Chapter 10: The Rook's Return
The adrenaline from my standoff with Silas bled away, leaving me shivering and soaked in the alley. The victory felt hollow. I was safe, for now, but I was also exposed. I needed to get off the street, but the bookstore—my sanctuary—felt contaminated. Liana's perfume seemed to linger in the air, a toxic cloud of her presence.
I needed a different kind of shelter. Not a hiding place, but a port in a storm. A place where no one would think to look for a Sullivan pawn… or a player.
There was only one place.
The walk there was a blur of rain and cold. I found myself in front of a familiar, slightly run-down brownstone. A light was on in the third-floor apartment. Dr. Ben Carter's apartment. My old mentor. The man who had unknowingly stopped me from making the worst mistake of this new life.
I stood there, hesitating. Showing up on his doorstep, drenched and desperate, was a risk. It was a connection, a thread that could be pulled if Silas looked too closely. But the memory of his kindness in the pharmacy, his steadying hand, overruled my paranoia. I needed to see a friendly face. I needed to remember that not every man in my life was a predator.
I rang the bell.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs inside, and the door swung open. Ben stood there, dressed in a worn sweater and corduroys, a book in his hand. His eyes widened in shock when he saw me.
"Elara? My God, child, you're soaked through! Get in here, now." He didn't ask questions. He simply ushered me inside, his concern a tangible, warm thing in the dim foyer.
He led me up to his apartment, a cozy space that smelled of old books, pipe tobacco, and chicken soup. It was the antithesis of the Sullivan mansion—lived-in, warm, and real.
"Here," he said, handing me a thick, wool blanket and a mug of steaming tea. "Get out of those wet things. You can borrow some of my daughter's old clothes; she left a box here." He gestured to a door. "Bathroom's there. I'll… I'll just be here."
His old-fashioned chivalry, his immediate, no-strings-attached care, was so alien it brought a lump to my throat. I changed into a pair of soft sweatpants and an old university sweatshirt that smelled faintly of lavender. When I emerged, he had a bowl of soup waiting for me on the coffee table.
"Now," he said gently, taking a seat in his worn armchair. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"
And so, I told him a version of the truth. I told him about Kaelen's instability, his addictions. I told him about the pressure, the feeling of being trapped in a gilded cage. I told him I'd left, that I was hiding, and that powerful people were making it difficult. I left out the time travel, the pregnancy, and the night with Silas. I painted a picture of a vulnerable woman fleeing an abusive relationship, which wasn't entirely a lie.
He listened patiently, his kind face growing graver with each word. When I finished, he sighed, a heavy, weary sound. "Oh, Elara. I warned you about that family. There's a darkness there." He leaned forward, his eyes earnest. "You have to go to the police. Get a restraining order."
"It's not that simple, Ben," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "The Sullivans… the law is a tool they use, not something that protects you from them."
He was silent for a moment, studying me. He could see I was holding back, but he didn't push. "Then what will you do?"
Before I could answer, a key turned in the lock of the apartment door.
Ben smiled. "Ah, that'll be Alex. Just in time."
The door opened and a man walked in, shaking rain from his leather jacket. He was tall, with the broad shoulders of a athlete gone slightly to seed, kind eyes the color of rich earth, and a five o'clock shadow that couldn't hide a strong, dependable jaw. He had a bag of groceries in one arm and a easy, relaxed smile on his face that vanished the second he saw me.
His eyes locked onto mine, and a jolt of recognition—and something else, something deep and unguarded—passed over his features.
"Elara?"
Alex Carter. Ben's son. My… what? We'd been in the same pre-med program years ago. He'd been the star quarterback who'd actually been smart, the golden boy with a crush on the quiet, scholarship-funded nerd who spent her Friday nights in the library. Me.
