Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“You don’t need to be,” he replies gently. “It was my job. I did what I had to do to keep people safe. Still… it changes you.”
Our eyes lock for a moment, a shared understanding that life can be cruel, and choices aren’t always easy. Maybe that’s why he’s so protective now, I think. He knows what real danger looks like.
I clear my throat, returning my attention to the shoebox. Inside, I find another small Polaroid—just Jason alone, leaning against a car. I pluck it out, grimacing at the memory of how that day ended in a shouting match because I took too long talking to a friend. He always found a reason to be angry. I hand it to Orion wordlessly.
He slips it into an envelope, and I turn to check if there’s anything else worth taking. A second later, a faint noise pricks my ears—a crunch or a scrape from outside. My entire body goes rigid.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper, my eyes darting toward the window. It’s dark out, the streetlamp casting long shadows across the pavement.
Orion immediately goes on alert. His posture straightens, and he sets the envelope down, placing a finger to his lips to signal for silence. My heart thuds painfully. I watch him cross to the light switch, flicking it off to keep us hidden from whoever might be outside. The sudden darkness in the room sends my senses into overdrive; every little sound seems amplified.
“Lock this door behind me,” he whispers, nodding toward the bedroom door. “Stay put.”
My voice trembles, but I manage to speak. “Be careful.”
He offers a tight smile, then reaches behind his back. To my shock, he pulls a gun from under his jacket. The faint metallic gleam catches the dim light coming from the hallway. My stomach drops. Of course he’s armed. He’s my bodyguard, I remind myself, but seeing the weapon in his hands drives home the seriousness of the situation.
Orion edges into the hallway, moving silently. I peer around the doorway, heart hammering. “Lock the door,” he repeats, motioning with his hand. Reluctantly, I close the door and twist the flimsy bedroom lock with a click. It feels woefully inadequate to keep out any real threat, but it’s all I have.
Adrenaline surges through me as I listen for sounds of struggle or confrontation. My ears strain, picking up only the pounding of my own heart. I inch closer to the window, careful not to expose myself, and peek outside. The yard is dark, illuminated only by the glow of a distant streetlight. A silhouette flickers at the brink of my vision. I yank my head back, pulse skyrocketing. Is that Jason? My entire body trembles.
Seconds tick by like hours. I hear the distant sound of Orion’s footsteps, a creak of the back door. A hush falls, broken only by a muffled rustling outside. My imagination runs wild. Could it be a raccoon? A neighbor out late? Or is it Jason, lurking, waiting for the chance to catch me alone?
The door to my bedroom rattles softly. I nearly jump out of my skin until I realize it’s Orion. I scramble to unlock it. He steps inside, still holding the gun at his side. He’s breathing a bit heavier, but he looks composed.
“I checked the perimeter,” he says quietly, eyes flicking around the room to be sure we’re still secure. “No sign of anyone. Might’ve been a stray cat or an animal rummaging around.”
I let out a long, shaky exhale, relief washing over me in a dizzying wave. “God, I’m paranoid,” I mutter, though a part of me isn’t sure if it really was an animal or if he’s just trying to spare me the worry.
Orion lifts a hand, gently resting it on my shoulder. “You’re not paranoid. You’ve got every reason to be uneasy. But I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
I look up, my gaze snagging on the gun in his hand. Swallowing hard, I nod. “Thank you.”
He slips the weapon back into its holster, hidden beneath his jacket. His presence calms me in a way I can’t quite explain, like an anchor in a storm. Finally, he looks around the room, exhaling slowly. “Let’s finish up here. The sooner we’re out, the better.”
I agree. We gather the last few items—letters, random scribblings Jason once left in my mailbox. Each piece feels like a fragment of a nightmare I desperately want to forget, but I remind myself it’s important to have this evidence. The legal system thrives on proof, after all.
When we’re done, Orion carefully packs the items into a small envelope. I linger by the bedroom window, still peering through the narrow gap in the curtains. The parking lot remains empty, the shadows still. My heart rate finally starts to settle, though an unsettling residue of fear clings to me like a stubborn stain.