Page 7 of Her Outlaw Prisoner (Vanishing With the Rebel #1)

Ellie

I shove my ID badge into my locker and tug the scrubs over my head, the cool air brushing over my skin. It’s been a long day but my body still hums with lingering heat from earlier. From him.

I press my lips together, my fingers brushing my neck where Ronan kissed me not even an hour ago. He left a hickey—the bruise of it is faint, but I can feel the imprint in my soul.

The locker room door creaks open, and I freeze, just for a second, before forcing myself to breathe.

I’m safe. Daryl can’t find me here.

“Hey,” Gina says, strolling in with her signature catlike grace. She gives me a once-over, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You heading out?”

“Yeah,” I reply, keeping my tone casual as I stuff my scrubs into my locker. “Just finished logging charts.”

Gina leans against the lockers, arms crossed, one brow arched in that all-knowing way of hers. “So…you and Callahan?”

My heart skips a beat, but I keep my eyes expression straight. “What about me and Callahan?”

She lets out a humorless scoff. “Don’t play coy, Ellie. There are rumors going around. What’s going on between you two?”

“He’s a patient, Gina,” I say with a nonchalant shrug even as heat rises up my neck.

Rumors already? It’s only been one day!

“Uh-huh. A patient, you say?” She arches her brow in disbelief. “You need to be careful. He’s dangerous. I warned you to stay away from him.”

I shut my locker—a little harder than I mean to. I take in a deep breath, turning to face her fully. “You don’t know him.”

“I know enough,” Gina says, her gaze steady. “He killed a man, Ellie.”

“And I work here because I have to,” I counter. “We all have pasts, Gina.”

She sighs. “I’m not judging, okay? I just…I like you, Ellie. I’d hate to see you get pulled under by someone who’s still drowning.”

I give her a tight smile and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

She watches me for a long beat before nodding. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I always am,” I lie, then slip out the door before she can say anything else.

Outside, the air is cool, the kind that makes you wish you’d worn something thicker, but I hardly notice the chill as I walk toward the main road, my bag clenched tightly in my hand.

I can still hear Gina’s words echoing in my head.

He killed a man, Ellie.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m completely out of my mind for wanting someone like Ronan. But when I’m with him, I don’t feel like I’m in danger.

I feel seen. Wanted. Safe.

Suddenly, a familiar unease crawls up my spine, that bone-deep feeling of being watched. I glance behind me, my heart beating faster than it should.

There’s no one there.

I sight a taxi in the distance. Usually, I would walk the short distance to the bus stop and take the bus home.

Instead I flag down the taxi, glancing over my shoulder as it pulls up in front of me.

I quickly climb into the back seat, murmuring my address to the driver as I sink into the worn leather.

Still, I can’t shake the overwhelming dread tightening my chest, threatening to cut off my air supply. My fingers curl tightly around the strap of my bag.

Daryl.

His name alone makes my stomach twist. It’s been a long time since I last saw him, but I know how he operates. The silence is his weapon. The waiting. The game of shadows and ghosts.

I shift uncomfortably in the seat and turn my gaze to the window, the city lights blurring rapidly as we pass. Thinking about Ronan distracts my mind from the thought of being followed, so I let my thoughts drift to him.

He asked me to leave with him. I thought it was a joke at first, but there was something serious in his eyes. Something raw and real.

Run away with me.

I mean, it’s insane, right? He’s a convicted felon. He’s still got twenty—no, maybe fifteen if he behaves—more years on his sentence. How could we possibly have a future?

But then I remember the way he touched me. The way he held me like I was breakable and precious. And irrevocably his. The idea of running away together doesn’t feel so impossible. It feels like hope.

A dangerous, foolish, beautiful kind of hope.

The taxi slows at a red light, and I let my head fall back against the seat, letting out a deep breath.

My life outside Ronan is a sham. Just shifts and silence and fear.

I go home to an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine.

I avoid social media, never post pictures.

I watch my windows. I look over my shoulder.

What kind of life is that?

And then there’s Ronan.

Ronan is rough. Dangerous. All sharp edges and darkness. But not with me…

With me, he’s gentle. Intense. Attentive. Like I’m the only thing tethering him to this world.

I want him. I want everything he can give. Maybe more. But what does more even look like between us? Can there really be a next chapter between a prison nurse and the most feared inmate in the building?

The light turns green. The taxi moves on. But the questions won’t stop chasing me.

When the taxi stops with a low grunt outside my apartment building, I hand the driver a crumpled bill before stepping out into the street. As I approach the narrow corridor that leads to my apartment entrance, I freeze.

There’s someone at my door.

A tall figure, silhouetted in the dull glow, standing still. Too still. My heart slams into my rib cage, my breath catching painfully in my throat. I take a slow, measured step back.

Daryl.

No. No, please no.

The shadows part slightly as the figure shifts, and that’s when I see him more clearly. Not Daryl. Pete.

My stepfather.

I blink, stunned, my voice tight with disbelief. “Pete?”

His hands are shoved deep in his jacket pockets, his expression a mix of nervous relief and something more. Something I can’t decipher in the dim lighting of the corridor. “Hi, Ellie.”

The sound of my name on his lips makes my stomach turn with a strange mix of comfort and resentment.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, voice sharper than I intended.

“I…I came for you.” His smile is small. “Took a lot of digging, but I did.”

I step closer, but not too close. “Why?”

“You just left,” he says quietly. “No calls. No note. Not even a goodbye. You came all the way out here…” He gestures around helplessly. “To live in this kind of neighborhood. I didn’t understand.”

“Didn’t understand?” I repeat with a scoff. “Pete, your son made my life hell. You didn’t see that?”

He winces, looking away.

“Did you even try to stop him?” My voice cracks. “Did you ever ask yourself why I was always on edge? Why I never brought friends home? Why I couldn’t sleep in my own bed without locking the door?”

“Ellie, I—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“No. You don’t get to show up here and act like the concerned parent. Not when you stood there and let him watch me. Let him torment me. Gaslight me. You let it happen.”

“I thought…he was just struggling,” Pete mutters. “After his mom died, he changed. I thought maybe he just needed time.”

“Struggling?” I laugh bitterly. “You mean he needed control. He needed someone to dominate and I was an easy target.”

He lifts his hands, voice shaking. “I didn’t know it was that bad. If I had known—”

“Would it have mattered?” I challenge. “Would you have believed me?”

Pete looks older than I remember. Lines around his eyes, shoulders stooped.

His voice is soft now, almost pleading. “I haven’t seen Daryl in over six months, Ellie.

I don’t know where he is. He just…vanished.

But I needed to see you. I needed to say I’m sorry.

And if you’ll let me…I want to become a better dad to you. Please, come back home.”

My chest aches, but I shake my head. “No, Pete. That place was never home. And I’m not that girl anymore.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and heavy. He nods slowly, understanding in his eyes.

“I wish I’d done better by you,” he says quietly.

“Me too.”

He lingers a second longer, like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He turns and walks down the steps, disappearing into the night.

I stay rooted to the spot, my hands trembling.

If Pete found me…it’s only a matter of time before Daryl does.

I unlock my door with shaky fingers and step inside. Lock it. Bolt it. Chain it.

It still doesn’t feel like enough.

I press my back to the door, sliding down until I’m sitting on the floor. My head falls back with a dull thud.

Maybe it’s time to leave again. Start over.

But what about Ronan?

I close my eyes. How far can I run…before I have to stop?