Nowhere Is Safe
SOLINE'S POV
He didn't hand me the note. He just clenched it in his fist, eyes shifting toward the broken glass scattered across my floor like it meant nothing.
He walked past me, pulled the curtains shut, then grabbed my wrist and pulled me back from the window.
My heart was racing, not just from the noise or the fact that someone had thrown a rock at my home, but from the way he moved, like this wasn't new to him. Like he'd done this before. I asked him again, more firmly, what the note said. He shook his head and told me to pack a bag.
I stood there frozen. "What do you mean packing a bag?" He looked at me, with those stormy eyes of his. "It's not safe for you here anymore." They have found you, and they'll come again.
I wanted to ask who 'they' were, but something about his voice stopped me. So I turned and started throwing clothes into a bag, hands moving faster than my thoughts. My mind hadn't caught up with what was happening.
This was my home, small as it was. This was supposed to be where I came to disappear, not where I got hunted.
He didn't touch his phone to call security or alert the police. He just waited by the door, his eyes darting toward every sound. I zipped the bag and asked where we were going. He didn't say the name, he just replied, "Somewhere they won't look."
That wasn't comforting, but I followed him anyway. We left through the back stairwell, not the front, stepping over a piece of broken glass that had bounced into the hallway. He led me out to a black car waiting in the alley.
Zayven gave the driver a nod, then opened the door for me. I slid in. He got in beside me, not speaking until we were halfway across the bridge.
Only then did he finally open his hand. The note was wrinkled, the words scribbled in capital letters.
"THE TRUTH DIED WITH HIM. DIG AND YOU'LL BE NEXT." I stared at it, barely breathing.
He folded it back again and tucked it in his jacket pocket like it was just another receipt. I asked if this had to do with his brother. He didn't answer directly, just muttered, "They think I'm getting too close."
I leaned back against the seat, gripping my knees. "I don't understand. ""I was just drawing, I didn't even know who you were that day." He turned to look at me, eyes tired. "Exactly. That's why you saw what others didn't."
I still don't understand a thing, my life is turning into a movie. A very suspenseful one.
The driver didn't speak once, even when we stopped at a secure garage in Lower Manhattan. The car descended into a private underground level I didn't even know existed. The doors opened to a long hallway lined with steel and silence.
We entered a secondary elevator, smaller, older. He used a fingerprint scan to unlock the panel. When we reached the top, the space looked nothing like his penthouse. This place was quieter. Earth tones, bookshelves and real plants everywhere. A fireplace that still smelled faintly of wood smoke.
He walked in like he hadn't been here in years.
"This is mine," he said. "But no one knows about it, not even Lissa."
I asked why he kept it secret. But he sat down on the couch and replied, "Because everyone has a weakness. And mine is trust."
I dropped my bag by the door, my arms still looked tense. He then nodded toward the room. "It's clean, there's a bathroom inside too."
I went in and shut the door behind me, not because I didn't trust him, but because I needed space to breathe. I washed my face, and tried to calm my thoughts, but the words on that note echoed in my mind like a warning bell. Dig and you'll be next.
When I finally came out, he was still seated on the couch, but he was now holding a drink in his hand, his suit jacket was gone, and his sleeves were rolled up.
He looked different in that light, just like a man who had lost something he couldn't replace. I sat across from him. The silence between us stretched too long. Then I asked him what he'd found, like the thing that triggered all this.
He didn't speak at first, he just sipped slowly. Finally, he said, Tyrekh kept a journal. That portrait you drew? It looked exactly like the one he sketched for himself in that journal.
''""I thought it was a coincidence. ""But now I don't think it is, ''I frowned. "You think he's alive?" He shook his head. "No. I think someone wants us to believe he died of suicide, and they also want his name erased."
I was still trying to process that when my stomach growled. He looked up, surprised. "You haven't eaten?" I shook my head.
"Not since yesterday." Without a word, he stood and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with toast, eggs, and cut-up fruit. "It's not much. I don't cook often."
I thanked him quietly, because I was surprised that he knew how to cook. I ate fast, not realizing how hungry I was until my hands shook from the first bite. He watched but didn't make it awkward.
After I finished, I leaned back, my mind still spinning. "So what now? ""You hide me until they forget I exist?" He set his glass down.
"No,'' he replied. Tomorrow, we will talk to someone. Someone who might know what Tyrekh was involved in before he died."
I asked who but he hesitated, before answering.
He used to handle our internal cybersecurity. He left the company three weeks before Tyrekh died. He didn't explain why he quit. And now that this rumor is flying around, he's the only one that can help us out, but he won't answer calls. But I know where he is.''
I asked if it was safe, but he just smiled grimly. "Not even a little."
The lights dimmed automatically as night settled in deeper. I walked to the window, there was no city view, just old brick walls and an alley below and total silence. I turned back to him and asked why he had come to my apartment that night.
"Because I remembered your eyes," he murmured. I didn't know what to say to that.
We both stayed in the main room a little longer. He sat with his hands clasped together and his elbows on his knees. I sat with my legs folded under me, my sketchbook in my lap. Although, I wasn't drawing.
Finally, he stood up. "Get some rest. ""Tomorrow won't be easy." I nodded and turned toward the guest room.
But right before I shut the door, he said quietly.
''They tried to kill him.
And I think they'll try again. Only that this time, it's you they're after.''