Cam
Go time.
Everything’s in place.
Maddy helped take the edge off yesterday—just happened to be passing through between flights and apparently just as feral for connection as I was. Now? I’m clear-headed, focused, and ready.
Talia’s in position with the team, and now it’s all eyes on me.
I kill the engine three streets back, nestle the car into a small space on the street like it’s hiding too, and pull my hood up.
Darcy steps out of the gym in full effortless just-worked-out mode—crop top, leggings, hair twisted into that careless topknot like danger doesn’t touch her.
I slip into the shadows along the shopfronts, a spectre waiting for chaos.
This is it.
My moment.
The start of the end.
She has no idea how close this is to her. No clue how badly this could go. Just waltzing along like she’s untouchable—no glance over her shoulder, no awareness that someone might be watching, following, planning to take her.
I sweep the area, scanning for a black SUV. Something idle but ready. The kind that can lurch forward in seconds. But for now, nothing. The street’s clear. Too clear.
She takes her usual path—down by the canal steps—and that’s when I see them. Figures in my periphery. Just flickers in the dark, but unmistakable. Shadows with intent. The car must be tucked deeper in the trees, out of range—but one of them is gaining on her.
In a breath, I’ve got the dart gun out of my pack and raised. From between two buildings, I track him through the gloom. Breath steady, shoulders squared. Darcy’s already pulling ahead, dissolving into the dark.
If I’m going to stop this, it has to be now.
There are three of them, I think—two on foot and a driver lingering just out of view. I’ve got four darts. One spare. It’ll have to be enough.
I flick the safety off, finger tightening on the trigger. But before I can release, a sickening jolt smashes into the side of my skull—white-hot pain, sharp and sudden—sending me reeling into the wall. Another strike follows just as ruthless.
My vision tilts, sliding out of focus as the men vanish into the dark, Darcy along with them—slipping through my fingers, just like before.
Warmth trickles down my temple. Blood, probably. I twist, struggling to spot who hit me—but before I can even brace, another blow crashes into my head, clean and final.
The world folds in on itself.
Black.
10
Nell
Holy fuckballs!
I got him!
I actually did it.
Darcy said she’d come back to help—but ten minutes have passed and her phone’s gone straight to voicemail.
Maybe she got spooked, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got this. I’ll get him strapped in, back at my place, and then she can come face to face with stalker boy.
Face to bruised face.
