Page 47

Unknown Man

H e watched them through the scope.

Close, but not too close.

The porch light bathed her in a golden glow. Her body relaxed in his arms—Cyclone. The soldier. The obstacle.

A flicker of something sharp curled behind his ribs.

Not jealousy.

Disappointment.

She was supposed to be different.

She was supposed to understand.

Instead, she had handed herself over. Let someone else carry the weight. Let someone else hold her.

I knew all about her husband and child. That was before I broke out of that rat hole of a prison they put me in. They thought I was crazy. Because I told them this woman belonged to me, and I was going to get her.

I watched Cyclone take the note from her hand.

Read it.

Feel its weight.

Good.

Let him know.

Let him see.

He was part of this now, whether he wanted to be or not.

But he wouldn’t be there when it ended.

No.

She had to come back to the silence.

To the mirror.

To the version of herself she left behind in that bunker.

That’s where he’d be waiting.

And when she finally looked at him again?

Really looked?

She’d remember who she was meant to be.

Who she was meant to be with .

And this time, she wouldn’t walk away.