Chapter 41: FORTY-ONE

J A D E

My shift ended at nine. By that time, I was a nervous wreck. Every time the bell above the door chimed, my head would snap up, my heart leaping into my throat. Every dark haired man in the corner booth was a potential threat. Every car that slowed down outside was a potential stalker.

I was paranoid. And I hated it. I hated him for doing this to me. For making me afraid again.

Amy noticed, of course. She was my friend, and she knew me better than I thought.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft, as she slid into the booth across from me. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

"I'm fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

"Jade, I know you haven’t known me for long but I know a lie when I see one. And that was a lie," she said, her eyes searching my face. "Was that your ex? The one you told me about? The dangerous one?"

I hesitated, my guilt warring with my need for secrecy. I had been so desperate for a clean slate, for a friend who didn't know the whole sordid mess of my past. But I was in over my head. And I was scared.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "That was him."

Her expression softened, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. "Oh, honey. That man is a hot piece of sex, if you ask me. He’s very handsome, but I could see the danger. What did he want?"

"He's... persistent," I said, choosing my words carefully. "He doesn't understand that it's over."

"What an asshole," she said, her brow furrowed with concern. "Do you want me to walk you home? I have my pepper spray."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I'll be fine. I just need to go home and get some rest."

"Okay," she said, her voice reluctant. "But you call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I mean it."

"I will," I promised, my heart swelling with a gratitude so intense it was almost painful. "Thank you, Amy. I’m so glad to have met you, Amy. You're a good friend."

"Hey, what are friends for?" she said, her smile returning. "Now, go home and get some rest. And try not to think about that gorgeous, psycho ex of yours."

I laughed, a genuine, if shaky, laugh. "I'll try."

I gathered my things and headed for the door, my senses on high alert. I peered out the window, my eyes scanning the street, looking for any sign of him, any sign of trouble. The street was quiet, the lamps casting a warm, yellow glow on the empty sidewalks. I didn't see anything. I didn't see him.

I took a deep breath and stepped out into the cool night air, my keys clutched in my hand like a weapon. My studio apartment was a thirty minutes walk from my work. I started walking, my footsteps echoing in the silence, my every nerve ending tingling with awareness. I was being watched. I could feel it.

I quickened my pace, my heart pounding in my chest. I was almost home. I could see the building in the distance. I was almost safe.

Suddenly, a car's headlights cut through the darkness. The car slowed down, crawling along the curb beside me. My blood ran cold. I was being followed. I was sure of it.

I broke into a run, my lungs burning, my legs aching. The car sped up, keeping pace with me. I was trapped. I was going to die.

I made a sharp turn into a narrow alleyway, hoping to lose them. But the car was faster. It screeched to a halt at the entrance of the alley, blocking my only way out.

The door opened, and I opened my mouth to scream, but Markov immediately got out of the car and held up his hands, his eyes wide with a panic I recognized all too well.

"It's just me, Jade," he said, his voice a low, urgent whisper. "Don't be scared. It's just me."

"You're the one I'm scared of!" I screamed, my voice trembling with a rage that was quickly being consumed by a bonechilling fear. "What the hell do you want from me? Why won't you leave me alone? Why are you stalking me, Markov? You’re a psycho."

"I'm not stalking you," he said, taking a step toward me, his hands still raised in a gesture of surrender. "I was worried. Saffra is out there. I had to make sure you got home safe."

"I don't need you to protect me!" I shot back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. "I was doing just fine before you showed up! I was happy!"

"You call this happy?" he asked, his eyes scanning my face, my trembling body. "Living in fear? Looking over your shoulder every second of the day? That's not happiness, Jade. That's survival. And you're not even doing a good job of it."

"Get away from me," I seethed, my voice a low growl. "I don’t want you, I don’t want this, whatever ship we had, it has long sailed, Markov. Don't you get it? I want you out of my life."

"I can't," he said, his voice a raw, desperate plea. "Don't you understand? I can't. Jade, I can’t just let you go. Don’t you get it? My beast is attached to you. I’m attached to you. I have spent three months looking for you. I’m not letting you out of my sight again, not when you’re in danger. Even if that means you’ll hate me forever."

The air crackled with an unspoken tension, the silence was heavy and suffocating. He was so close, I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the raw, unvarnished emotion in his eyes.

I wanted to push him away, to scream and fight until he was gone. But a part of me, a small, traitorous part of me, was tempted. Tempted to believe him. Tempted to let him in.

"You're insane," I whispered, my resolve wavering. "You're completely and utterly insane."

"Maybe I am," he said, his voice a low, husky whisper. He took another step closer, until we were barely inches apart. "But I'm the only thing standing between you and her. And you know it."

He reached out, his fingers gently brushing against my cheek. I flinched, but I didn't pull away. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of awareness through me that I had tried so hard to forget.

"Come with me," he whispered, his eyes pleading with me to give in. "Let me drive you home at least. I'll leave as soon as possible. I just need to know you're safe."

I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit, any hint of the monster I knew him to be. All I saw was a raw, aching vulnerability that mirrored my own. A desperate, all consuming love that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

"I..." I started, but the words caught in my throat. I was torn. Torn between my fear and my desire. Between my past and my future.

And then, a new feeling washed over me. A cold, creeping dread that had nothing to do with the man standing in front of me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and a sudden chill snaked down my spine, despite the warm night air.

Markov's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing, his body tensing. He had felt it too.

"We have to go," he said, his voice a low, urgent growl. "Now."

He grabbed my hand, his grip firm but not painful. I didn't resist. I couldn't. The fear was too strong, too overwhelming.

He pulled me towards the car, my feet barely touching the ground. He opened the passenger door and practically shoved me inside, slamming it shut behind me. He was in the driver's seat in a heartbeat, the engine roaring to life.

"What's going on?" I asked, my heart pounding against my ribs. "What is it?"

"I don’t know," he said, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Seems like we are being watched."

I looked out the back window, my eyes scanning the dark alley. I saw nothing. Just the empty street, the distant glow of the city lights. But I could feel a presence there. A malevolent, watchful presence that made my blood run cold.

"Who is it?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Saffra?"

"I don't know," he said, his jaw clenched. "But it's not good."

He slammed on the gas, the car lurching forward, the tires screeching on the asphalt. We flew out of the alley and onto the empty street.

We drove in silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and the frantic beating of my own heart. I kept looking back, expecting to see a pair of headlights following us, a car chasing us through the deserted streets. But there was nothing. We were alone.

We were a few blocks away from my apartment when Markov finally spoke. "Where's your apartment? I need to get you somewhere safe."

"Up there," I said, pointing to a brick building on the corner. "The top floor."

He parked the car in front of the building, cutting the engine. The silence that followed was heavy, charged with a tension so thick I could taste it.

"Let me walk you up," he said, turning to me, his eyes a storm of emotions.

I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him I could take care of myself, but the words died on my lips. The fear was still there, a cold, hard knot in the pit of my stomach. And as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't want to be alone.

I nodded, my head heavy with a reluctant acceptance.