him without making it obvious.
Rose's shoulders tighten, and her hands clasp together in front of her.
She holds herself perfectly still, as though moving would only make things worse.
I slow, instinct taking over, pulling me back into the shadows before either of them can see me. He’s speaking low and in a controlled, predatory voice. I can’t make out every word, but I catch enough that it makes the blood shoot to my head, making it throb with anger.
“You’ve been doing well,” he’s saying.
Rose nods. “I’m trying.”
“I know.” His gaze lingers on her as he leans forward, inhaling slowly. There’s a pause before he leans back again, studying her, head tilting slightly. “There’s something about you,” he says. “You stand out,” he continues, “even when you don’t mean to.”
My breathing picks up.
Rose lets out a small, uncertain laugh as his beady eyes roam over her body. His gaze drifts slowly and deliberately.
“Some people are just that way. They move through spaces thinking they blend in…” Another pause. “But they don’t.”
Rose tries to move away, but it’s a feeble attempt. “I just try to focus on my work,” she says.
“I’m sure you do.” His voice softens, but it isn’t kind. “It’s interesting, though,” he adds. “How quickly people can disappear from these same spaces.”
He allows the words to hang in the suffocating air between us as I try to still the rising panic.
Rose stills. “I’m sorry?”
“Transfer. Drop out. Step away,” he says smoothly, like he’s correcting himself. “It happens all the time and more often than you think.”
The words steal the air from my lungs. He’s threatening her, and if I had any doubt about my father’s warnings over winter break, it vanishes with the next words out of his mouth.
“They’re there one moment,” he continues with a lower, vicious voice meant to scare, “and then, they’re not.” The silence stretches.
Rose’s voice is smaller when she speaks. “I hadn’t noticed that.” But the meaning is the exact opposite, and I think it startles him. His eyes widen in surprise, but Rose refuses to back down.
“Given the right circumstances,” he continues, his voice harsher with each pronunciation of the threat.
Rose swallows, but she continues the brave act. “I don’t really know what you’re trying to say. You should be a little clearer, Dr. Somersworth.” Her eyes burn with hatred, and in that moment, she’s never looked more fierce.
“I’m saying,” he replies, “that you should be careful assuming you understand the situation you’re in or the environment.” Another step closer now. “People get comfortable,” he adds. “They think they’re accounted for. That someone would notice if they went missing.”
Rose nods quickly, taking in his implied meaning.
“But that isn’t always the case.” He studies her for a moment longer, his expression one of pure professionalism, as if he hadn’t been threatening her disappearance a moment ago.
He takes a step back, at last giving her space, and walks away.
He turns and walks straight toward me. I don’t move this time. I step out of the shadows.
“Dr. Somersworth.” He slows, his beady eyes sweep over me. For a second, he can’t place me. Then it clicks.
“Mr. Flores,” he says smoothly.
I nod once. “Dean’s office with Rose,” I add, in case he needs the reminder, but he doesn’t. He knows my name. It must’ve come up before.
“Of course,” he replies dryly, and I know it’s something he hasn’t forgotten for a second.
I press back into the wall as he passes, keeping out of his way. I casually add, “I spoke to my father about you.”
That gets his attention. His gaze sharpens with his full attention on me, trying to get what I’m playing at. “Did you?” he says, coolly.
“Yeah,” I say. “Fellow doctor. Thought you might remember him from your graduating class.”
For a second, I see him look me over, trying to place me, maybe where he knows me. Then recognition. Maybe I’d describe it even as hesitation, before his voice smooths over asking, “And who would your father be?”
“Dr. Victor Flores.”
His expression stills. He’s still controlled, but there’s a subtlety in the way the set of his shoulders tenses and the tic in his jaw.
“Of course,” he says after a moment. “I do know him. A good surgeon.” There’s something in his words that makes me believe him, but it’s the faintest hint of a smile that touches his mouth that tells me otherwise.
“Small world.” He gives me a short nod before stepping past me and continuing down the hall.
I turn back to Rose. She hasn’t moved much. She’s still standing where he left her, shoulders tight and drawn up protectively.
“Hey,” I say, my voice softening. It always does when it comes to her.
Her eyes lift to mine. There’s worry in them.
“You okay?”
She nods, too fast. “Yeah. I’m fine,” she says quickly, no matter if she really is or not.
I choose not to push it, especially not here, when all I want to do is get out of here.
Instead, I step closer, sliding an arm around her and pulling her into me without thinking.
She lets me. In fact, she melts into it, needing something solid against her.
The weight of what just happened crushes her.
“Come on,” she says after a second, her voice lighter now. “They’re probably wondering where we went.”
We head back upstairs and into the crowded restaurant together. Callie looks up first. “There you guys are,” she says. “We thought you disappeared on us.”
Rose laughs like nothing is wrong. “We just got held up.”
Denver raises a brow but doesn’t question it. “We were just wrapping up anyway.
Chairs scrape against the floor as we stand, pulling on our jackets before stepping out into the cold. We say our goodbyes, making plans to see each other again at the fundraiser.
Outside, the air is colder as Rose steps into me without thinking, and I wrap my arms around her again, pulling her even closer this time. She exhales against my chest, her hand finding my jacket and pressing herself into it.
“Ready?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah.”
She doesn’t pull away immediately, and I’m in no hurry to let her go. When we finally start toward my car, I keep her close, unable to shake the feeling that something is trying to take her from me. I won’t let it.