Chapter 25 AT THE WRONG PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME
I woke up feeling much better than I thought I would. Leaning in, I pressed a soft kiss on Renna's cheek.
"I'm sorry, honey. But Mummy has to go," I whispered to her sleeping form.
She's going to be so upset if she ever finds out I'm leaving-especially after just getting back. The guilt tugged at my chest as I quietly slipped out of her room and returned to mine, my steps heavy with hesitation.
I felt weak. Not from exhaustion, but from the weight of everything. The timing, the responsibility, the pain of constantly being torn between worlds. Still, I forced myself to shower and pack a small backpack. I had a flight to catch.
I considered leaving a note for Arabella on the kitchen table. I didn't want to disturb her sleep-just vanish quietly. But as I stepped into the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks.
Arabella was already awake, hunched over her laptop. Despite the soft glow of the screen lighting her face, she looked up the moment I entered. Her eyes narrowed, confusion immediately forming on her face.
"Where are you going this early? And why do you have a backpack with you?" she asked, her gaze locked on mine.
"I have to be somewhere," I said, trying to sound casual-like it was no big deal.
"Somewhere?" she echoed, her brows lifting. "Because it looks more like you're sneaking out. And you're definitely not just going somewhere with a bag that size."
Her tone turned firm, her arms folding across her chest. I knew her too well-she wasn't going to let this go unless I gave her the truth.
"Fine," I muttered with a sigh. "I'm going to Brentmere. Happy?"
"Nancy, you just got back into town. After being away from home, from Renna, for a whole fucking year and a half! And you think leaving the next day is the right thing to do?" Arabella shot back, her voice thick with disbelief and judgment.
"I know it's bad timing. I know it looks terrible. But I don't have a choice. This is something I have to do," I replied, the frustration rising in my throat like bile. "It's not like I wanted any of this to happen."
I walked over to the table and dropped my backpack, then sank into a chair, exhausted from the argument already.
"Can't it wait? Can't you go some other time?" she continued, clearly not finished. "Have you even thought about how Renna feels? She's only four, Nancy. Four! Do you know how hard it is for her every time you disappear?"
Each question stabbed at my heart.
Tears gathered in my eyes, but I held them back with every ounce of strength I had left. "You act like I had a choice in being away. Like I wanted to stay gone from my daughter. Do you really think I've been happy living apart from her?"
"I do think you had a choice," she said, her voice quieter but firm. "I saw the resignation letter you took with you yesterday. So imagine my surprise when I found it still on the table this morning."
That caught me off guard.
I opened my mouth to explain, but movement at the door stopped me cold.
There she was.
Renna.
Her small figure peeked around the frame, watching us with wide, glassy eyes.
Arabella noticed her too-and the fight left her instantly.
"Mum... are you going somewhere?" Renna asked in a trembling voice. "Are you leaving again? Can I come with you? Please?"
Her tears-already running freely down her cheeks-broke me.
I blinked hard, fighting the lump in my throat as I approached her. I knelt to her height and gently cupped her face.
"No, honey. Of course not," I said softly, brushing her tears away. "I'm just going to see Aunt Linda. I'll be back before you even miss me. I promise."
"Really?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Really," I said with a small smile. "Do you want to bet on it? That I'll be back today?"
She nodded. We sealed the promise with our pinky fingers, and a smile slowly returned to her sweet little face. I pulled her into a hug, holding her like I'd never let go.
When we finally pulled apart, Arabella lifted her into her arms, but not before giving me a long, hard look that said it all: You better keep that promise.
I stood there for a few more seconds after they left, collecting myself. Then I grabbed my backpack and walked out, hailing a taxi to the airport.
As I stared out the window, watching the town fade behind me, only one question lingered in my mind.
Can my life ever get any better?
Jaxon's POV
"Dude, are you sure you're okay? You've been acting off all day-and for the last time, you look pale. You barely touched your breakfast, and now you're doing the same with your lunch," Troy said, eyeing me with concern.
