Chapter Two Forced Partners, Open Wounds #5
“You’re right.”
Makayla blinked.
That was the last answer she expected.
Jarvis continued, “I don’t understand your side the way I thought I did.”
Her anger stumbled.
He stepped closer, but slowly this time.
“My father owned rooms where women learned to stay quiet,” he said. “I spent years making sure my rooms didn’t carry his smell. Then your post told the whole city I became him.”
Makayla’s chest tightened.
Jarvis’s face stayed controlled, but his voice changed. It lowered into something rougher.
“I wanted to destroy you when I found out who you were.”
“And now?”
His eyes moved across her face. “Now I want to know who aimed you.”
That answer should have comforted her more than it did.
Maybe because a small, dangerous part of her wanted him to say something else.
Makayla looked away first. “We go to Obsidian Hall tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going inside.”
“We’ll discuss that.”
“No. We just did.”
Jarvis’s eyes sharpened again. “You always push this hard?”
“You always stand in the way?”
“When the road is stupid, yes.”
Makayla stepped around him. “Then move before you get run over.”
She went back into the office and opened her laptop again because she needed something to do with her hands.
An email notification popped up in the Dirty Little Proof inbox.
No sender name.
Subject line:
FOR MAKAYLA ONLY
Her skin chilled.
Jarvis saw her freeze. “What?”
She clicked the email before answering.
There was no message body.
Only one attachment.
A video file.
AMIRA_STORAGE_ROOM_OLD.mp4
Makayla stopped breathing.
Jarvis moved to her side. “Don’t open it.”
Makayla’s hand trembled over the trackpad.
“Makayla,” he said, firmer. “Don’t.”
But the file was right there.
A ghost from the worst night of her family’s life.
Proof that had supposedly disappeared years ago.
Proof that could clear Amira’s name.
Proof that could break her all over again.
Makayla clicked download.
Jarvis cursed under his breath and reached past her to shut the laptop.
She slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch it.”
“It could be malware.”
“It could be proof.”
“It could be bait.”
“It is bait!” she snapped. “But it has her name on it!”
Her voice cracked.
The sound embarrassed her.
Jarvis froze.
Makayla stared at the screen as the download bar filled.
Ten percent.
Thirty.
Sixty.
The room felt like it had no air.
Then the download finished.
Before she could open it, her phone buzzed.
Another message.
Play it and remember why you started.
A second message came right after.
Then ask Jarvis what he did to the last woman who trusted him.
Makayla slowly looked up at Jarvis.
His face had gone dark.
“What woman?” she asked.
Jarvis said nothing.
Makayla’s heart pounded.
“Jarvis.”
He looked at the video file on her screen, then back at her.
“We need to talk about Calia,” he said.
Makayla gave a cold little laugh.
“I knew it.”
“This is what they want.”
“No, this is what you avoided.”
He stepped closer. “Open that file now and you hand them control.”
“They already have control.”
“Only if you react.”
Makayla stood, chest heaving. “I am tired of everybody telling me how to feel about my own pain.”
Jarvis’s expression softened around the edges, but his voice stayed firm.
“Then don’t feel less,” he said. “Move smarter.”
Those words landed deep.
Makayla hated him for that too.
Because he was right again.
She looked at the laptop. The file waited there, heavy as a loaded gun.
Her hand moved to the mouse.
Then stopped.
Jarvis watched her.
Makayla closed the laptop herself.
The click sounded louder than it should have.
“I’ll open it after Trevon checks it,” she said.
Jarvis gave one slow nod.
Outside the glass wall, the empty lounge sat dark beneath them. Somewhere below, a guard spoke softly into a radio. In the east lounge, Auntie Zella laughed at the television again, unaware that Amira’s name had just walked into the room like a ghost.
Makayla sank into the chair, drained to the bone.
Jarvis stood beside her, close but quiet.
For once, the silence between them did not feel like a fight.
It felt like both of them staring at the same loaded door.
Makayla looked up at him. “I still hate you.”
Jarvis’s mouth curved slightly. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Hate keeps you awake.”
“And what keeps you awake?”
His eyes held hers.
For a second, the office, the danger, the post, even the ghost of Amira’s video faded into the heat of that look.
Then Jarvis said, “Right now?”
Makayla’s pulse jumped.
“You.”
The word was quiet.
Too quiet.
Makayla looked away first, but the damage had already been done.
Because when her phone buzzed again, she did not jump from fear alone.
She jumped because Jarvis was still close enough for his sleeve to brush her arm.
This time, the message had no threat.
Only a location.
Obsidian Hall. Noon. Bring the girl with the mouth.
Makayla turned the phone toward Jarvis.
His eyes sharpened.
Then he smiled that small, dangerous smile she already hated too much.
“Looks like you got invited.”
Makayla stood, fear and fire twisting together in her chest.
“Good,” she said. “I was coming anyway.”