Page 4

EVE

Crashing my car was probably one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Right up there with getting in a stranger’s truck and telling him where I lived, even if it was law enforcement.

The engine hummed low, headlights cutting through the trees ahead. Inside, the faint dashboard glow painted everything in soft blues and greens, but it did little to chase off the shadows.

I shifted in the seat, wincing as pain flared in my ribs. Everything hurt—every breath, every movement, every choice I’d made tonight.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

I still didn’t know what to make of Orion’s help, but what option did I have?

Stay on the side of the road, bleeding and half-conscious, hoping someone else might come by?

Staying seemed no safer and my phone was still somewhere in the wreckage, probably smashed to pieces.

I’d be lucky if anyone found me before sunrise and didn’t have worse intentions than this man and his convenience.

So yeah. Staying would’ve been stupid. But this didn’t feel much smarter.

“You sure you’re doing alright?” Orion’s voice broke the silence—steady, like he’d been waiting for me to crack.

“Define ‘alright,’” I muttered, my voice scratchy as hell.

He shot me a sideways glance, the green of his eyes catching in the dim light. “I mean, do I need to take you to a hospital, or are you just being dramatic?”

A short laugh slipped out, sharp with pain. I pressed a hand to my side, shaking my head. “If I say I’m fine, will you believe me?”

“Not even a little bit. What’s your name?”

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to deflect, but I didn’t have the energy for it. Not tonight.

“Eve,” I said. “Eve Andrews.”

He nodded, like that confirmed something. “Well, hello Eve,” he repeated slowly, like he was trying it on. “It’s nice to meet you. Alright. Is it this left?”

“The next one, then straight. Last house at the end of the lane.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. His posture had remained relaxed the entire time, but the edge in him was unmistakable. The way he constantly checked his mirrors and watched the road ahead of him. Like there was something coiled just beneath the surface.

I kept thinking about the man on the road. I was sure I saw him—that he’d been real. But the more time passed, the more it felt like a dream. A hallucination, maybe. I was half-asleep behind the wheel. It could’ve been a deer, or just a shadow thrown by my headlights. Right?

Except… it didn’t feel like that.

“So, you’re a detective,” I said, trying to sound casual despite my churning thoughts. “Is that like… a promoted cop?”

He chuckled, low and amused. “Promoted cop? You’re dishing out all the compliments today.” There was something in his tone—easy and polished, like he was used to deflecting questions. “I don’t wear a uniform, if that’s what you’re asking. I work missing persons.”

That made me sit up straighter.

Missing persons.

My mother’s face flashed in my mind, sudden and uninvited. My chest tightened.

Don’t go there , I warned myself. Not now.

“Oh. What’s that like?” I asked, forcing my voice steady. “What do you actually do?”

A real smile tugged at his mouth. Not practiced. Not careful. Just… real.

“Depends. Sometimes it’s nothing—you get there early enough, and someone gets to go home. Sometimes it’s worse,” his jaw ticked. “Mostly, I travel. Help out with all sorts of disturbances, and sometimes I get to rescue pretty girls like yourself.”

The heat flooding my system was entirely unwelcome given the circumstances.

The truck rolled to a stop outside the house. Orion cut the engine and was out of the cab before I could undo my seatbelt.

“What are you doing?” I asked, startled as he opened the door on my side.

“You’re hurt,” he reached across me to unbuckle the belt. “I’m helping you get inside.”

“I can walk just fine, I’m fine—”

“Eve,” his voice softened, but didn’t budge. “Just let me help you.”

I chewed on the inside of my lip, studying the way he cocked his brow and the look of amusement on his features.

That man was sinfully beautiful—thick lashes and bronzed skin reflecting the dim porch light I must have left on.

I didn’t want his help, but honestly, his truck was so high off the ground I didn’t trust myself not to fall flat on my face as soon as I tried to climb out.

I nodded but didn’t bother hiding my sigh. He chuckled as he slipped an arm beneath mine and helped me out of the truck.

He kept a hold on my upper body as we walked down the cracked driveway towards the peeling front door. The house wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t exactly welcoming either—sagging gutters, drawn curtains, and an unshakable sense of neglect.

It didn’t always look like this.

“Now, let me guess,” he said, setting me against the railing when we reached the porch.