"I'm fine, Troy. The thought of the Shadows being in town is enough to mess up my entire day and add to my stress," I replied flatly, not wanting to talk about how I had literally broken down in the middle of the road early this morning.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
"You worry too much," he said, leaning back in his seat. "We're just here to make sure the business they had with the Boss goes smoothly, and that's it. Hopefully, they'll be leaving by tomorrow. So don't ponder it too much."
I nodded in response, though his words barely made a dent in my state of mind. My eyes stayed glued to the untouched plate of food in front of me. Just the smell of it made my stomach churn.
After I came back earlier this morning, I stood alone on the balcony, lost in a mental haze-stuck inside the same nightmare I've carried with me for years. The same one that resurfaced all over again after the accident I witnessed. I don't even know how long I stood there, until Troy finally came and pulled me away from it.
"It's obvious you're skipping lunch too," Troy muttered as he stood. "Let me go settle the bill, then we can head out."
I gave a faint nod, barely registering his words. I just sat there, slouched and disengaged, waiting for him to return-my head heavy, heart restless, and emotions completely scrambled.
We eventually left the restaurant and headed back to the hotel, where the business deal was supposed to take place. But every time our car drove past a white truck, an undeniable wave of panic surged within me-tightening around my chest like a vice.
My hands would clench, my breath would hitch, and I'd find myself sinking into another flash of the morning's events-replaying them like a broken tape.
It was clear that my PTSD had only gotten worse after witnessing that crash. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to put my emotions in check.
I couldn't even understand them.
Not fully. Not anymore.
Troy's POV
He sighed more than ten times in under a minute, then tugged at his tie like it was choking him-or like he couldn't breathe properly no matter how hard he tried.
Something was up. And I could tell his PTSD had everything to do with it, especially when I noticed how he avoided looking at any white trucks as we drove past. His eyes would shift, his shoulders tense, and his hands would curl tightly into fists.
I let out a long, tired sigh of my own.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I glanced over and saw Jaxon tearing the tie from his neck, tossing it aside like it was poison. Then he undid the first two buttons of his shirt, his chest rising and falling like he'd just escaped a nightmare.
He was clearly not okay-but honestly, I was tired of pushing. He never talked when he wasn't ready.
We made our way inside to the VVIP room, where the leader of the Shadows was already seated. The room smelled of wealth, smoke, and expensive liquor. Jaxon was the first to grab a glass of wine, then silently made his way to a far corner of the room, away from the growing crowd that trickled in slowly.
I followed and joined him, settling in beside him away from the chaos. After all, we weren't the guests. This was a party meant for the elite-the kind of rich, greedy men who didn't mind throwing away fortunes on drugs, girls, and dirty deals.
Our job was simple: make sure the night was a success.
And so far... it was going smoothly.
While Jaxon sat back with his legs crossed, arms folded tight across his chest, his head tilted forward and eyes shut-I kept my eyes on everything happening in the room.
Then I saw it.
Among the other young girls walking around with trays of wine, I spotted her.
At first, I didn't believe it. I blinked-once, twice-and then she came a little closer, heading toward our side to serve drinks.
It was her.
Miss Carter.
What the actual hell?
What on earth was she doing here? Was she undercover? Was this some police sting?
Panic surged through me.
But the way she was dressed... like every other girl in the room-tight dress, heavy makeup, heels so high they looked like a safety hazard-it made me second-guess everything.
"Jaxon... Jaxon," I hissed, shaking his arm until his eyes fluttered open, filled with nothing but irritation.
"What?" he snapped, annoyed.
"You might want to look up," I said, my voice low.
And he did.
I watched as his eyes widened in sheer disbelief, just for a moment-before something else settled in.
A darker look I couldn't quite place.
"What the hell is she doing here... dressed like that?" he muttered, jaw tightening.
At that exact moment, Miss Carter's eyes met ours across the room.