Chapter 25 — When Words Fail

Corners of Nowhere
Time blurred into midnight as he came up the stairs, yawning, lazily sweeping his eyes around as though half-asleep until they landed on her figure, messily tangled on the couch.

He twitched his brows, examining her from head to toe and huffed in annoyance, nostrils flaring.

“Such a stubborn kitten, huh? Let’s see how long you remain away,” he murmured under his breath, devilish shadows crossing his face before disappearing to change.

Silence lingered in his absence, thick and heavy, until it thinned, rippled and cracked open with something else, as the place was no longer still but alive, bursting with cheers and laughter.

Music vibrated through the walls like a heartbeat too loud for her chest. Glasses clinked, voices climbed higher and Jenna turned her head toward the commotion and froze.

Her breath snagged when she spotted Evan entering, his presence swallowing the air whole, causing everyone to scream even louder as though his very existence pulled noise from their throats.

She stiffened, her feet rooted as if standing still could anchor her against the storm rushing toward her.

He moved closer with that same slow, controlled pace. His eyes locked into hers with a smirk, broad shoulders squared. Confident. Untouchable.

And behind him entered another man about his age who carried himself like an assistant guarding a secret.

Her gaze darted between them and when the man stepped forward, her eyes unknowingly followed, only to catch two more unfamiliar faces, a father and son.

One bore the sharpness of Evan’s age, the other carried the weight of years like her own father. Together they stood in a line, forming a wall with both Jenna’s and Evan’s families and the air coiled tighter around her, squeezing like a serpent around its prey.

The cheers dulled, muffled, as if her ears had been plunged underwater. Her chest ached when her restless eyes darted in disbelief just as Evan stopped in front of her.

Too close, close enough to trick her senses into wanting to shove him away, yet her body refused to move.

Her gaze dropped as her hands trembled despite her desperate efforts to still them.

“Did you miss me?” His raspy voice was low. Calm. A voice that slithered through her veins like poison disguised as honey, the very sound she had always yearned for.

The crowd blurred into a distant hum. Her skin prickled as heat and cold collided beneath her flesh. Her lips parted, trembling but no words came.

He tilted his head, eyes studying her like a puzzle he had already solved yet still enjoyed playing. “I missed seeing you like this,” he said quietly. “The look that says you still can’t decide if I’m your worst mistake or your only refuge.”

Her breath shivered out as she lifted her gaze into his dark orbs, startled by the emptiness lying in wait there, like a void eager to devour her whole.

A chill crept down her spine as an invisible weight pressed hard against her chest, heavy and merciless as though unseen hands were pinning her down, stealing every breath.

Her fingers twitched uselessly at her sides, panic surging hot through her veins until her eyes flew wide, only to snap open to silence.

No crowd, no voices, only the steady thrum of her heart pounding in her chest. She blinked, disoriented and jolted upright on the couch, running her eyes around as if someone was there.

The unfamiliar ceiling unsettled her at first, her thoughts muddled with confusion. Where am I and who brought me here?

But then her hand brushed the edge of a blanket, tucked neatly, and her eyes landed on a pillow perfectly placed at her side. Who put these here? A flicker of unease tightened in her chest as she blinked. I didn’t have them when I went to sleep. Her eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of it, her pulse picking up.

Suddenly, the weight of the realization sank into her bones, chilling her and dragging her fully awake. It had to be him, the obsessive, infuriatingly precise man behind this.

Damn you, evil genius!

Her throat felt tight, saliva thick and her mood soured in an instant. She felt both bothered and scared and a sharp pinch tugged at her heart.

The chill of the night pressed against her skin, sharp and insistent and a slow, practical ache stirred inside her.

Ugh, I need to use the bath. But what if he’s awake? What if he catches me the moment I open that door?

She wasn’t ready to face him and she could feel him in every shadow, even when he wasn’t visible. Just looking at the bedroom made her chest tighten, a knot of caution twisting deep in her stomach.

She took a moment to collect herself, letting her mind map the situation before making any move.

Okay… I have to move. Step carefully, don’t make a sound. The hall feels so wide and I can’t use the powder room. Can I even do this?

Her toes curled against the carpet, seeking an anchor and she slowly rose from the couch.

Stepping outside the lounge felt wilder, more exposed and she couldn’t use the powder room since it was out in the hallway and it was so quiet.

Her hand hovered at the bedroom door, trembling slightly. She leaned lightly on the frame, listening. Silence.

She stole a glance over her shoulder only to feel the steady rhythm of the night around her, broken only by her own heartbeat.

Slowly and cautiously, she turned the doorknob, peeking inside to see him sprawled across the bed, chest rising and falling steadily.

Oh, thank God, he’s asleep!

Relief swept through her, soft and warm and she eased the door closed behind her before stepping forward, each movement careful as though the floor might betray her.

Halfway to the bathroom, she paused again, the faint trace of him lingering in the air, a quiet reminder that she wasn’t alone, not really. Her pulse hitched but she ignored the feeling and entered the bath.

Meanwhile, he shifted in his deep sleep, a restless tension radiating from him like heat off steel. Muscles flexed beneath the duvet and the sharp line of his jaw twitched involuntarily.

He rolled to the other side, eyes snapping open, pupils narrowing as he realized the space beside him was empty. “Where the hell are you, kitten?”

A low, rumbling growl slipped past him as he exhaled sharply. Frustration carved new lines into his face, his jaw locking like iron. 

He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, letting it slide down slowly, trying to wash away the tension.

The blanket shifted with him as he stilled again but the tension lingered in his shoulders, heavy and unrelenting.

A few moments later, she slipped out of the bath, her bare feet making no sound against the carpet as she caught sight of him lying with his back to her, still as stone and held her breath.

She reached for the door again, her fingers brushed the doorknob, testing it slowly, her pulse thundering in her ears.

But before she could even turn it, a large hand shot out like a striking viper, wrapping around her wrist.

His grip was iron, unyielding, yanking her backward with effortless force. Her body spun, her shoulder colliding with his chest as she stumbled. His presence pressed against her, accompanied by the strong scent of his cologne.

“You think you can move without me knowing?” His voice was silk over steel, a hiss and a command all at once. His eyes burned down into her like black fire. “You don’t get to walk away.”

She jerked against his grip but his arm didn’t budge. The muscles under his shirt were iron.