Deeper

7. Who are you?

••••••••Brooklyn••••••••

"What happened to you, Josh? I can't help you if you don't tell me," I pleaded, trying to reach him.

"I told you—I'll handle it myself. This is none of your concern, Brooklyn. Go back to your office and leave me the f**k alone," he snapped, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard before.

I left quietly, closing my office door behind me, then made myself an extra-strong cup of coffee.

What the actual f**k just happened? Since when did he become such a d**k?

I gulped down the coffee and stuffed my face with pretzels, trying to shove Mr. Grumpy out of my mind and focus on work. I shut the blinds, played some music, and began sorting through papers.

**••••••••Josh••••••••**

What the hell was I thinking, going to Monica? I thought setting boundaries would help—but it only made things worse. Much worse.

I don’t even want to think about the people I had to take out on my way out.

This just reminds me how dangerous it all is. How much I need to keep Brooklyn close—safe.

Better for her to hate me than to end up dead.

For now, I’m going to give her space. Only talk when I absolutely have to. She must still be furious at me. I understand—she only wanted to help.

Monica isn’t the only one after Brooklyn. There are others. More dangerous people.

And I still don’t understand why. Sure, she’s reckless, smart, beautiful—everything you’d want—but there’s something more to her. Something I can’t explain.

My phone buzzed. I answered without hesitation.

“Mr. Josh Miller speaking.”

“Mr. Miller, this is Antonio. I found some information on the village you were looking into last month. It’s... unusual. Better if we discuss it in person. Can I schedule a meeting for later today or tomorrow?”

“Antonio, I’m not in the best mood. If this is bad news, come tomorrow and spare us both,” I said quietly.

“It’s not bad news, sir, but it is disturbing. I’ll explain soon.”

I ended the call and sighed deeply.

Maybe this will finally help me understand Brooklyn—and the strange pull I feel toward her. The village always felt off, but this might explain why.

I stood and walked to her office, ready to apologize.

She was on the couch, scarfing pretzels and nursing a coffee like it was a lifeline.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," I said, standing by her desk, my head low.

She smiled softly. "It’s okay, Josh. I just want to help. But I can’t if you don’t let me."

She held out a pretzel. “Want one?”

“No thanks. I don’t eat pretzels.”

“What? You don’t eat pretzels? There’s definitely something wrong with you!” she teased, pulling the pretzel back and hugging it like a stuffed animal, shooting me a playful glare.

She always knows how to crack a smile from me.

I settled onto the couch beside her and asked the question that had been gnawing at me.

“Brook, what do you know about your parents?”

She hesitated. “Not much. My grandmother told me they both passed away when I was very young. My mom died soon after I was born... my grandmother said it was because of some trauma. My dad... he disappeared. I don’t know what really happened to either of them.”

I watched her closely, the vulnerability in her eyes pulling at something deep inside me.

“My grandmother left the village after all that. Said it was safer for me to grow up outside, away from the village and its secrets.”

I nodded slowly. “So your mother and grandmother are from the village?”

“Yes. Both of them,” she said, nibbling another pretzel. “I never really understood why Gran left. She just said the village is different—dangerous in ways outsiders don’t see. That it wasn’t a place for me.”

I felt a strange warmth spread inside me—the pull, the connection growing stronger. It was more than just caring. I couldn’t explain it yet, but it was real.

I reached out and took her hand gently.

“We’ll figure this out together. I want to know everything about you—what you don’t know, too.”

She looked down at our hands, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Do you feel it too?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I don’t know what it is... but it’s real. We’re connected in a way I can’t explain.”

“Then we’ll find out what it means—together.”