Chapter 27
ISLA
My leg stretches across the cold bed, seeking Luke’s warmth. Instead, I find only the coolness of the sheets and a faint dip in the mattress. A thin blade of sunlight filters through the curtains, painting the room in hazy gold. I blink against it, heart sinking as I take in Luke’s absence.
The emptiness feels like it could swallow me whole. For one wild, traitorous second, my brain goes straight to the old nightmare that he’s gone again. That I woke up too late, that this second chance was just a cruel, vivid dream.
I take a deep breath and allow the fog to clear. New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, Massachusetts, Rhode Island…
By the time I reach the fifth colony, my momentary panic is abated.
Everything is fine. Luke is just working on the case in the other room.
The thought of warm banana pancakes drifts through my mind, sweet and comforting, and I wonder if we have the ingredients in the pantry. It sounds like the perfect excuse to coax Luke into the kitchen with me.
With that plan tugging me from bed, I head to the bathroom. After a brisk splash of cold water and brushing my teeth, I study my reflection. Pale skin, wary eyes, but determination lingering underneath. A woman ready to face another day in the middle of chaos.
Satisfied enough, I step out ready to wish Luke good morning. Instead of finding him in the kitchen, I freeze at the sight of Gabe pacing on the back deck, his shoulders stiff, his expression thunderous.
He’s on the phone, voice low but urgent, his free hand slicing the air as he gestures in agitation. My stomach tugs. If Gabe’s here this early, something’s wrong.
Assuming Luke must’ve run into work and asked Gabe to keep me company, I head into the kitchen. The familiar aroma of coffee steadies me, rich and grounding.
I pour two mugs: Gabe’s plain and black, mine softened with a swirl of cream that clouds and curls before settling into warm caramel. The simple ritual gives me courage.
I cradle the mugs carefully, padding toward the sliding glass door. But just before I step outside, snippets of Gabe’s conversation float through the cracked door.
“I could really use your help,” his voice grinds, taut with frustration. “The guy we’re looking for is a pro. No one in this small town is going to be able to stop him, especially now that Luke has confronted Nathaniel. I don’t know how deep this goes.”
The words freeze me in place. The mug slips from my hands before I can stop it, shattering on the hardwood. Ceramic fragments scatter like sharp little stars, hot coffee bleeding outward into dark, spreading stains.
Gabe’s voice cuts off. A beat later, the door slides open, and he bursts inside, eyes sharp and assessing. “Isla—are you alright?”
I grip the dining table edge, knuckles bone-white, trying to steady legs that tremble so hard they might give out. My pulse pounds against my ribs like a drum.
“No. Why did Luke go to his father’s house? Who are these people he’s chasing? You said ‘a pro.’ Tell me what’s happening!”
Gabe drags a hand through his hair, tugging hard at the roots as if the pain will clear his thoughts. His chest rises and falls in sharp heaves before he exhales, shoulders sagging.
“Isla, we’re still piecing it together. This is bigger than we thought.”
“Don’t do that,” I snap, jabbing a finger at him. “Don’t feed me half-truths. You said someone was a pro. What does that mean?”
His jaw flexes, lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s best if you don’t know.”
Anger detonates inside me. I surge forward and pound a fist against his chest, solid and unmoving like stone. “You need to tell me. I’m part of this, too! You let Luke walk into this alone!”
Gabe doesn’t flinch or try to stop me. He stands like a statue while I empty all my anger and fear into the space between us. When I finally run out of breath, I step back and look up at him, desperate for answers. The air saws in and out of my lungs.
Finally, his expression cracks. His voice comes low and gravelly, heavy with the weight of truths he doesn’t want to share.
“Isla…last night we got a fingerprint match from your crime scene. It belongs to someone known only as Ares.”
He swallows. “He’s a contract killer. Ruthless. He’s committed every kind of evil act you can think of. Murder, torture, disappearances. There’s no line he won’t cross.”
