Kaiden
Fear has a smell.
Not many people know that, because they haven't smelled it enough to recognize it.
But I have.
I'm used to being feared.
Sometimes even addicted to it.
There's only one person I never wanted to fear me—only one person I'd never hurt.
And she's looking at me with that exact emotion.
Her soft vanilla scent is laced with fear.
Her blue eyes hold a storm.
I take one step into the room; she takes two back. Her gaze doesn't leave mine, like she's staring a predator.
When I take another step, she moves until her back hits the wall.
But I don't stop until there's only a few inches between us.
"Why did you run from me?" I ask calmly, trying to mask the rage that's been burning inside me since the house security called.
"Back off, or I'll scream," she says, trying to sound brave—but I see the way her hands tremble.
"Nobody will come," I say, my voice sharper now. "What the hell were you thinking staying in a place like this? This shitty hotel, in the worst part of town. Aren't you afraid for your life?"
My rage grows with every word.
"You're more dangerous to me than anyone here," she says softly—almost like she's finally accepting it as truth.
My heart pounds.
Did she find out?
What does she know?
When I first got the call from the house security, I thought she was just upset about something small—something I did without noticing.
Maybe I forgot a promise.
Maybe it's because I've been coming home late lately.
But when her location signal started moving further and further away, I knew something was wrong.
Still, it's hard to believe she knows everything.
She looks more hurt than angry.
If she truly knew, she'd kill me without blinking.
"What do you mean by that?" I ask, testing her tone, trying to understand how much she's figured out—how deep the damage runs.
Before she can answer, a gunshot echoes from the first floor.
The sound freezes us both.
One second of silence. Two.
Then I move. Instinct.
I grab her wrist, pull her behind me. She flinches at my touch—the same touch she used to lean into.
"Stay here," I order, voice low, steady. She doesn't move.
"Kaiden—"
"I said stay."
Her lips part—maybe to argue, maybe to beg.
But I don't wait.
I open the door, scanning the hallway. The cheap light flickers above us, buzzing like a dying fly. The air smells like mold and fear.
Another shot.
Closer this time.
Not random.
Someone knows we're here.
I glance back at her. Her hair's still damp from the shower, the thin sleep dress clinging to her skin, bare feet against the cold floor. She looks fragile. Breakable.
I grab the trench coat hanging on the door and toss it toward her, pointing to the pair of shoes by the bed.
"Wear it," I say. My voice comes out rougher than I intend.
She doesn't move. Just stares at me with wide eyes, frozen.
"Now," I bark.
That makes her move. Her fingers fumble with the coat, trembling as she slips her feet into the shoes.
Another shot tears through the silence—this one followed by a scream downstairs.
One of my men.
"Stay behind me."
I pull the gun from my holster and open the door again, moving fast down the narrow hallway. The carpet muffles my steps; hers don't. She's right behind me, breathing fast—the sound of it pulls something dark and protective inside me.
At the corner, I see two of my men sprawled on the floor near the stairs—blood pooling beneath them.
My jaw tightens.
We were ambushed. Someone was waiting for us.
A shadow moves at the end of the corridor—too fast. I shove her against the wall, pressing my hand over her mouth right before a bullet slices through the air where her head was a second ago.
"Stay down!" I whisper, turning and firing two shots back. A grunt. A thud. Then silence.
I grab her hand and pull her with me, rushing down the back stairs toward the exit. My shoulder burns—a sharp, sudden sting.
I look down. Blood.
"Kaiden, you're bleeding—"
She's calling me *Kaiden* again. Not *Kane*.
Does she know everything?
"Keep moving," I growl. "It's nothing."
We burst through the back door, the night air cold against our skin. The street is empty except for the black car parked at the corner. My driver's slumped over the wheel, blood on his shirt.
Fuck.
I yank the door open and shove her inside. Another shot hits the car frame—sparks flying. There must be a shooter on the roof. I fire back once, twice, then jump in and slam the door.
"You can't drive, you're shot!" she says, panic in her voice.
The pain hits harder now, spreading through my side.
I grab her hand and shove the keys toward her. "Then you drive."
She hesitates for a second, staring at me like she doesn't believe what's happening, then slams her foot on the pedal. The tires screech, the hotel fading in the rearview mirror as the city lights blur.
I press my hand over the wound, blood seeping through my fingers. She keeps glancing at me, her breathing uneven, tears threatening to fall.
"Where do I go?" she asks.
"Somewhere safe," I say between breaths. "Drive north. Keep going until I tell you to turn. Don't stop. No matter what."
Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel. The silence between us is thick—filled with all the things we never said.
Outside, the rain starts to fall again.
Inside, she drives through the night with the man she tried to escape.
I take off my shirt, trying to assess the damage. I can't help but grunt.
She takes her eyes off the road to stare at me.
"I'll take you to the hospital, you're not okay." She's panicking now.
"Calm down. Don't take your eyes off the road. They'll start chasing us—we need distance."
I grab my phone and call for help. As soon as he answers, I go straight to business.
"I've been shot. I'm heading to your house. I need a doctor and security on the main road—they're chasing us."
As if summoned by my words, a dark SUV appears in the rearview mirror.
"On it," the voice on the other end says, alert even at dawn.
"Turn right," I order. The SUV gets closer. They start to shoot.
The first bullet hits the back window. Glass shatters, raining over us.
She screams but doesn't stop. Another shot—this time aimed low.
The tire explodes.
The car jerks sideways, spinning out of control.
"Hold on!" I shout, grabbing the wheel, but it's too late.
The car crashes into a tree with a violent crack.
The world tilts—metal screams, glass breaks—
Then everything goes black.