Page 12

twelve

M y eyes snapped open, and a jolt of recognition tore through me like a lightning bolt. The world around me, once hazy, rushed into sharp focus: the towering trees, rustling leaves, the scent of damp earth. Everything felt real. Too real.

A tremor surged through me as the realization slammed into me. The man who had haunted my dreams, etched himself into my soul, was standing right here .

It was Zeke.

I could barely catch my breath, my mind scrambling to piece together what was happening. Zeke loomed over me, his face tight with worry, his eyes scanning me as if searching for something to reassure him I was alright.

“Bryn, are you okay?!” His voice cracked, raw with panic. “Are you hurt?!”

I couldn’t answer. I just stared. His hands moved fast, checking me over, alarm widening his eyes. “Bryn, baby, please—say something!” The desperation in his tone spiked. “You’re really scaring me.”

Finally, my body responded. I blinked hard, trying to push through the haze, lifting a hand to my aching scalp. But Zeke caught my wrist. His face went pale. His eyes locked on the blood.

“Oh no…” he breathed. His grip loosened, and he rushed to his backpack.

He moved quickly, pulling out a first aid kit with calm, practiced hands. I watched him, frozen, even as terror coiled deep inside me.

He eased me up and guided me against the tree. Then, with gentle fingers, he uncapped a water bottle and poured a steady stream over the wound. The sting bit deep, and I flinched.

“Sorry,” he murmured, the tight set of his jaw betraying more pain than his voice. He dabbed at the gash, steady and efficient. “You’ve definitely cut it up pretty good. ”

His tone was quiet, but it didn’t calm the storm in my gut. Still, I tried to focus on him, the rhythm of his movements and the quiet way he moved through each step.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he said. “It’s a nasty cut, but nothing we can’t handle.” He applied cream and began to bandage the wound, each pass of the gauze confident, careful. “There. Good as new.” A trace of a smile ghosted across his face.

But I wasn’t looking at the bandages.

I was watching him.

In that instant, something snapped inside me, as though the fog of shock had ebbed away, and I could finally find my voice. “Why have I dreamed of you?” My words came out broken. “Before we ever met…I dreamed of you. How is that possible?”

Zeke’s eyes widened. For a fleeting moment, something flickered, worry maybe, or disbelief. Then it vanished behind a calm facade.

His gaze leveled. Something in his eyes shifted, guarded, like he was weighing his next move carefully.

“Did you already know who I was that day in the diner?” The question tumbled out. “The first time we met—when you were late for your meeting?”

We stared at each other. The forest felt tighter somehow, the hush around us broken only by the soft stirring of the leaves .

He stood motionless, a stone statue in the storm I was creating. The quiet grew dense, suffocating, like a living thing that swallowed the air. My heart pounded against my ribs as the words tore their way from my throat.

“What am I missing, Zeke?” I spat. “If that’s even your real name!” My voice cracked with fury, tight with fear and accusation.

His eyes dimmed, but not with regret. That look—pity—burned worse than anger.

“Brynlynn, please,” he said gently, like he was trying to calm a trapped animal. “Everything is going to be okay.” He reached for me, the gesture so false it made my skin crawl.

I rose to my feet, my legs shaky, trembling with the electric pulse of rage. My blood boiled with the urge to lash out. But as I moved toward him, something in my core recoiled, primal and instinctive, pushing me back.

No. I don’t trust you anymore.

The truth slammed into me. It wasn’t just his presence that unsettled me. It was everything. Reggie’s fingerprints were all over this. Zeke’s appearance in my life wasn’t a coincidence.

Reggie had planned it. To watch me. To control me. To track every move I made. Or worse …to silence me if I got too close to whatever he was hiding. He was more than capable of that.

How long? How long had he been following me? Weeks? Months? Years ?

I’d suspected Zeke once, thought he was dangerous, maybe even sent after Sal. But now, seeing the full picture, that theory felt na?ve. Desperate. Pathetic.

My stomach twisted as the revelation took hold. His eyes had always been on me. And I’d been blind, entangled in the illusion of friendship while the real threat stood right in front of me.

And those dreams…those dreams of him searching for me, calling my name. They weren’t just dreams; they were warnings. My subconscious had been trying to tell me that someone—he—was always watching.

“Did you know who I was that day?!” I shouted, my voice splintering the fragile silence.

The words hung in the air, suspended in tension. For a moment, just a flicker, Zeke’s eyes shifted. There was a hesitation, almost imperceptible, before his gaze fell. It was as if he were deciding whether to lie. Then, with a resigned sigh, he spoke. The single word that left his lips made my stomach drop.

“Yes.”

He’d known who I was the entire time. Every moment we’d shared, the laughter, the conversations, the touch of his hand. All of it had been a lie. I had trusted him. I had let him in, believed he was my friend. But in reality, he was the puppet master, pulling strings from behind the scenes, lurking just out of sight .

Tears welled in my eyes, but I tried to hide them. I turned away, pressing my hand to my face as if I could hold the betrayal in.

“I thought you were my friend,” I whispered, my voice cracking with the gravity of that revelation. The words felt fragile, breaking apart like glass.

