Shadows

Shadows

The words clamped around my chest like iron. My gaze darted toward the photo still glowing on his phone screen, my own image staring back at me like a ghost. The timestamp made my stomach drop. Less than a minute ago. Which meant whoever took it was close enough to see me. Close enough to hear me breathe.

I stumbled back, nearly tripping over the couch. “No. No, it is not possible. He cannot be here. He cannot.”

Cole’s eyes were steel as he scanned the room. He crossed to the nearest window and peeked between the blinds with a movement so careful it made my nerves snap tighter. His voice was calm, too calm. “Do you see now, Tess? He does not need to break in. He does not need to shoot. He has already gotten inside your head.”

My throat burned as memories I had fought so hard to bury clawed their way back. Nights when Kyle came home late with no explanation, his shirt smelling faintly of smoke and steel. Phone calls that ended the second I walked into the room, his voice steady as if nothing had happened. The way his hands sometimes shook when he thought I was not looking, and how he always brushed it off with a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

I pressed my hands to my face, gasping for air. “I should have known. God, I should have seen it. The late nights, the lies, the way he would change the subject when I asked about his work. He told me I was imagining things. And I believed him. I wanted to believe him.” My voice cracked, and the words came out as a sob. “I chose him over every warning sign. Over every instinct.”

Cole turned from the window, his eyes locking on me. He was a storm contained in flesh, fury simmering under control. “Do not twist this into guilt. This is not on you. He built himself to be believable. He made himself into the man you thought you could trust. That was his weapon.”

“But I let him in,” I whispered. My voice was hollow, raw. “I let him into everything. My heart, my life, my body. I gave him every part of me, and he...” My chest heaved, the words choking me. “He was the kingpin the whole time.”

Cole crouched in front of me, his hand hovering near my knee but not touching. His voice cut low, steady. “You loved the mask, Tess. Not the monster beneath it. That is how men like him work. They do not show you the claws until you cannot escape.”

Tears blurred my vision. My body trembled so hard my teeth chattered. I wanted to scream at him, deny it, cling to the image of the man who once brushed his thumb over my wrist to calm me down. But Cole’s words gutted me because they were true.

Kyle was always in control. Even now, he was proving it.

I wiped at my eyes with shaking hands. “So what do we do, Cole? If he knows where we are, if he has men out there, how do we fight someone who sees every move before we make it?”

Cole’s expression hardened, his jaw flexing. “We stop thinking of him as a man you knew. We treat him as what he is. An enemy. A dangerous one. And we strip away the power he has left.”

His conviction was like fire against my frozen skin, but the fear still clung to me like chains. “And if he gets to me first?”

Cole leaned closer, his eyes blazing. “He will not. I will not let him.”

Before I could respond, the floor creaked above us. A sound so faint it could have been the house settling, but Cole’s entire body went rigid. His hand went to his weapon.

The silence stretched, taut and suffocating.

Another creak. This time heavier. A deliberate step.

Cole’s head lifted, eyes narrowing toward the ceiling. He mouthed one word to me.

Move.

My body obeyed before my brain caught up. I slid off the couch, crawling toward the far corner where the shadows were deepest. My breaths came shallow and frantic as I pressed myself against the wall. Cole moved silently, his body a weapon in motion, checking the hallway, the staircase, every angle of the bunker.

The footsteps stopped.

The silence was worse.

Cole’s phone buzzed again. He froze, then lifted it, his eyes flicking over the screen. He showed me without a word.

Another photo.

Me. Huddled in the corner of the room, my eyes wide and wet, exactly as I was now.

The timestamp glared back at me.

Seconds ago.

My blood ran cold. I whipped my head toward the corners, the ceiling, every shadow in the room. “How is this possible? How?”

Cole’s voice was low, guttural. “There is another bug. A camera. Maybe more than one.”

He moved fast, tearing through vents, prying open panels, his fury sharpened into ruthless efficiency. Within minutes he had pulled out two more devices, their tiny red lights winking like taunts. He smashed them both under his boot.

But the dread inside me did not ease. Because if Kyle had eyes here, then he had known every breath, every word, every tear since the moment I stepped into this place.

My body shook as the truth dug deeper into me. “He has always been watching, hasn’t he? Even when I thought he was just working late. Even when he held me. Even when he kissed me.” My voice broke on the last word. “He never stopped.”

Cole’s gaze snapped to mine, fierce and unrelenting. “Then you accept it. You accept that the man you loved was a mask, and you stop letting him hold power over you. Because the longer you cling to the ghost of who he pretended to be, the faster he wins.”

I pressed my hands to my chest, as if I could hold myself together. “I do not know how to stop loving him. Even knowing all of this, part of me still...” My throat closed on the confession. “Part of me still wants him back.”

The admission shattered something inside me, and Cole’s face darkened, though his voice stayed even. “That is what makes him dangerous. He counted on you still loving him even after the truth came out. He built every lie around that weakness.”

I sobbed, the sound raw and jagged. Cole’s hand finally touched mine, steadying, grounding. “You are stronger than this,” he said. “But you have to fight him here first.” He tapped my temple. “If you do not, nothing else we do will matter.”

Before I could answer, before I could even breathe, the faint scrape of metal echoed from the back entrance of the safe house.

Cole’s head snapped toward the sound. His grip tightened on his gun.

I froze, my body rigid with terror.

Another scrape. Then the unmistakable click of a lock being tested.

Cole moved silently toward the hall, his ey
es blazing. “He is not just watching anymore,” he whispered. “He is coming in.”