Chapter 9

Backdraft

This isn't who I am. I don't make small talk or hash things out. Plans are for people with time to waste. I live by my own rules, fueled by adrenaline and instinct. But as I stare into her pleading eyes, I wish I could show her a different side of myself. One that's gentle and patient.

I drag my hand through my hair, ruffling the strands in frustration. I know I have to try for her or I'll regret it later. With a deep breath, I drag her down with me so we're sitting side by side on the worn-out couch. "We lay low for now and wait for backup."

"What if backup doesn't come?" Her voice is near a tremble.

"It will," I try to reassure her, even though I can't be sure of it without a signal. "As long as I have my phone, my club should be able to track me. In the meantime, I'll see if I can get that old truck out front started."

She gives a hesitant nod, but I can feel the tension in her body, every muscle tightly wound like a spring. Is she afraid they'll come after us and try to take her back? Or is she afraid of me?

"My name is Dax Shaw." I keep my voice low.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts. We watch the fire dance against the darkness, listening to it crackle and pop. As I steal a glance at her, I see the tension in her body slowly ease. She nestles closer to me, trusting and vulnerable. Without hesitation, I wrap my arm around her, pulling her even closer. The simple gesture is something I've never offered anyone before but somehow it feels right. When her head hits my shoulder, I don't move. I focus on her slow and steady breathing as she rests in my arms.

As I close my eyes, I can still see the bright orange flames of the fire dancing in my mind, a constant reminder of what I did. I see the smoke rising and the outlines of the trees and the house engulfed in the inferno.

I walk as one with the flames, moving towards them without fear or guilt. The flames stretch out like long fingers clawing and grabbing onto everything in its reach. The heat sears my skin, but I don't turn back. I can't. Not now. I need to see it. I need to see him.

With each step, my anger melds with the raging flames. I am consumed by the fierce embrace of the flames that lick at my skin, leaving trails of heat searing through me. The fire stretches out like a beast, its fiery fingers clawing at everything in its reach. It devours everything in its path with a hungry roar, but I do not fear it. Instead, I am drawn towards it, driven by a desperate need to see him. My determination is unyielding as I push forward, driven by an unexplainable force. And then I see him. Our eyes meet in a moment of understanding. That I am the cause. I am the reason fear drowns the usual rage that darkens his eyes and the flesh melts from his skin. His screams are silenced by the roaring inferno that crackles and roars around us. Its bright orange and red hues dance wildly. The air is thick with smoke and the sharp scent of burning wood. The corners of my lips draw upward as I stand amid the flames watching it consume him, reducing him to bone and ash.

My eyes snap open, my heart pounding with a ferocity that threatens to burst through my chest. The image of the man, the monster, sears into my mind as I gasp for air. My very being, twisted and corrupted by the touch of his memory, still bears the scars of his evil. And long after I've wiped away the sleep from my eyes, his final moments play on an endless loop in my mind. Even now, as I hold Zoey in my arms, I can still see the fear etched in his eyes, although it's been years since that moment. A moment that will always define who I am. A monster I have to constantly feed.

I steal a look at Zoey sleeping soundly in my arms, her innocence a light against the darkness within me. Having her body so close to mine awakens emotions I never knew existed, stirring a primal desire that both thrills and terrifies me. But I wonder how long it'll be until she realizes the truth about me and runs away in terror like all the others before her.

My muscles coil under my skin at the thought of losing her. Restlessness grasps hold of me like I need to keep moving or else I'll explode. I carefully slide out from under her, gently laying her head on the cushions of the couch. With long, determined strides, I eat up the tiny space between rooms. As I make my way through the cabin, the floorboards creak beneath my feet echoing in the quiet. I cast a glance over to the couch, reassured that she was still asleep, and continue my search for anything usable. I finally come across a dusty duffel bag wedged under the foot of the bed. With a grunt, I drag it out and work the zipper open. Inside is a jackpot. Thumbing through the items, I find flashlights with still-functional batteries, knives, flares, and various tools that could come in handy. My mind quickly calculates their worth and determines my next move. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I flick on a flashlight.

Keeping the light away from Zoey's peaceful face, I slip out of the cabin. Stepping into the night air, I secure the door with a chain to keep her safe until I return. I slip into the darkness, my movements calculated and silent. An indistinct trail that only my eyes can see, marked with subtle signs that even Zoey didn't notice I made. It guides me deeper into the woods, towards my destination. The spot I took her from. I'm determined to make sure they don't follow us and stop them one way or another. Every rustle in the underbrush sends a jolt of adrenaline through my body as I continue, my senses on high alert. The flashlight illuminates the path in front of me as my feet step into familiar footprints from earlier today. I picture Zoey clopping along behind me in my oversized boots and it makes me even more determined. My heart aches thinking about leaving her alone in that cabin, but I know I have to do this. Hours pass as I walk, my muscles growing tense with each minute that goes by. The faint sound of voices catches my attention.

"Tracks," I hear one voice say.

"On my way," crackles through the walkie-talkie in his hand.

Anger swells up inside of me that I was so careless. Our footprints will lead them right to us. To where I left Zoey sleeping. Alone and defenseless. Flicking off the beam of my flashlight, I creep into position. My feet slide silently through the mud as I creep up behind the man hunched over, studying the boot prints. My heart races with adrenaline as I bring my knife to his throat, dragging it across with precision. He gasps for air, his eyes widening in fear as he struggles against my hold. The metallic scent of blood fills the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of wet soil. I tighten my grip on his mouth and nose, hastening his death. When he finally falls still, I let him drop to the ground. Retrieving the walkie-talkie from the ground next to him, I tuck it into my belt. I admire my work before retrieving the rope from my bag. I twist it around his limp wrists, leaving enough slack for me to drag him along behind me.

