Chapter 79

Chapter 79
\[AVA\]

Once Brian leaves, I sink back onto the couch, my fingers dialing Max’s number again.

Maybe if he picks up, I can convince him to drop by on his own, and Brian wouldn’t have to go.

But every call goes unanswered. And the more I try to convince myself it’s no big deal—that Max is just being himself, careless and carefree—I can’t bring myself to believe it.

God knows Max isn’t that guy anymore. Not the one who used to think only about himself.

Over the past few months, he’s changed for the better. Became more responsible. Got a job he actually seems to like. Even applied for distance learning to finish college.

When tragedy hit our family years ago, Max still had his head in the clouds. He probably thought our downfall was temporary, that Dad would work his magic, and soon we’d be back—back in a world that kicked us in the ribs the second it had the chance. And the worst part? For a while, I believed it too.

But nothing changed. And I, for one, broke out of that illusion. I realized Dad was tired. And if we wanted things to be different, we had to make that happen ourselves.

Sure, I’m not proud of what I had to do to make ends meet, to pay for college—but I did it. And if not for that, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

But this isn’t the time to think about myself. I have Max to worry about. I have Brian.

I leave Max a dozen voicemails, hoping he’ll get at least one of them and realize how worried sick I am.

As I stress over my brother’s safety, another thought creeps in—Gabriella. The girl he brought with him when Aaron went missing. I think that was her name. I wish I had her number. Maybe she’d have a better idea of where he is—or what the hell is going on.

I’m halfway to the kitchen to make myself a quick coffee—not that I’d be able to stomach it—when the doorbell rings.

My shoulders, stiff and frozen with tension, relax just a little.

"Brian?" It has to be. Maybe he found Max closer than I thought.

I rush to the door, silently thanking whoever is out there looking out for us, sending a quick prayer as I reach for the handle.

The moment I pull the door open, my breath catches.

It’s not Brian.

A man stands in the hallway, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in the building staff uniform. He’s carrying two paper bags that look like takeout from the Thai restaurant nearby.

Something about him makes my stomach clench, but I try to be reasonable about it.

“Can I help you?” I ask, gripping the edge of the door, ready to slam it shut if needed.

The man quickly nods. “This came for Mr. Reinhold.”

I glance at the bags in his hands. “Food?”

“Yeah. He must have ordered. We don’t allow delivery men into the building—for safety purposes and all—so I brought it up myself.”

I frown, trying to make sense of his reasoning. “You could have called.”

“I did. But the call never went through. Maybe something’s wrong with the line.”

I don’t know. This feels like something straight out of a thriller movie. Though, to be fair, the man doesn’t look like he could hurt anyone. He looks innocent enough.

“Uh, just wait here. Let me quickly confirm if this is what we ordered.”

“Sure, miss.”

I close the door as I turn back inside, my heart hammering in my chest.

Brian didn’t mention ordering food. And even if he did, he would’ve told me. Right?

I grab my phone, scrolling through our last messages. Nothing. No mention of Thai food.

Shit.

I try calling Brian, but the call comes up as engaged.

“Come on, Brian, don’t leave me hanging here.”

I leave him a text, begging him to call me ASAP.

A sharp yelp escapes my lips when I feel movement behind me.

I whirl around almost instantly—only to come face-to-face with the so-called building staff.

He looks at me with the same innocent eyes he had at the door, but I swear on anything and everything, something about him has shifted.

“What the hell?” I take a step back, only to bump into the couch. My heart slams against my ribs. “I’m pretty sure I closed the door. How did you get inside?”

The man remains calm as hell—too calm. It feels stranger by the second, more unsettling than I’d like to admit.

“You did? I’m sorry. I thought you asked me to bring the food inside.”

“What?” Is he insane? “I clearly told you to wait. But whatever. We didn’t order that. You can leave now.”

The man doesn’t move.

Doesn’t blink.

Doesn’t even acknowledge what I just said.

Instead, he tilts his head, just slightly, like he’s studying me. The bags are still in his hands, but he holds them so loosely, like he’s forgotten they exist.

A slow, creeping smile spreads across his face. “You sure?”

Something in his tone makes my blood run cold.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I force my voice to stay steady, though my fingers twitch at my sides, ready to grab something—anything—to defend myself. “Take your food and leave.”

“That’s a shame. Thought we could share.”

My stomach knots. “I said leave. Or… or—”

“You’ll call the police? Someone for help? Your old man, maybe?”

My pulse pounds in my ears. “Who are you?”

Everything about this situation screams that he knows me better than I realize. Could this be part of whatever’s been happening since those threats started?

“What the hell do you want?”

He ignores my questions. Instead, he drops the takeout bags on the couch and reaches for my face.

As if I expected this—or maybe I’m just running on sheer instinct—I duck past him and lunge for the door. If I can just get outside, lock him in—

But maybe he already knows what I’m about to do.

Before my fingers even graze the doorknob, a heavy force slams into my back, knocking the air from my lungs. I hit the doorframe with a sharp gasp, pain jolting through my ribs.

A hand wraps around my wrist, yanking me back before I can react.

“You’re quick,” he muses, voice smooth, unbothered. “But not quick enough.”

I twist, kick, claw—anything to get away. My elbow connects with his side, hard enough to make him grunt, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, his grip tightens, his other hand clamping around my jaw, forcing my head back.

“Stop fighting!” he snaps, his voice edged with frustration. He yanks me back inside by the neckline of my top, dragging me off balance. “Or you’re gonna end up making the mess I’m trying so damn hard to avoid.”