We'd gone on a few dates. They'd been sweet, uncomplicated. He'd been kind and funny, and he'd looked at me like I'd hung the moon. But then I'd met Kaelen Sullivan. Kaelen with his tragic beauty, his magnetic darkness, his promise of a life so far from my own struggles. I'd chosen the inferno over the warm hearth. I'd broken Alex's heart with a clumsy, cruel efficiency, too enamored with my new, shiny life to care about the good man I was leaving behind.
"Alex," I breathed, my face flushing with a heat that had nothing to do with the blanket. I was suddenly, painfully aware of my borrowed clothes, my bare face, my vulnerable state.
"I… I didn't know you were here," he said, setting the groceries down slowly. His voice was deeper than I remembered, but the warmth in it was the same.
"Elara's going through a tough time," Ben said, ever the peacemaker. "Needed a place to dry off."
Alex's gaze swept over me, taking in the picture I made: small, lost, hiding in his father's apartment. The concern in his eyes was immediate and genuine, with no trace of the old hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking a step closer.
The simple, direct question undid me. Tears I didn't know I was still capable of welled up in my eyes. I looked away, embarrassed.
"I'll, uh, I'll just go put these away," Ben said tactfully, grabbing the groceries and retreating to the kitchen, giving us a semblance of privacy.
Alex moved to the couch, sitting not too close, but within reach. "Hey," he said softly. "Whatever it is. You're safe here."
The kindness was a dagger to my heart. I had thrown this away. I had chosen a man who would eventually burn me alive over this solid, decent human being.
"I'm so sorry, Alex," I whispered, the words tearing from me. "For how I ended things. It was… I was…"
He shook his head, a sad smile touching his lips. "You don't have to apologize. We were kids. You followed your path." He looked at me, his gaze intense. "It led you here, though. Back to my dad's couch, looking like you've lost a fight with a hurricane. So, if it's okay… I'd like to know what's going on. Maybe I can help."
And in that moment, the loneliness and the fear and the sheer weight of my impossible mission cracked something open inside me. I looked into his warm, honest eyes, and I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to lay my head on his shoulder and let someone else be strong for just five minutes.
It was the most dangerous temptation I had faced yet. More dangerous than Silas, more dangerous than Liana. Because Alex Carter represented a life I could have had. A normal life. A good life. And letting him in, even for a second, threatened to unravel the cold, vengeful creature I had become.
I wanted it so badly it physically ached.
But I couldn't. My path was set. It was drenched in blood and fire and led through the heart of the Sullivan empire. I could not drag this good man into my nightmare.
I pulled the blanket tighter around me, building a fortress between us. "It's complicated, Alex. And I can't… I can't involve you. It's not safe."
The light in his eyes dimmed slightly, but he didn't push. He just nodded. "Okay. The offer stands. No questions asked."
Ben returned from the kitchen, breaking the tense silence. We fell into stilted, polite conversation, avoiding the giant, bleeding hole in the middle of the room. Alex told me he was a physical therapist now, working with injured athletes. He had a life. A good one.
After an hour, the rain had stopped. I knew I had to go. I couldn't stay here, poisoning their warm, safe world with my darkness.
"I should go," I said, standing up. "Thank you, Ben. For everything."
"Anytime, my dear. Anytime," he said, pulling me into a fatherly hug.
Alex walked me to the door. "Where will you go?" he asked, his voice thick with concern.
"I'll be okay," I lied. "I have a place."
He searched my face, and I could see he didn't believe me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "This is my cell. Not my work number. My personal one. If you need anything. Anything. Day or night. You call me."
I took the card. It felt warm from his pocket. It felt like a lifeline to a world I had forfeited.
"Thank you, Alex," I said, my voice cracking.
I turned and walked down the stairs, feeling his gaze on my back until I was out on the street. The cold night air hit me, but I felt a different kind of chill. The chill of a door closing.
I had faced down a monster today and won. But seeing Alex, being offered a glimpse of the man I could have loved, of the life I could have had… that felt like a loss so profound I didn't know how to quantify it.
I looked down at the card in my hand. A new piece was on the board. A rook from a forgotten game. And I had no idea what move to make with him.