Chapter 44

I paced the room, nails digging into my palms. I couldn’t drag Dan into this, not when he had already done everything to protect me, not when he was finally breathing again after days of fear and taking care of me when I was sick. Whoever made that call wanted to rattle me, corner me. And I refused to give them the satisfaction.

I moved to the study, my mind on autopilot. Dan thought his safe was his private fortress, but he didn’t know I had watched him open the safe so many times, and at this point, I had memorized every number for the combination.

My hands trembled slightly as I turned the dial, the familiar click sounding louder than ever. Inside was a neat stack of documents, bundles of cash, and the cold steel glint of his handgun.

My breath hitched as I picked it up, heavier than I remembered, solid in my grip. I had no plan to actually use it, but tonight, I needed every ounce of strength I could borrow. I changed into dark jeans, a fitted jacket, and sneakers, the closest thing to practical I had. Also, the only thing that actually fitted me now.

By the time I slid behind the wheel of my car, adrenaline had swallowed the fear. I drove to the mall, my grip tightening on the steering wheel with every passing streetlight. Once there, I parked in the far corner of the lot, keeping my eyes sharp, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

Minutes stretched, and nothing was happening; he wasn't making any appearance. I was just about to convince myself that maybe the call had been a bluff when I noticed a movement near one of the pillars.

My breath caught, Tyson. I cursed under my breath in disbelief that he would go to such extreme lengths to get my attention.

He was half-hidden, hood drawn low, leaning against the concrete like a man trying not to be noticed. But I knew him. Every line of his stance was familiar. He hadn’t seen me, and that gave me the upper hand.

I slid out of the car, gun in hand, and moved silently across the lot until I was right behind him. I pressed the barrel to the back of his head, my voice cold. “Stop trying to get back into my life, Tyson.” For a second, he froze. Then, with terrifying speed, he twisted, grabbing my wrist and forcing me back against the wall. The gun clattered to the ground. His strength overwhelmed me, his face inches from mine, eyes blazing with the stubborn fire I hated and feared in equal measure.

“You think you can scare me, Em?” he growled, pinning my arm. “You think a gun is enough to push me out? No, I will never stop until I know the truth.” My chest heaved, my throat dry. In my mind, I was screaming at myself at how stupid I was to come and face this alone. He looks insane and deranged.

“What truth?” I whispered, though part of me already knew what he meant. His grip tightened on my arm, and I could feel his nails digging into my arm. “The truth about us and that baby you are carrying. You want me gone? Then prove it. Do a DNA test.” My stomach dropped, nausea curling in my gut. I wasn't expecting to back down, but I also didn't expect this kind of fire and determination. Tyson has always been kind of a down-to-earth person.

“If you don’t,” he continued, his voice low and deadly, “I’ll tell Dan everything. Every suspicion, every question you’ve been hiding from him. Do you want him to find out from me?” I stared at him, fury and terror twisting inside me. The air between us burned with unspoken history, with secrets I had tried to bury. "You also don't scare me, Tyson. In fact, I would be happy to put a bullet in your head; you're starting to get on my nerves. This is not your baby, get over it." I said, trying to sound brave, he snickered and rolled his eyes like the madman he is. "I'm not joking, I have nothing to lose."

“Fine,” I forced out through clenched teeth. “You’ll get your test. But after that, Tyson, you leave me the hell alone.” A small, grim smile curved his lips. “We’ll see.” He released me suddenly, leaving me unsteady against the wall. I bent quickly, scooping up the gun, my hands shaking. "Fuck, I'm fucked." I murmured to myself as I watched him walk away. This is not the same guy I met months ago, who was protective of me; this Tyson is obsessive and insane.

I quickly got into my car, drove away from the mall with my knuckles white from clenching the steering wheel too hard. My breath came in short bursts, uneven, my whole body buzzing with the aftershock of Tyson’s words. DNA test. It echoed in my mind like a song stuck on repeat.

My mind replayed the moment over and over, the feel of the gun slipping from my hand, the cruel satisfaction in his eyes when he realized how rattled I was.

Streetlights blurred past, and for a moment, I wasn’t even sure I should be behind the wheel. I was trembling too much, my heartbeat drowning out the hum of the engine. Halfway home, I slowed as I passed the refilling station on the corner, anticipating whether I should go in and refill my tank or just drive straight and risk running out of gas in the middle of the road.

That was when I noticed someone, and I squinted my eyes to get a better view. A figure standing by the edge of the lot, half-hidden by the glow of the neon price sign. The shape was familiar, slender, feminine, a posture I would have recognized anywhere.

Anna.

It couldn’t be. My breath caught in my throat in shock, my body locked in place even as the car rolled to a stop. I shook my head, feeling like I was losing my mind or in an endless nightmare. She can't be here; I saw her getting shot by Tyson.

But she was standing there, her dark hair catching the fluorescent light, her gaze fixed on me. Our eyes locked, and every drop of blood in my veins turned cold.

“Anna?” I whispered, my voice shaking as if saying her name might summon her closer. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came. Instead, she turned suddenly, violently, and bolted, disappearing into the shadows behind the station.

I fumbled for the door handle, torn between chasing after her and fleeing in the opposite direction. My body leaned forward, but fear anchored me to the seat. If it was her, if it really was Anna, what did that mean? If it wasn’t… then what on earth was following me now?

The horn of a passing truck snapped me back to reality, and I realized I was still stopped in the middle of the road. My foot slammed the accelerator, the car jerking forward. I didn’t look back at the station, didn’t dare.

By the time I reached the gates of the mansion, my hands were slick with sweat, my pulse hammering so hard I thought I might collapse. I was so nauses that I stood for a second, bile up in my throat.

I parked haphazardly, not even straight in the bay. My fingers fumbled with the keys, and the door slammed harder than I intended.

The front door swung open before I could even reach for the knob. Dan was there. He must have just gotten home, because his jacket was still on, his phone in hand. His eyes narrowed the second he saw me, like he was about to scold me.

“Em? What happened?” He strode forward, his hand steadying my arm before I could even form words. He stared at me with this caring, urgent look, the one that said 'tell me who hurt you so I can make them pay'.

I froze, staring up at him. The warmth of his touch should have grounded me, but instead it unlocked something else, the sheer weight of what I had seen, what I had done. I couldn’t keep this in, not from him.

“I…” My voice cracked, my throat dry. His gaze sharpened, his other hand brushing against my cheek, and I realized he deserves to know the truth.

“I need to tell you something.”