The rain fell gently, soaking my clothes as I stood in front of my apartment. The cool droplets clung to my skin, but I didn't care. My thoughts were a chaotic mess, swirling in the aftermath of the last few months.
Losing my mother broke me. Since then, I stopped expecting anything good to last. I learned to survive on my own—going to work, paying my bills, getting through each day without falling apart.
Life had become a blur of days, and I had forgotten what it felt like to just stand still, to let my thoughts rest.
A faint hum of an engine, brought me back to reality, and all at once, my chest tightened as the past came rushing forward—too fast, too sudden. I didn't want to turn, didn't want to acknowledge what I already knew was coming. But my body moved without my consent, my feet rooted to the ground as I waited for the inevitable. The voice I had spent months avoiding was about to break through the silence.
"Janica."
I felt the world around me fade, the rain, the sound of the city, all of it just disappearing as the weight of that voice settled over me. My heart raced, a mix of fear and longing, but most of all, confusion.
I had convinced myself that I was past it, past him, but standing there in the cold, with his voice pulling me back into a past I wasn't sure I was ready to face. I realized just how wrong I had been.
Jason stood in the rain, drenched in a dark suit, his hair plastered to his forehead. He looked like a man torn between regret and resolve—beautiful in a way that could ruin you. And once, he had.
"Hey. You got a minute?"
His voice hit me like a punch to the gut. There he was, standing in the downpour, eyes locked onto mine. That same intensity, that same heat—but now, something else—colder. Haunted.
My breath caught. My arms folded over my chest, not from the cold, but from instinct. From defense. My fingers curled into the sleeves of my coat as if they might hold me together.
"You've got a lot of nerve showing up after everything, Jason," I said. My voice cracked, trembling despite every effort to hold it steady.
He didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Just stood there, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry."
I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound that didn't quite reach my eyes. Shifting my weight, I tilted my head, studying him closely. "You promised you'd come back... and then you just disappeared. You think I want to see you after that?"
"I didn't mean for it to happen like that. Please, just hear me out."
My hands dropped to my sides, fingers twitching at my thighs. "I don't want to hear them," I snapped. I felt my jaw tighten, lips pressed into a thin line. The tremor in my voice wasn't from the cold. It was from everything I'd buried. And him standing there like a ghost I didn't summon ripped it all open again.
Jason stepped closer, and my spine straightened. My fists clenched at my sides. His gaze softened, just a shade, but there was something wild behind his eyes. "I couldn't stay away anymore."
My lips parted, but no words came at first. I took a shaky breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why now? Why come back and stir up everything you left behind?"
His jaw ticked. "Because they're after me, Janica. And you're already involved. Whether you like it or not."
My stomach dropped. My arms wrapped around me, tighter this time. "What are you talking about?"
Jason's eyes darted toward the street. He shifted, positioning his body between me and the road. "You don't know it yet, but you're in danger. They know about you. And they won't stop until they get what they want."
"Danger?" The word barely left my lips. I took a shaky step back. "What kind of danger?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pulled out his phone, tapped quickly, and held it out. I hesitated, then glanced at the screen.
I stopped breathing.
Messages. Threats. Photos—of me. One outside my apartment. Another at the cafe. A third… on the bus. I hadn't even noticed.
My hand flew to my mouth, fingers trembling. "Who… who are these people?"
"Enemies. Our enemies," Jason said, his voice low, like it weighed more than he could carry. "And now they know everything. They know you."
I took another step back, stumbling on the uneven curb. I hugged myself tighter, like I could somehow disappear into my coat. "This can't be real. I never signed up for any of this."
"You don't get to drag me into your mess, Jason," I said, my voice rising, barely holding back the panic. "I've already lost enough. My mother. My peace. I'm not about to lose anything else because of you."
His face shifted—a moment of guilt flashed in his eyes, gone before I could hold on to it.
"I'm not asking for forgiveness," he said quietly. "I'm asking for trust. Just for a little while. Let me fix this."