A shiver crawls up my spine. The air feels colder suddenly, pressing against my skin. “So, Luke went after him?”
Gabe shakes his head firmly. “No. Luke went to talk to his father. We suspect Nathaniel may be linked to Ares, but we aren’t sure how yet.”
The floor tilts beneath me.
“There’s something else,” Gabe says soberly.
“I broke into Nathaniel’s phone early this morning,” he admits, voice flat with exhaustion.
“There were two numbers in there. One we still can’t trace. The other…” His eyes meet mine, pained. “…was yours.”
My knees buckle, and I stumble toward the couch. Gabe lunges forward, catching me by the elbow, lowering me gently onto the cushions as the room spins.
“Nathaniel Wild sent me that text?” The whisper creaks from my throat like old wood splitting.
“He did.”
I clutch at my temples, rocking forward. “What about when I was a kid? The fire…did he set that too? Why? Why would he do that?”
Haunted shadows cross Gabe’s face. “It appears he had a hand in it. That’s why Luke went to confront him. I begged him to wait, but he wouldn’t listen. He made me promise to stay here and keep you safe.”
My voice cracks into a near scream. “But who’s keeping him safe?”
Gabe scrubs his stubbled jaw, eyes dark, his whole body tense as if restraining himself from smashing something. “That’s why I called a couple of old friends. Guys I served with. They’re contractors now. They’ll be in town within the hour.”
My pulse races faster. “We have to find Luke. He went to his parents’ house, right? We can drive over there—”
“No.” Gabe’s voice is iron, sharp as steel. “Luke made me promise to keep you away from Nathaniel at all costs. For reasons we still don’t fully understand, the guy’s got it out for you.”
My heart clenches painfully. Nathaniel had always been distant, but never openly cruel. Never the monster Gabe paints now.
My brain rebels against it, replaying memories. His ire was evident to Luke through disapproving looks and clipped remarks, but I never once suspected him of anything like this.
“I can’t believe this,” I whisper, pressing palms against my skull. “He never gave a single hint.”
“There’s a lot we don’t know about Nathaniel Wild. But right now, the priority is keeping you safe until Luke checks in.”
The words grate like sandpaper. “Do you think he’s okay?”
Gabe steps forward, gaze steady, voice low but sure. “I do. His top priority is your safety. He’ll fight his way back to you no matter what.”
His stance widens, arms folding across his chest like a barricade. “So, we wait.”
I deflate, shoulders sagging. The idea of waiting, of being passive while Luke puts himself in danger, gnaws at me until I can’t breathe. “Fine. I’ll get dressed.”
As I make my way down the hall, I hear Gabe slip out the back door again, probably to finish his phone call.
In the bedroom, I inhale deeply, trying to steady myself with the faint comfort of fabric softener and Luke’s cologne clinging to the sheets.
My jeans and faded gray T-shirt lie draped over a chair.
My fingers tremble as I pull them on, the cotton no barrier against the cold dread coiling low in my stomach.
I can’t just sit here.
Or…should I?
The thought hits like a slap. If I stay put, Luke knows where I am.
If I leave, I become unpredictable—easy to lose, easier to target.
But doing nothing feels like surrender, and doing something feels like lighting a match in a room full of gasoline.
The pressure makes my chest tighten until every breath feels like a betrayal.
This is all because of me. If I’d never come back, Luke wouldn’t be bleeding for my ghosts. He wouldn’t be out there hunting a man who might be hunting him. Every consequence loops back to the same unbearable truth: I’m the reason he’s in danger.
My hands press against my thighs, trying to stop the shaking. I don’t know what I can do, but I can’t sit here. I won’t.
Maybe I could help search for Nathaniel? Maybe I could find him first, try to reason with him?
I could leave. I’ve done it before. I could promise him I’ll go, and this time I won’t break it, not for anything. If disappearing keeps Luke alive, I’ll do it. I’ll become a ghost again.