Zeke’s expression faltered, shifting into something unreadable. Remorse? Maybe. But the guilt was buried, hidden behind something else. He stepped closer, his voice soft with an odd mix of sorrow and defeat.

“I’ve wanted to be honest with you, Bryn,” he murmured, his tone low. “From the moment I found you…but I couldn’t take the chance.” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I needed to earn your trust first—to make you feel safe with me.”

I blinked, trying to make sense of what he’d said. My thoughts tangled, a storm of anger and disbelief.

“This wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” he admitted.

The air crackled with tension as I struggled to absorb it all.

“What do you mean, ‘found’ me?” I demanded, my voice sharp, dangerous. I stepped closer, fists clenched at my sides. “Were you hired to take me out, or are you just some creep with a twisted sense of fun?” The questions spilled out, frantic and raw. “How long have you been tailing me? Watching me without my knowing?”

He met my gaze, and in that brief lapse, I saw it. Guilt. His brow twitched, lips parting like he meant to speak, but the words caught in his throat. It was barely there, a subtle shift, but it was enough.

A twisted satisfaction washed over me. Good . He should feel guilty.

But as I stared into his eyes, a gnawing thought crept in: Was that guilt for what he’d already done…or something worse he was planning?

An icy shiver raced down my spine. A vise clamped around my chest. The way he looked at me—cold, deliberate, probing—unsettled everything. But there was something else behind it, something lethal.

Could I outrun him?

The woods were silent and heavy; the trees stretched upward like mute witnesses. No one was around. No one to hear me scream.

The thought settled in like poison.

Was this his plan all along?

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. I stepped back.

He hadn’t moved, but his presence loomed, growing more intimidating by the second.

As if my words had just sunk in, he asked, “Take you out?” His brow furrowed, expression twisting in confusion. “You think I’m trying to kill you?”

The horror in his eyes looked real, so real that for a second, I wavered.

But unease crept like frost through my veins. Whatever flashed across his face didn’t change the bitter, metallic fear curling in my gut.

He stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to—”

I didn’t let him finish.

Panic surged, hot and blinding. I was already moving.

I ran.

My feet pounded the earth, matching the frantic rhythm pulsing inside me. Branches slapped my face, underbrush tearing at my legs as I tore through the woods.

Get away. Get away!

Then, just as my fear reached its peak—I saw him.

One second, the path ahead was empty. The next, he stood directly in front of me, as if he’d stepped out of thin air.

I skidded to a halt, heart battering my ribs. He stood impossibly still, towering with eerie calm. My pulse thundered. My limbs locked.

My mind screamed, but no sound came out. I pressed my hands to my mouth, choking back the raw cry rising in my throat.

How did he—how was he there?

Breaths came fast and shallow. I backed away, eyes never leaving him, every nerve ablaze. My foot hit a tree root, jolting me to a stop .

“That’s impossible...” I gasped, the words tumbling out, ragged. “How did you move so fast?”

My hands flew to my temples. The world tilted, reality cracking around me.

Zeke took a measured step forward, closing the distance with slow, electric purpose. He loomed, his presence heavy—ancient. Dark.

Every part of me screamed stay away, but I couldn’t move.

I needed to understand.

“I’ll tell you everything, I swear,” he said, voice pleading, posture rigid, like he was holding himself back from reaching for me. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

For a moment, his eyes softened, and I saw something human beneath the mask. Unease stirred inside me. Could I believe that? Trust him, after everything? His words felt rehearsed, too perfect, like a snare waiting to spring.

Every instinct in me screamed to run. To vanish into the trees and never look back. But I knew better now. I would never make it. Still, I couldn’t look away. A knot tightened in my chest. My legs were heavy, numb, caught between terror and the desperate need for answers.

But I wouldn’t let him get close again.

“Don’t take another step!” I snapped, my voice sharp. I pointed at him, my arm trembling but firm, the only thing between us. It felt like a shield, a warning even I wasn’t sure I believed.

He halted, arms rising slowly in surrender, palms open, fingers spread, to show he was unarmed. Harmless.

“First, explain how you just appeared out of thin air,” I challenged, my grip tightening, desperate to steady myself.

Zeke’s expression darkened. He slipped his hands into his pockets, his posture straightening like he was bracing to drop something monumental. He exhaled a slow breath, his eyes locking onto mine with unsettling calm. It was the kind of gaze that pinned me in place.

“Everything you think you know is a lie. All of it.”

He let the silence stretch, thick and heavy. His stare never wavered, studying me with an intensity that made the world around us feel smaller.

I swallowed, my mouth dry, fighting to understand. “Okay…what does that even mean?”

His voice grew deliberate, each syllable slow and measured, as if he were choosing them with care. “I’m not of this world.”

The words clung to the air, a challenge, a declaration of something far beyond my comprehension. My lungs felt heavy as his meaning settled in, but the pieces refused to fall into place.

“I’m not just a mere mortal,” he continued, his eyes holding something timeless, something vast. There was an unspoken knowledge in them, secrets too large for my human mind to hold.

The silence that followed was heavier than before. I could hear my heartbeat—frantic—but couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Zeke stood there, so close, so different, and everything I’d ever known slipped away like smoke in the wind.

Then came the words that shattered the last of my resolve.

“And neither are you.”