Chapter 9
904 Words
The ride took over an hour.
Kade’s motorcycle carved through the outskirts of the city, the hum of the engine vibrating against Alara’s back as she clung to him. Her cheek rested against his shoulder blade, the wind muffling everything but her heartbeat.
It wasn’t until the buildings gave way to trees, and the road turned to gravel, that she finally breathed deeply — like her lungs were remembering how.
Kade’s hideaway stood nestled between tall pines and overgrown brush, a small cabin with rusted gutters and moss-covered stone steps. It looked like a forgotten cottage from another time — but when he unlocked the door and led her inside, Alara was stunned.
It was beautiful in its quiet way.
Simple. Clean. Safe.
Dark wood floors, walls lined with old books and vintage records. A stone fireplace stood at the center like a guardian. One soft leather couch. One long, worn rug. The smell of cedar and ash.
“This is yours?” she whispered.
Kade nodded. “Built it up myself a few years ago. When I needed a place to disappear.”
She glanced around again. “It feels… untouched. Like time doesn't move here.”
He gave a small smile. “That was the point.”
---
That Evening
Alara sat cross-legged on the rug, sipping warm tea from a chipped mug. Kade knelt in front of the fireplace, coaxing flames to life with practiced ease. The room slowly filled with a soft, amber glow.
No buzzing phones.
No city lights.
No Jared.
Just firelight and breath and stillness.
Kade looked over his shoulder. “You okay?”
She nodded, but the answer was too easy. She set the mug down.
“Kade,” she said quietly, “I never told you everything about him.”
He turned to face her fully, brows furrowed. “You don’t have to.”
“I think I do.”
He sat across from her, elbows resting on his knees, eyes steady.
Alara hesitated, fingers twisting in her lap. “When we met, Jared was… charming. Ambitious. He ran a photography studio, said I was his muse. And I—I wanted to believe I mattered to someone like that.”
Kade stayed silent, listening.
“It started small. Controlling what I wore. Then what I posted. Who I saw. He made me feel like I was the lucky one. Like I owed him for choosing me.”
She swallowed.
“The cheating came later. The gaslighting even earlier. And when I tried to leave the first time—he cried. Begged. Said he’d change. And I… stayed.”
Kade’s jaw flexed.
“He never hit me,” she added. “But I wish he had. Because bruises would’ve been easier to explain. Easier to forgive myself for.”
She looked up, eyes shining.
“He didn’t destroy me with violence. He did it with love. Or what he convinced me was love.”
Kade’s voice was rough when he finally spoke. “You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“I know that now. But some days, I still feel like I’m just running from pieces of myself.”
He leaned forward, gently took her hand.
“You’re not running,” he said. “You’re healing. And that takes more strength than people ever admit.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
And he didn’t try to wipe it away.
He just held her hand tighter.
---
Later That Night
They didn’t sleep in separate rooms.
There was only one bed — but even if there hadn’t been, Alara didn’t want distance tonight.
Not from him.
She lay in Kade’s bed, wrapped in one of his soft cotton shirts, her head on his chest. The windows were cracked open, letting the scent of pine drift through, and the sound of wind rustling leaves.
Her fingers drew slow circles on his skin.
“Kade,” she murmured, “why me?”
He opened his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“You could’ve ignored me that night at the club. Just walked past.”
“I almost did,” he admitted.
She smiled faintly. “What changed?”
“I saw the way you danced,” he said. “Like you were remembering something no one else could see. And when I looked at you, it was like… I’d seen you before. Not your face. But something deeper.”
He touched her cheek, gently.
“And maybe I just didn’t want to lose the one thing that finally made me feel like I belonged somewhere.”
Her throat tightened.
She kissed him then — slow and full of everything she couldn’t say.
And when they finally fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth, it was the first time in months she didn’t dream of running.
---
But Peace Is Never Total
Outside, hidden behind the tree line, a shape lingered.
The glare from the window made it hard to see inside — but Jared didn’t need to.
He knew she was there.
And he knew she wasn’t alone.
He slipped a burner phone from his pocket and snapped a photo of the cabin.
Then typed one line into a new message:
> Not even the woods can hide you forever.
He didn’t send it.
Not yet.
He smiled instead.
Sometimes the waiting made the fear grow stronger.
And fear was how he kept control.
- Writer