The weight of his dead body is heavy as I haul him through the mud, erasing any trace of our presence. Dirt and blood cling to my clothes and skin, but I barely notice as adrenaline courses through my veins. Another obstacle removed. Another mission accomplished. This is the life I have chosen and there is no turning back.

My senses are on high alert as I move through the shadows, my body blending seamlessly with the darkness. Keeping my eyes trained for movement, I ready myself for another kill. My target is the man on the other end of the walkie. Reaching down to my side, I silence the volume and crouch down to wait. Every nerve is taut and ready for action as I scan the area for any signs of movement. I hear his heavy footsteps crunching over the rugged terrain, growing closer and closer before stopping directly in front of me. His gun is slung over his shoulder and his eyes scan the area with a sense of urgency. He has no idea that I am lurking in the darkness or that his partner lies dead at my feet. My grip tightens on my knife. With one swift movement, I lunge forward and wrap my arms around his neck from behind. Startled, he struggles against me, but I hold on tightly, cutting off his air supply. He reaches for his gun but it's too late. With one final twist of my knife, he falls to the ground at my feet. Blood seeps from the wound in his neck as I stand over him, panting heavily.

I quickly search their bodies for any weapons that could be useful before dragging them both deeper into the shadows and hiding them among the trees. With their bodies disposed of and no other signs of life nearby, I gather my things and disappear into the darkness. My mind is already planning my next move as my feet carry me toward my next destination.

As I approach, I slow down and carefully survey the area. My eyes scan for any signs of traps. Finding none, I release a sigh of relief and make my way to a large tree. I climb up, using branches as footholds until I reach a sturdy branch that overlooks the compound. From here, I have a clear view of its layout, more detailed than I originally had from my surveillance on the outskirts.

I study the grounds below me, focusing on the cluster of mid-sized wooden buildings that surround an elaborate, two-story home. It stands tall in the center, elevated above the rest. Its wraparound porch is embellished with hand carved railings running up the steps. From its large windows spills warm light, accentuated by overflowing flower boxes and potted plants that dot the porch and steps. The intricate details of the home make it seem almost alive and welcoming, not like the prison I know it to be. The one where Zoey has been held hostage for years. The thought of her being hidden away, forced to live a lie sends a fiery surge through my veins. She doesn't realize the danger she's in if anyone finds out about her true identity. She's a precious secret and it's my job now to keep her safe.

I lower myself to the ground and slip into the compound undetected. The night air is tense and still, but I move with quiet confidence. Dropping the bag to the ground with a soft thud, I quickly retrieve the flare gun and load it. Taking careful aim, I fire toward one of the surrounding buildings, the bright red flare whizzing through the air before embedding itself into the wall. A thundering boom echoes through the night, followed by frenzied voices and hurried footsteps. As planned, chaos erupts as everyone rushes towards the source of the explosion.

On the front steps of the center house stands the leader of the compound, Zoey's father and a man known for his ruthless tactics. The fury in his voice bellows above the confusion, demanding answers for which his men have none. I reach for my gun where it rests at my side. Taking him out would be a major blow to their operations but it's not the mission. I swallow back the blood lust and focus on what I came here to do. He stomps down the stairs, leaving his sanctuary unattended. My steps are silent as I approach the main building. Blending into the darkness as I slip through the door. I pause and listen for any signs of movement inside but there are no voices or footsteps. Cautiously, I climb the stairs two at a time toward the second floor.

I navigate through a maze of rooms and corridors until I finally reach a bedroom at the end of the hallway. Zoey's room. I know before I even step inside, her presence pulling me.

Her delicate perfume hangs in the air, instantly calming my racing heart. I take a deep breath, savoring every note of her intoxicating fragrance. I work quickly, yanking clothes from hangers and stuffing them into the bag. Bending low to the closet floor, I grab a pair of sneakers and boots. As I stand up to move to the dresser, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and pause. My face is streaked with mud, but it does little to hide the burns and scars that mark my skin. The blood of the men I killed stains me like a permanent reminder of my sins. I am a monster, unworthy of someone as pure and innocent as Zoey. Guilt weighs heavily on my heart as I continue to pack her things, knowing she deserves someone better than me.

Unable to look at myself in the mirror for another second, I tear my eyes away and rummage through her dresser drawers. My hands frantically grab everything I can and shove them into the bag. As my fingers brush against the soft fabric, I pause to look at what I found. I picture the silky thong in my hand hanging on her hips. A jolt of heat shoots through my body and my cock tightens against the zipper of my jeans. Memories flood my mind of the last time I had her panties in my hands. With a twisted grin playing on my lips, I drop the delicate fabric into the bag along with others. I can't think about her like this, especially not now but I can't stop myself. The thought of her innocent smile and the seductive curves of her body consumes me. I shake my head to clear the distracting thoughts from my mind and continue packing. I don't have a lot of time.

Quickly, I move to her nightstand and swipe the books and personal belongings into the bag when something catches my eye. A framed photo of Zoey as a young child and a woman who I assume is her mother. The woman's eyes are clouded with secrets as the two smile at the camera with their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. I carefully set the photo in the bag and zip it closed.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoes up the stairs, signaling that my time here is running out. I open the window and shimmy over the narrow ledge and down the side disappearing into the darkness where Zoey will be lost to him forever.