My pulse is racing, my breaths shallow as I try to tug my arm away from Jaxon's unyielding grip. His fingers dig into my skin, cold and merciless. Every inch of my body screams to run, but there's no way around him. He's blocking every escape, his presence like a wall closing in on me.
"You really should've stayed out of this," Jaxon says, his voice low and dangerous. "But now you're caught in the middle, and there's no way out."
I try to calm my breathing, my thoughts scrambled. Stay calm, stay calm. Panic won't help me now. I glance around quickly, searching for any possible way to escape, but the alley is narrow, the walls too high, the path too constricted.
My gaze flickers back to Jaxon. His grin is still there, but there's something in his eyes—a dark gleam of satisfaction that sends a shiver down my spine.
"You know," he continues, tightening his grip even further, "this could've been easier. But you had to make things difficult, didn't you?"
I open my mouth to speak, but my throat is dry, words failing me for a moment. I can feel the weight of his words sinking in. This isn't just about me, or Max, or Liam. This is bigger, deeper, and I'm in the center of it.
I manage to force out a response, my voice shaky but firm. "What do you want from me?"
Jaxon's smirk falters for a second, but he quickly recovers. "I don't want anything from you, Amara. But others? They'll want much more."
The cold dread in his voice sends a chill through me. Others? Who is he talking about? What's really going on here?
I try to yank my arm free, but his grip is unrelenting. I know I won't be able to break free physically—he's stronger, faster, and more prepared for this than I am. The feeling of helplessness settles over me like a thick fog.
"You'll come with me," Jaxon says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're not finished here. And neither are you."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," I snap, my heart pounding. But I know my defiance is meaningless if I can't find a way to escape. "Let me go."
Jaxon's smile fades, and something colder, darker, takes its place. "You're not in control here. You never were."
Before I can react, I hear the sound of rapid footsteps approaching from behind. My heart leaps into my throat as I whirl around, desperate for some kind of intervention. The figure that emerges from the shadows isn't Max or Liam.
It's Vance.
"Jaxon, enough."
His voice is steady, but there's something in his eyes—something I can't place. Why is he here? Why is he stopping Jaxon? I thought he was with them, or worse, that he was the one pulling the strings.
Jaxon glances at Vance, his expression unreadable. He steps back slightly, but only enough to keep his grip on my wrist tight.
"Vance," Jaxon says, his voice dripping with disdain. "What's the matter? Getting soft?"
Vance doesn't flinch. He simply watches Jaxon, his face a mask of emotion I can't decipher. "I said enough," he repeats, his voice colder this time.
Jaxon's lips curl into a twisted grin. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Vance. We both know who's in charge here."
The tension between them crackles in the air, thick and suffocating. I can't believe this is happening—two people I thought I knew, standing at odds with each other, and I'm stuck in the middle, caught in their battle. My wrist is still trapped in Jaxon's grip, but Vance hasn't moved. He's staring at Jaxon, like he's waiting for something.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Vance speaks again, his voice tight with restraint.
"You can take her, Jaxon. But you won't get far."
The words catch me off guard. Take her? What does that mean? My stomach turns, and I try to pull away again, but Jaxon's grip is like iron.
"You think I'm afraid of you, Vance?" Jaxon scoffs. "You've already lost. She's already ours."
My head spins, the weight of his words crashing into me. Ours? Who is we? What is really going on here?
Without warning, Vance steps forward, moving faster than I can react. In one swift motion, he yanks me away from Jaxon's grasp. My heart races as I stumble back, but Vance keeps a firm hold on my arm, his grip no less tight than Jaxon's.
Jaxon growls in frustration, but Vance doesn't even flinch. "If you know what's good for you," Vance says, his voice low, "you'll walk away."
Jaxon hesitates, his eyes flicking between Vance and me. For a moment, it feels like the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for someone to make a move. Then, with a final glance at me, Jaxon lets out a mocking laugh.
"This isn't over, Amara. Not by a long shot."
And just like that, he turns and disappears into the shadows, his footsteps growing fainter with each passing second.
Vance doesn't relax his grip on my arm, his eyes scanning the alley with caution. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice softer now, though still filled with an edge I can't quite place.
I pull away from him, finally finding my voice. "What the hell is going on, Vance? Who are you? Who are they?"
Vance doesn't answer right away. He glances around one last time, as if making sure we're not being followed, before he steps closer. "You don't get it yet, Amara. This is bigger than us. But I'll explain everything... soon."
I want to scream at him, demand answers, but before I can say anything, he holds up a hand to stop me.
"Not here," he says. "It's not safe. Come with me."
And despite everything that's happened, despite the storm of confusion and fear swirling in my chest, something about the way he says it makes me hesitate. Do I trust him? Can I trust him?
But there's no choice. We're both in this, whether I want to be or not.