He began lifting the pots full of half-dead plants, and it took a moment for my brain to catch up when he pulled the spare key I’d kept hidden beneath one of them and slotted it into the door.

“You know, this is a terrible place to hide a key.”

“You don’t have to come in,” I said quickly. “I’m fine here, you can go.”

“Eve, you can barely walk without wincing, and your head is bleeding. Let’s get you inside before you pass out.”

I raised a hand to my scalp, and sure enough, my fingers came away red. I wanted to throw up, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was doing that in front of him. Orion already had the door unlocked before he looped his arm back under mine and guided me indoors.

The air was the first thing to hit me as we crossed the threshold—heavy, stale, tinged with something faintly sour, like an old takeout container left too long in the fridge.

My jacket was still slung over the couch, shoes cluttered the hall.

The overhead light flickered when I hit the switch, shadows dancing over scuffed walls I hadn’t gotten around to sorting.

Orion’s gaze swept the space—pausing on the unopened mail, the scratch marks on the wall. He didn’t say anything, but the faint crease between his brows made something tighten in my chest.

“It’s not usually this bad,” I muttered, moving towards the couch. There was no way I had enough energy to make it to the bedroom. “I’m inside, so you can go now.”

“Not until I’m sure you’re not going to die in your sleep,” he replied. “Sit—I’m getting you an ice pack.”

Before I could argue, he was already moving. I sighed and eased down onto the worn couch, biting back a wince. The cushions offered no comfort, sunken and too familiar.

Orion returned with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel. His expression was unreadable.

“Lift your shirt.”

My head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

He crouched beside me, expression maddeningly calm. “Relax. Just checking to make sure nothing’s broken.”

“I said I’m fine,” I said, gripping the hem of my shirt. “Seriously, this isn’t necessary.”

“You’re stubborn,” he said, shaking the bag of peas at me. “I won’t bite.”

I could tell he was joking, but the way he looked at me was exactly the same look I saw on Lila every time she made a crude joke.

I hesitated, but my exhaustion was kicking in, and all I wanted to do was close my eyes. If it got him to leave sooner, then fine.

“Left side,” I mumbled, lifting my shirt just enough.

I didn’t look—I watched him instead. His gaze swept over the bruising, his fingers brushing gently along my side.

“You’re lucky,” he murmured. “Does this hurt?”

“A little,” I said, my voice quiet.

His palms were calloused, but he was careful as he pressed into my ribs. I hissed a little, kicking myself for showing him any reaction, but his touch remained light. Someone with hands like his shouldn’t be this gentle.

“Little liar.”

His touch lingered, and for a second, I felt it—an electric hum sinking into my skin through the contact.

“Nothing’s broken. Just bruised. Rest and ice, you’ll be fine in the morning.” Then the cold bag was pressed against my skin and I flinched, the moment cut clean.

“You don’t seem like the type to follow good advice,” he added, crossing his arms.

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, smirking, “I’d tell you to take tomorrow easy, but I’m guessing you won’t.”

“You guessed right.”

“Mhm. Well, if you’re going to be this stubborn, then I suppose I should at least offer you a ride to work tomorrow.”

I blinked, the words not quite registering. “I can’t ask you to do that. Seriously. Plus, you said I’d be fine tomorrow, and you don’t know where I work—”

“You’re wearing a uniform, Eve. Logo’s right there.”

I glanced down, catching sight of the faded diner logo stitched onto my shirt, and groaned inwardly. “Still doesn’t mean I need a ride.”

“You don’t need a ride? Even though your car’s in a ditch?” His tone was light, teasing, as if he found the idea utterly ridiculous.

“I’ll figure it out,” I snapped, my cheeks burning.

“Uh-huh. Because limping down the road at sunrise sounds like a solid plan,” he stepped toward the door, his movements smooth and deliberate. “What time do you start?”

“Ten,” I said automatically, then immediately regretted it. “Wait—no. You’re not picking me up, that’s just too much.”

“It’s not too much, Eve, it’s my civic duty to help, though you’re making that extremely difficult. I’ll be here at nine.”

“Wait—no, seriously—”

“Lock up,” he said, already at the door, shutting it behind him. There and gone in a flash.

I sat there, stunned—half furious, half something else I didn’t want to name.

I wasn’t sure what unsettled me more—the wreck, the bruises, or the stranger who walked into my mess, acting like he belonged there before vanishing into the night.