Tears stung the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away, jaw tight, throat burning. "I can't trust you," I whispered. "Not after everything."
Jason's expression hardened. "Calm down."
I flinched. My arms dropped, fists clenched, but before I could say a word, a car screeched to a halt at the curb.
My entire body tensed.
Jason stepped forward, shielding me without hesitation. His arm shot out, grabbing mine, pulling me behind him like a shield rising against a wave. His back pressed to my front, warm and solid.
Two men stepped out of the car. Suits. Cold stares. Calculating silence.
My legs threatened to buckle, but I stayed behind him, breath stuck in my throat. My hand unconsciously gripped his jacket.
Jason's shoulders squared. 'Stay behind me,' he said, voice like stone.
I could barely speak, chest rising and falling with sharp, shallow breaths.
'Who are they?' I whispered, barely audible.
Jason didn't answer. I could feel his focus on the men, the weight of his attention locked on them, like a predator sizing up its prey.
The silence stretched.
Then, one of them spoke.
"Mr. Jason," the man said, his voice laced with mock amusement. 'You've been a hard man to find.'
My pulse thundered.
''We'll take care of this,''the man added, his smile cruel.
Jason didn't blink. His arm stayed locked around my waist, his body coiled with tension.
The man who had spoken took a deliberate step forward. His partner followed silent but alert. His sharp eyes scanned the street, then fixed on me.
Jason shifted, just a fraction, enough to place himself fully between me and the danger.
"This isn't your fight," Jason said, voice low, razor-edged.
The man smirked. "No. But she is."
The words landed like a slap.
She?
My body went still. My thoughts scattered.
Jason stiffened. "You touch her, you die."
The man chuckled darkly. "Still so protective. How sweet. But you should've known…" he paused, eyes cold, "there'd be consequences."
In a blur, Jason moved. Lightning-fast. One second, I was wrapped in his arms, the next he was across the pavement, slamming the man against the hood of the car.
"Speak again," Jason hissed, his voice like fire through clenched teeth, "and I'll break your jaw."
The other man reached for a glint of metal from his jacket.
A weapon.
My breath caught. "Jason—!"
He whirled, grabbed me, and shoved me behind the open car door. His eyes desperate and furious met mine for a split second. "Stay down!"
Then chaos erupted.
A metallic flash. A lunge. A bang.
The sound tore through the night like thunder. My ears rang. My heart dropped.
Someone had fired.
I couldn't see. The world became a smear of light and movement. My pulse screamed in my throat.
"Jason!"
No answer.
My knees hit the pavement as I pushed forward, scrambling toward the street.
Then I saw him.
Standing.
Breathing hard.
His shirt soaked in blood not his.
He turned to me slowly. His eyes blazed with something I didn't recognize—rage or fear twisted into something colder. "Go inside, Janica. Now." His voice wasn't a plea. It was a command.
I stood my ground. "I'm not leaving you—"
"I SAID GO!"
The final word cracked through the air like a whip. It silenced me. Not just his voice but the way his body tensed. The man I had fallen for, gentle, charming, careful with every word was gone. In his place stood someone dangerous. Hard. Deadly.
For a second, I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe. Then I saw his eyes shift past me.
"No," he whispered, more to himself than to me.
Before I could turn, before I could take one step—
A figure pushed up from behind the car. The second man. He wasn't down. He wasn't done.
His arm rose with mechanical determination, blood dripping from his side. He moved like death itself—
slow, inevitable. And in his hand: a gun. The barrel aimed straight at me.
Jason shouted.
The world tilted.
I couldn't scream. I couldn't duck. I couldn't think.
All I saw was his finger tightening around the trigger.
Time fractured. A second stretched into forever.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Jason's voice echoed behind me—raw, desperate.
My legs refused to move. My lungs refused to breathe.
And then—
The flash.
The sound.
Bang.
And then— Darkness.