Ellie nods, her face pale but resolute. I reach into the glove compartment and pull out a glock.
“A gun?”
“I told you I’d protect you.”
I check my phone—the police are en route but still ten minutes out. “Remember, we just need to stall.”
We move through the trees, keeping low. The boathouse comes into view—weathered gray wood, half-collapsed roof, windows broken long ago. A car I don’t recognize is parked near the entrance.
“That’s Miles’s car,” Ellie whispers.
We approach through a broken window. I catch a glimpse of movement inside. Miles, slumped in a chair, hands behind his back. Blood trickles from his temple.
Rick paces in front of him, a hunting knife glinting in his hand. My stomach knots at the sight.
“Wait here,” I whisper to Ellie.
“No.” She grips my arm. “Together, remember?”
I hesitate, then nod. “Stay behind me.”
“Your time’s almost up, Miles. Think she’ll show? Or has she written you off completely?”
Miles’s reply is muffled, but defiant. I signal to Ellie to stay in the shadows as we edge closer.
“She’ll come,” Rick continues, twirling the knife. “She still feels responsible for you. It’s her greatest weakness—caring too much about people who don’t deserve it.”
My palm sweats against the grip of the gun.
“I’m here, Rick.” Ellie steps forward before I can stop her, her voice steady despite her fear. “Let Miles go.”
Rick spins around, his face splitting into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Right on time. Always so punctual.”
I step out beside her, gun raised. “It’s over, Rick. Police are on their way.”
His eyes narrow, focusing on me with cold calculation. “The neighbor. How sweet. Did she tell you about us, about what we had?”
“There was never an ‘us’,” Ellie says. “You were my boss. That’s all.”
Rick’s laugh is hollow. “Is that what you told him? That I was just some creep who couldn’t take rejection? Tell him about the late nights, Ellie.
“The manipulation,” she counters. “The threats when I wouldn’t sleep with you.”
Miles groans, struggling against his restraints. Blood has dried in a dark streak down his face, but his eyes are alert now, fixed on Ellie with a mixture of fear and regret.
“Untie him,” I demand, keeping the gun steady.
Rick ignores me, focused entirely on Ellie. “You look good. Prison gave me plenty of time to remember every detail about you. The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re nervous. Like now.”
Her hand drops quickly from her ear. “What do you want, Rick? Really?”
“What I’ve always wanted.” He takes a step toward her. “You. Us. A second chance.”
“There’s no second chance,” I interject. “Put down the knife.”
His eyes flick to me, dismissive. “This isn’t about you.”
“It is now,” I reply. “I’m making it about me.”
