Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Caroline
Noah walked me to my car, hand in mine, as if letting go for even a second would break the spell. We lingered by the door, faces close, trading soft kisses and laughing when we both tried to speak at once.
I didn’t want to leave. Not ever.
He tucked a curl behind my ear, looked at me like I was the only person on the planet. “Text me when you get home,” he said.
I nodded, heart pounding. “I will.”
A car door slammed somewhere in the lot. For a second, I thought nothing of it, but Noah’s whole body went tense.
A man approached—shorter than Noah, bulkier, with a face like he’d fought gravity and lost. He kept his voice low, but I heard the edge.
“Boss… Carter situation’s getting worse. He’s asking around. Lot of noise.”
Noah’s warmth vanished. He looked over the guy’s shoulder, scanning the lot, then back at the man. “I’ll handle it.”
The guy nodded, melted into the shadows, and I realized I’d missed something important.
“Everything okay?” I asked, voice small.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just business. Nothing you need to worry about.”
He kissed me one last time, more fiercely than before, and I felt his heartbeat racing.
I got in the car and drove off, watching in the rearview as he stood there, motionless, until I turned the corner.
Across the street, headlights flicked on. A black sedan pulled out of a space and followed me, slow and deliberate.
I didn’t notice until I reached my building. The car idled half a block away, lights off now, engine purring. I hurried inside, double-locked the door, and tried to shake the chill crawling up my spine.
What I didn’t know—what nobody told me—was that Richard was behind the wheel.
He watched me get out, watched me run to the door, watched the building swallow me whole.
He gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white.
He watched Noah too, saw the way he stood at the edge of the lot, jaw set, eyes on the darkness.
Richard knew that look. He’d worn it himself once, when he still believed he could control the future.
Now, he just wanted to destroy the past.
He slammed the dash, cursed loud enough to fog the glass, and made a vow right there in the silence of his car:
He’d get her back.
He’d make sure nobody—especially not some pretty-boy barista—took what was his.
Not without a fight.
Back upstairs, I sat on the couch, phone in hand, waiting for a text from Noah.
It came three minutes later: “Let me know if you ever feel unsafe.”
I started to type a reply, but stopped. The memory of his hands, his lips, his heat—all of it made me forget the world for a little while.
But somewhere outside, someone was still watching.
And I knew, without knowing how, that nothing about my life would ever be simple again.