Chapter 149

Chapter 149
The gravel crunched beneath her boots, every step echoing louder than it should have in the still spring air. Izzy’s breath came in short, trembling bursts as she kept her eyes on the narrow back road winding through the pines. It felt like the trees themselves were leaning closer, listening to her heart hammer in her chest.

The drizzle had turned heavier, soft rain blurring her vision. Her hair clung to her face as she pushed forward, arms crossed tightly around herself. The cold wasn’t what made her shake. It was the voice still playing in her head — Dick’s smooth, patient tone from the TV.

“Isabelle, darling, please come home. You’re frightened and confused. You’re loved.”

She almost stumbled. The memory of his words made her stomach twist. That voice — it had once sounded like safety. Now, it sounded like a cage locking shut.

She kept walking, refusing to slow down. The highway signs were sparse, but she recognized the old dirt turnoff that led toward the cabin. The air smelled like wet pine needles and mud. Every so often, a car hissed by on the road behind her, and each time she flinched, expecting black glass and men in suits.

By the time she reached the cabin’s clearing, her lungs burned and her legs ached. Beck was on the porch, hunched over a fishing rod, the quiet rhythm of the line between his hands at odds with the panic inside her. His sleeves were rolled up, jaw shadowed with scruff, that steady look of someone who belonged to the woods more than to people.

When he looked up and saw her — drenched, trembling, eyes wild — the fishing rod slid forgotten from his hand.

“Izzy?” He was already moving toward her. “What happened? You’re pale as hell.”

She shook her head, couldn’t find her voice, could barely catch her breath. “They… they found me.”

Beck stopped short. The air seemed to go still between them. “What?”

“He went on TV,” she gasped, the words tumbling out in fragments. “Said I was missing — said I was confused. Lorna saw it. Everyone saw it. My face. My name. He—”

She broke off, chest heaving.

Beck stepped closer, his hand gentle on her shoulder. “Hey, slow down. Sit.” He guided her to the porch steps, lowering her down like she might fall apart otherwise.

Izzy pressed her palms to her knees, rain dripping from her hair. “He’s got everyone believing him,” she said finally. “He said I ran off, that I’m—” she swallowed hard, her voice cracking “—that I’m unstable. And pregnant.”

Beck’s expression darkened, jaw tightening. “Jesus.”

“I didn’t even tell anyone where I was,” she said, eyes wide and unfocused. “I thought I was careful. I don’t even know how he found out.”

The forest around them seemed to press in closer. Beck stood again, pacing the porch, rain speckling his shirt. “If he’s got that kind of money and connections, he probably didn’t have to look far. Half the damn state’s willing to sell a name for a paycheck.”

Izzy’s fingers twisted in the hem of her sleeve. “Lorna looked at me like I was a monster. She told me to leave. Said she didn’t want trouble.”

Beck stopped pacing and crouched in front of her. His voice softened, but his eyes were sharp. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Izzy. You hear me?”

She nodded weakly, but the words slid off her like water off glass.

Beck took a breath, scanning the treeline. “Did anyone follow you?”

“I don’t think so.”

He cursed under his breath. “You can’t stay out here alone anymore. Not with him on the warpath.”

Izzy finally met his eyes. “We can’t stay here, Beck.”

That got his attention. “We?”

She nodded, voice low and urgent. “He’ll find this place too. If he hasn’t already. I don’t have ID, I don’t have proof of who I am. All I’ve got are the things he gave me — and if I show any of them, it’ll just lead him right back.”

Beck studied her face, water dripping from his hair, chest rising slow and heavy. “All right,” he said finally. “Then we leave. Tonight if we have to.”

Izzy blinked, startled by how calm he sounded — not panicked, not doubtful, just decided.

She swallowed hard. “Where would we even go?”

Beck stood, running a hand through his wet hair as he looked toward the dark stretch of forest beyond the clearing. “I don’t know,” he said. “But anywhere’s safer than staying put.”

A distant roll of thunder cracked across the lake, deep and low.

Izzy shivered. “He said he’d come for me himself,” she whispered.

Beck’s head turned sharply, his eyes catching hers. “Then he’ll have to go through me first.”

And something in the way he said it — quiet, firm, absolute — made her believe him, even as fear tightened its grip on her ribs.

Inside the cabin, the air felt too still. Too quiet. Beck shut the door behind them, bolting it out of instinct, but the sound made Izzy flinch anyway.

She stood near the table, arms wrapped around herself. Her clothes were damp and her hair clung to her neck, but she didn’t feel the cold anymore — just that hollow, spinning panic that left her dizzy. Her breath came fast, shallow.

Beck moved slowly, carefully, the way you’d approach a cornered animal. He tossed another log into the stove, coaxing the flames back to life. The orange light painted his face in flickers.

“Sit down, Izzy,” he said softly.

“I can’t.” Her voice cracked. “I can’t, I can’t— he’ll find me.”

He turned, eyes steady. “No, he won’t.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I do.” He stepped closer, his tone firm but gentle. “I do understand. You think you’re safe for five minutes, and then he shows up everywhere. In your head, on a TV screen, behind every corner. You start to think maybe there’s nowhere left to go.”

She blinked, tears slipping free before she could stop them. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”

Beck nodded slowly. “Then let me worry about the rest for a while, yeah?”

She let out a shaky laugh, one that caught on a sob halfway out. “You can’t just fix this, Beck.”

“No,” he said, moving closer until the warmth of the fire blurred between them. “But I can make damn sure he doesn’t touch you again.”

She turned away, pressing a trembling hand over her stomach. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. He has people, money, connections— he’s already convinced everyone I’m some… some delusional pregnant woman who ran away from him. He probably already told them I’m dangerous.”

“Then we disappear,” Beck said.

Her laugh this time was bitter. “Disappear where? Every face I see, every town we drive through— it’s all another chance for him to find me. And if he does…” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t say the rest.

Beck reached out, resting his hand on her shoulder. She froze, but he didn’t pull away. His touch was steady, grounding.

“Look at me,” he said quietly.

When she finally did, his gaze caught her — calm, unwavering. “You’re not alone in this anymore. Whatever comes, we face it together. You, me, and that little one.”

Her breath hitched at that. The little one. She hadn’t heard anyone say it like that — without judgment, without hesitation. Just acceptance.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“What if he finds us anyway?”

Beck’s thumb brushed the tear off her cheek. “Then he’ll wish he hadn’t.”

That should’ve made her smile, but it only made her cry harder. She buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking, everything she’d been holding inside for weeks finally pouring out — fear, guilt, exhaustion, all of it.

Beck didn’t try to stop her. He just stood close enough that she could feel his warmth, and when she couldn’t stand anymore, he pulled her into his arms.

She clung to him, fists curling into his shirt.

“I can’t go back,” she said against his chest. “I’d rather die than go back.”

“You won’t,” he murmured into her hair. “I promise, Izzy. You won’t.”

The fire popped, sending sparks against the glass of the stove door. Outside, the rain had turned to a soft drizzle, the rhythm steady against the roof.

For the first time in a long while, she felt her heartbeat start to slow — not because the fear had gone away, but because for a few seconds, she wasn’t facing it alone.