After Her
SOLINE'S POV
I closed the door behind me and stood in the middle of the dim room. His words played on repeat in my head. They tried to kill him. Now they'll try again. But this time, I was the one in danger. That should've sent me straight to sleep, exhaustion finally dragging me under. But all I could do was sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the blank wall.
I didn't know who "they" were. I didn't even fully know who he was. And yet here I was, in his home, in his shirt, hiding from a threat I didn't understand.
My fingers tugged at the sleeves covering my thighs. I thought about Caelon. I hadn't heard from him again, nor has Thessyra, my female best friend, ever called me since this whole scandal started.
And now my phone is dead. The second phone he gave me was still on the nightstand, unused. I picked it up, unlocked it, and stared at the empty screen like it would whisper secrets. I tried searching for his name, his full name. But nothing relevant came up. I flipped to the camera, hovered it around the room, scanning for hidden cameras or something I didn't know I was looking for.
I found nothing but still, I felt watched. I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, but every sound made my muscles tighten. I heard faint clinks of a keyboard, then soft footsteps, and the low hum of the fridge.
He was still awake, then I stood and pushed open the door and moved quietly into the hallway. His door was slightly open, because his lights were still on. I walked straight in without knocking.
He was shirtless, his back to me, sitting at a desk lit only by his laptop screen. His muscles were tense, the bruises on his ribs faded but visible.
He didn't look surprised when he spoke. "Couldn't sleep?" I leaned against the door frame, keeping my arms folded.
"No. Not after you said someone's trying to kill me."
He didn't turn. "You're safe here."
"Safe?" I laughed under my breath. "You dragged me from my apartment, refused to explain what's going on, and now I'm supposed to trust you?"
He finally turned. "I'm not dragging you into anything. You were already in it."
"Bullshit," I snapped, stepping into the room. You keep saying that, but you haven't told me why. Who are you really? What are you hiding? Why was there a sniper aiming at your car? Why was I there? Why did you save me but not report it? Why the hell am I really here?''
He stood up, closing the laptop. "You want the truth?" I nodded.
"I think you owe me that much." He stepped toward me, slowly, something cold in his expression. "I don't know why they targeted you.'' I don't even know what they think you saw. ''But the moment I realized they were willing to shoot an innocent girl just to stop her from speaking, I knew you couldn't go home."
"So you locked me in your apartment instead?"
"You're not locked in," he said, chuckling.
"Don't play word games with me," I said. I was already shaking. Not from fear or rage, but from the pressure building between us.
I hated this, the way my body reacted when he stepped too close.
His voice lowered a bit as he spoke again. "I've been trying to figure out who sent that shot. So, for now, I will have to keep you close, so you won't stop breathing."
I lifted my chin. "So I'm just some girl who got in the way? ''That's all I am to you?" He stared at me for a long moment.
"No." His hands were suddenly at my waist, pulling me closer. I literally stopped breathing as his mouth brushed mine.
I kissed him back before I could stop myself. My fingers tangled in his hair, his body pressed hard into mine, our breaths hot and uneven. I didn't trust him. I didn't even know him. But right now, I don't care. His lips trailed to my neck, his hands pushing the shirt up my thighs, and everything blurred. My back hit the desk. His mouth was everywhere.
I gasped, my legs were already wrapping around his waist, as my body was melting under the weight of his. He tugged at the shirt, pulling it over my head, mouth lowering to my chest, his voice rough against my skin.
"Tell me to stop." but I couldn't. My fingers clawed at his back, dragging him down to meet me again, mouths crashing like waves, desperate to forget, to feel and consume.
The sound of a sharp beep froze us both. He went still, his body halfway on mine. The computer screen flashed red. He pulled away instantly, grabbing the laptop. His face changed.
"Motion sensor. Someone's in the stairwell." He stood fully, already moving. "Get dressed. Now."
I stumbled off the desk. My heart was beating faster again, but for a completely different reason. I grabbed the shirt, pulling it back over my head as I followed him toward the hallway. He opened a drawer, pulled out a gun, checked it, and it was loaded. His movements were automatic.
I stood frozen near the kitchen island. "What's happening?" "No one's supposed to know where this place is. ''If they found me here, that means someone's tracking one of us." I literally wasn't registering that he had a gun. I looked down at the phone in my hand.
"You think it's bugged?" He didn't answer. He just tossed me another phone and said, "Use this one. And if anything happens, go to the laundry chute by the stairs. Drop two floors, there's a maintenance tunnel. Keep running until you see a red exit door and don't stop."
"What about you?" I asked, my voice was already breaking.
"I'm just buying you time," he replied.
"You said I was bait," I whispered. "Am I still a bait?" He glanced at me, something dark and unspoken passing through his expression.
"Now's not the time for this Soline." He moved to the door, and raised the gun, but I grabbed his arm.
"Wait. Just wait. Don't open it yet." "They might already know we're in."
''Please Solin….
Just… wait thirty seconds, I said again. Let me text my best friend Caelon. He's the only number I have in my heart. In case I die tonight, someone should know.''
He nodded once. I grabbed the second phone, my fingers were shaking, and I typed out the message.
''I'm in a big mess right now, it's me, Soline. If I don't reply in the next 24 hours, tell my grandma that I'm sorry, that I couldn't make it. And I hit the send button.
Then deleted the message. I looked up. "Okay." He stepped forward, slowly and carefully. I followed a few feet behind.
The hallway was dead silent. There were no footsteps or voices. Just the low hum of the elevator and the clicking of lights overhead. Zayven approached the door, holding the gun low, his finger on the trigger.
I crouched behind the entry table, heart lodged in my throat. The elevator dinged, and he lifted the gun, aiming it straight at the opening.
doors. They slid open with a slow hiss. And I saw his face drain out of all colors.