Chapter 16
Raine
I don’t know what’s worse—the silence or the waiting.
A week has passed since that night, since I pulled the trigger and ended Dante Moreau’s life. Since I felt the weight of a gun in my hands and knew I wasn’t the same woman I was before.
A week since Emmett brought me here—to his house, his bed, his world—and I still don’t know if I belong in it.
Everything feels too still. Too quiet.
I should feel safe. For the first time in years, I should be able to breathe. Mia is finally free, settled in a small apartment near Asher’s estate, with a real job and a future that doesn’t include running.
I should be relieved. I should be happy.
I’m not.
Because I don’t know what happens next.
"You’re distracted," Emmett murmurs, studying me from across the room.
I glance up from where I’m absently tracing the rim of my coffee mug, forcing a smirk. "You’re imagining things, Calloway."
His gray eyes flicker with something unreadable before he leans back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Doubt it."
The air between us shifts. We haven’t talked about what happens now. What we are. What we aren’t.
The last seven days have been an unspoken routine—waking up tangled in his sheets, the heat of his body pressed against mine, his hands anchoring me to the moment. But when the morning comes, we fall back into an easy silence, like neither of us wants to ask the question hanging between us.
What now?
I should ask. But I don’t.
Because I’m scared of the answer.
Mia is happy here.
I see it when I visit her new place, a cozy little apartment with a view of the lake. She has a life now—one I never thought we’d have.
"You sure you don’t want to stay with me?" she asks, flopping onto her couch as I stand by the window, arms crossed.
I hesitate.
Mia sighs, pushing herself upright. "Raine."
"I just—" I swallow. "I don’t know if I can stay here."
"Because of Emmett?"
My throat tightens.
I don’t answer.
Mia leans forward, her voice softer now. "You love him."
I let out a short laugh. "That doesn’t mean anything."
Her brows knit together. "Of course it does.And I think he loves you too."
I force a bitter laugh. "Love? He hasn’t said a damn thing about love. He hasn’t given me one reason to think this is anything more than…"
"More than what?" Mia challenges.
I bite my lip. "Something temporary."
She sighs. "Raine, don’t do this."
I shake my head. "He hasn’t said it. We haven’t… talked about it."
Mia scoffs. "You really think a guy like Emmett Calloway is good at talking about his feelings?"
I don’t respond.
Because I don’t need words. I need certainty.
And Emmett hasn’t given me that.
The next morning, I make a decision.
I slip out of bed before dawn, moving quietly through the house.
The suitcase is already packed.
It’s sitting by the door, staring at me like it knows what I’m about to do. Like it’s daring me to go through with it.
I grip the strap tighter, inhaling sharply. It’s been a week since Dante died. Since I pulled the trigger. Since the chaos settled, leaving behind a silence I don’t know how to exist in.
I should feel safe now.
But I don’t.
I don’t trust this peace. It’s too quiet, too still, like the calm before a storm. And I know better than anyone that storms always come.
Mia is safe now. That’s what matters.
Asher helped her settle near his home, even got her a job through his connections. She’s going to be okay. And that means I can leave.
Because Emmett and I—whatever this is—has an expiration date.
He hasn’t asked me to stay.He hasn’t said he wants me here.And he sure as hell hasn’t said he loves me.
So what am I still doing here?
I’m not stupid. I know better than to stay too long in one place, to get comfortable, to think that this kind of peace is permanent. Because it never is.
I’m halfway to the door when his voice stops me.
"You leaving without saying goodbye?"
My spine locks up. My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag.
I turn slowly.
Emmett leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His voice is calm. His eyes aren’t.
I force a smirk. "Didn’t think you’d care."
He doesn’t react. Just watches me.
The weight of it presses down on my chest.
"You don’t have to go," he finally says.
I exhale, gripping the strap of my bag tighter. "And what, Emmett? Stay here? Be your—what, exactly?"
He doesn’t answer.
I nod once, looking away. That’s what I thought.
"I have to do this," I murmur.
For a second, he says nothing. Then, his voice drops. "You don’t have to run anymore."
I swallow. My fingers twitch.
I step back.
I swallow. "Didn’t think it mattered."
"It matters."
Then why aren’t you asking me to stay?
I wait for it.
For something.
But Emmett Calloway doesn’t beg.
And I don’t stay where I’m not wanted.
So I grip my suitcase and walk out the door.
Emmett’s jaw flexes, but he doesn’t stop me.
And it kills me.