My nails dig into my palms. It would destroy me to walk away from Luke. But his life is worth my heart.
I close my eyes, shaking, the truth slicing clean through the chaos: no matter what I decide, someone gets hurt. And it isn’t going to be Luke.
I slip into the bathroom and twist the shower handle. Water rushes into the tub, the hiss filling the room. If Gabe is listening, it sounds like I’m following the routine.
I cross towards the small window opposite the tub. It overlooks a dense forest; the drop isn’t far—just a short leap into pine needles and dirt.
My breath hitches as I shove the window upward, the frame groaning in protest. For a heartbeat, I hesitate, imagining Luke’s disappointment if he knew I was disobeying him. But then I imagine him facing Nathaniel alone.
That decides it.
Cold air knifes up under my shirt as I swing my legs over the sill. The drop isn’t far, but my stomach still lurches when my feet hit the forest floor, needles crunching underfoot. For one breathless second, I just crouch there, lungs burning, listening for Gabe’s shout that never comes.
At the property’s edge, I glance back once, expecting to see him bursting out, fury in his eyes. But the cabin remains still, deceptively peaceful. Relief flickers through me.
My car sits half-hidden among the trees. I slide inside, the worn seat familiar against me, and turn the key. The old engine rumbles softly to life. For once, its quiet hum is a blessing. I ease down the gravel drive and turn onto the main road.
The climb toward the Wild estate is winding and treacherous, the mountain road snaking upward with hairpin turns and no guardrails. My knuckles whiten around the wheel. Fear tries to shove into the driver’s seat beside me, but I fight it back with focus.
About a mile from the house, a black car creeps closer, hugging my bumper. My pulse spikes.
It’s not the same car as before, but its behavior is wrong. Too close. Too controlled.
I tighten my grip. The road is too narrow, too dangerous to pull over. My chest constricts as the car presses closer still.
Then it slams into me.
The impact jolts me forward with bone-rattling force. A scream tears from my throat. My tires squeal against asphalt, swerving. I correct, barely.
The car falls back—only to surge again, ramming harder. My head snaps back, seatbelt biting into my shoulder.
“God, no, no—”
Another strike. My car veers. The mountain edge looms.
One final hit sends me spinning. My tires shriek. The world spins, sky and earth trading places. Branches claw, rocks shatter, glass explodes. Then—darkness.
When awareness returns, agony floods me. My ribs scream with pain as sticky blood trickles hot along my temple.
Darkness surrounds me. No, not darkness. Enclosure. I’m curled tight, air stifling, space claustrophobic. A faint rumble vibrates beneath me.
Horror grips me as I realize the truth. I’m in a trunk.
Memory crashes back of the black car. The deliberate ramming. I must’ve been dragged from the wreck, shoved into this moving coffin.
Panic claws at my chest. I thrash, fingers scraping over smooth metal walls, searching desperately for a latch. Nothing. Modern cars don’t make escaping easy. No taillights to kick free, no seams wide enough to pry open.
Hot tears blur my vision. My mind dredges up crime shows and survival tips, all of which are useless here.
This has to be Ares.
The name pounds like a drumbeat in my skull. If he has me, then Nathaniel must have ordered it. My blood chills.
But despair can’t win. Luke’s face rises in my mind—his fierce eyes, his whispered promises. I cling to him like a lifeline. I refuse to die here.
Time loses meaning until the car jolts, slowing. Gravel crunches beneath the tires. My heart sprints. He’s pulling over.
I coil tight, ready to explode upward the second that trunk opens. My weapons are pitiful—nails, fists, teeth—but they’re mine.
The car stops. A door slams. Footsteps crunch closer.
Click. The latch.
The trunk groans open, sunlight flooding in so bright it blinds me. A shadow eclipses it, looming.
My breath locks. My muscles tense. I crack my eyes open…and my lungs seize in terror.