Chapter 9 Shudders
I wasn’t sure when the space between us stopped feeling like air and started feeling like gravity.
Jack stood too close—close enough that I could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of my gown, close enough that every breath I took seemed to brush against his chest before it returned to me. My thoughts lost their neat lines. Cause and consequence blurred into something hazy and dangerous. I should have stepped back. I should have said something sharp, professional, distancing.
Instead, I stayed still.
My pulse thudded in my ears, loud and insistent. I could feel it everywhere—my throat, my wrists, low in my stomach. My lashes dipped without permission, betraying me. I had built my entire life on control, on composure, on being the woman who never faltered, never leaned too far into anything that could unbalance her.
But Jack’s nearness did exactly that, it unbalanced me.
His warmth, the intensity in his eyes, and the way he wasn’t rushing me or pushing—he was just there, solid and present, as if he knew I was already unraveling all on my own. I could feel the edges of myself slipping, feel the mask cracking, and fear curled tightly around the spark of something else—something reckless.
Then the moment shattered.
“Ms. Vale!”
The voice rang out too brightly, too loudly, slicing clean through the tension like glass.
We both jolted, instinctively pulling back just enough to breathe again. A young woman stood a few feet away—a secretary from the PR firm. She looked barely old enough to be out of college, eyes wide, phone clutched to her chest like a shield. Her gaze darted between Jack and me, clearly registering how close we’d been.
“I—I just sent you the email you requested,” she said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Sorry, um… I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Heat flooded my face.
I cleared my throat, forcing my spine straight, my expression neutral. The version of myself the world expected snapped back into place like a wire pulled taut. “Okay. Thank you,” I said, my voice coming out quieter than I intended.
She nodded too many times, gave a stiff, awkward bow, and fled. Her heels struck the marble floor in rapid bursts, sharp and echoing, like gunshots announcing the end of something that should never have begun.
I exhaled and stepped sideways, intent on reclaiming my personal space and sanity.
But I didn’t get far before Jack moved with quiet decisiveness, shrugging off his suit jacket before I could protest. In one smooth motion, he draped it over my shoulders. The fabric settled around me, heavy and warm, carrying his scent—something clean and dark and unmistakably him.
“You need to cover up,” he said softly.
Concern edged his voice, genuine and unguarded. But beneath it was something else. Something intimate enough to make my chest tighten.
I blinked, momentarily stunned by the warmth seeping into my skin. My gaze dropped without my permission.
His forearms were bare now.
Ink traced along his skin—bold lines, sharp angles, symbols I didn’t recognize but felt drawn to anyway. Tattoos hidden beneath tailored suits and careful restraint. A glimpse of something wild beneath the polish. The contrast made my breath hitch.
I realized too late that my teeth had caught my lower lip.
Jack noticed, a smirk rested at the corner of his mouth.
When I finally lifted my eyes back to his, I forced my chin up, grasping for authority. “Don’t expect a thank you,” I said.
A slow grin curved his mouth, lazy and knowing. “Guess what,” he murmured. “You already said it.”
I scoffed and brushed past him, pretending his words hadn’t sent a spark skittering straight down my spine.
But he saw it and worse, I did too.
I pushed through the tall glass doors and into the night, the sounds of the event dulling behind me. Cool air rushed over my skin, carrying city smoke and something sharper beneath it—unease. The terrace lights glowed softly, indifferent to the storm brewing inside my chest.
I needed space. Just a minute, just one breath without ferocious eyes on me.
My heels clicked against stone as I walked, my pulse still uneven, thoughts tangling around Jack’s presence, Richard’s venomous taunts earlier in the evening, and my father’s pointed silence. It was too much to bear. Everything felt like it was pressing in at once.
I dug into my purse, fingers grazing my compact, my lipstick, before wrapping around my phone. The screen lit up as I powered it on—emails, texts, notifications stacking on top of one another in their usual, suffocating way.
I scrolled absently.
Then I heard it.
A sharp metallic clatter.
Car horns blared. Shouts twisted into something distorted and wrong. Time stuttered, like it couldn’t quite decide what came next. I looked up instinctively, my phone slipping in my grasp.
And then I saw it, a body had fallen.
Dead.
It crashed down from above with a sound I swore will never forget. A wet, thunderous impact that seemed to shake the ground itself. Glass shattered, tires screeched. Someone screamed—a raw, animal sound that cut straight through me.
My mind refused to catch up or even understand. Blood exploded outward, spreading across the stone like ink spilled from a ruptured pen.
Then it hit me, it was warm and wet.
Crimson streaked across my arms, my chest, my neck. My white gown—already marred by wine—was now drenched in something infinitely worse. A droplet slid slowly down my cheek, thick and heavy, like a grotesque tear.
I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even breathe. I felt numb.
The world tilted, narrowed, went cold at the edges. My body began to tremble violently, every muscle seizing as shock slammed into me all at once. The figure on the ground was twisted beyond recognition—limbs bent wrong, face destroyed by the fall.
People were screaming, running, but it all sounded distant and muted, like I was underwater.
Then my knees gave out and gravity took me.
But I didn’t hit the ground because strong arms caught me mid-fall, hauling me upright, crushing me against a solid chest.
Jack.
He’d burst through the doors, panic etched across his face. One hand cradled the back of my head, the other locked around my waist as if he were afraid I’d vanish if he loosened his grip.
“Elena,” he breathed. “Elena, look at me. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
I couldn’t answer.
My lips moved, but no sound came out. My eyes stared through nothing, trapped in the image burned into my mind. My body shook uncontrollably, blood soaking into my dress, clinging to my skin.
Chaos erupted around us—security shouting, guests flooding the terrace, sirens wailing closer and closer.
But Jack held me tighter, shielding me, anchoring me.
“Are you okay?” His voice broke through the noise, urgent and raw.
The question cracked something open inside me.
Tears surged without warning, blurring everything. I tried to speak, but my throat closed around the words and my body trembled. Only a broken sob escaped me, I was terrified.
“Don’t look,” he murmured, guiding my head into his chest. “Just breathe. You’re safe.”
But I wasn’t. How could he not see that?
I felt contaminated and brutally marked.
My fingers clenched in his shirt, desperate for something real, something solid, because the world felt like it was dissolving. Blood clogged my senses. Sirens screamed. Death lingered far too close.
And then—
My phone vibrated.
Ding.
Jack stiffened instantly. I felt it—the way his body went alert. He gently took the phone from my trembling hand, eyes scanning the screen.
The message stared back at me from an unknown number:
I love the frightened look on your face. It almost turns me on.
Nausea rolled through me.
The blood on my skin felt heavier now. It felt intentional and personal.
Someone had seen me, someone had watched my fear and enjoyed it. My lips trembled.
Jack’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he lifted his gaze, scanning the crowd like a predator sensing another nearby.
“Elena,” he said quietly, firmly. “We’re leaving. Now.”
I nodded slightly.
Because deep down, I knew that it wasn’t random, and certainly not an accident.
Someone had planned this, and that person was watching me—even as I unraveled.