CHAPTER 5 — First Contact
1027 Words
A hand clamped onto my elbow.
It wasn’t a jerk. It was just there. Firm. Steady. Stopping me right as I tried to swing my leg over the bike. My skin crawled under the touch.
I ripped my arm back so fast I stumbled. My boot caught the curb, and my heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to break through the bone.
"Don’t touch me!"
My voice was too high. Shrill. I hated the sound of it—weak and panicked. The air felt thin. My wrist still throbbed from where Kade had grabbed it earlier. Now this.
"I wasn’t," the man said.
Liar.
He stood too close. He smelled of expensive tobacco and something chemical. He wore a coat that cost more than my life. Hair slicked back. Skin too clean for a street like this.
He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze stayed flat. Dead.
Behind me, Kade went silent. No movement. No engine revving. That was the part that made my blood cold.
The man’s gaze flicked over my shoulder. He looked at Kade for a second, and something shifted in his expression. Recognition. Then he looked back at me. I felt like a bug under a microscope.
"I’m sorry," he said. His voice was polite—the kind of polite that makes you want to bolt. "I didn’t mean to startle you."
I couldn’t speak. My tongue felt heavy, my throat dry as dust. I just stood there, clutching my bag until my fingers went numb.
"I just wanted to talk," he said.
"I don't. Get away from me."
I should’ve just gotten on the bike. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
"I know who you are," he said.
My stomach dropped.
From the corner of my eye, I saw another one. Taller. Heavier. He stepped out of the shadows like he’d been waiting for a cue. He didn’t say a word. He just watched.
"You’ve been busy," the first man said, nodding at the phone in my hand. "You’re very popular today."
My face burned. "I don't know you."
"No. But we know you."
Behind me, Kade shifted. A small, deliberate adjustment. He didn't step in front of me yet. He was just... waiting.
"What do you want?" I asked. My voice wobbled. I’d given him an opening.
"Everything," was all he said.
The big one took a step closer. My body moved on instinct—I backed up until my shoulder hit Kade’s chest. He was solid. Warm. A wall of safety I didn't want to need.
The man in the coat noticed. His smile widened. "That’s interesting."
Kade’s hand landed on my waist. It wasn't gentle. It was a lock. He pulled me half a step behind him, shielding me. He didn't ask. He just took control.
"You shouldn't do that," the man said.
Kade didn't answer. He didn't even look at him. He just blocked the view.
I was breathing too fast. My pulse drowned out the sound of the traffic. The world had shrunk to this one patch of sidewalk.
"We were hoping for a private conversation," the man continued.
"No," Kade said.
Flat. Final. Like a door slamming shut.
The man didn't flinch. He let out a short, dry laugh. "Unfortunate."
The big man moved again. Too close.
Kade stepped forward. He didn't swing. He didn't shout. He just occupied the space, and the big guy stopped instantly. He knew what would happen if he took one more step.
The silence was thick, vibrating with the threat of something breaking.
The first man’s eyes dropped. Just for a second. He looked at my stomach.
My blood went cold. He knew.
"How far along?" he asked.
"What?" My voice was a breathy mess.
"You didn't know we knew?"
My stomach twisted. Behind me, Kade went completely still. Not a twitch. He was a bomb that had finished its countdown.
"You're wrong," I said. "You have the wrong person."
"You don't have your accounts anymore," he said, ignoring my lie. "You don't have your apartment. The locks are already changed."
Every word felt like a physical blow.
"You don't have anyone left to protect you."
Behind him, the big man shifted his weight. Ready.
"That’s not your business," Kade said.
The man finally looked at Kade. Really looked at him. Sizing him up. Deciding if the trouble was worth the prize.
"We think it is," he said.
Kade didn't argue. He just stood his ground.
The man exhaled and looked back at me. "Think carefully about where you are," he said. "People without protection don't last long out here."
My throat tightened. I hated that I was leaning into Kade. I hated that he was letting me.
The man took a step back. "This is your only warning."
He turned and walked away. The big one followed. They didn't look back. They didn’t need to. They’d shown me how exposed I was.
The street noise rushed back—cars, voices, the hum of the city. It all felt wrong.
My hands shook so hard I had to shove them into my pockets. Kade didn't let go of my waist until they were out of sight. When his hand dropped, I pulled away.
"I don't—" I started, then stopped.
I did. I did need him. And we both knew it.
Kade was staring down the street. His face was a mask of cold stone.
"I'm not leverage," I whispered. It sounded desperate.
He finally looked at me. No pity. No comfort. Just the truth.
"You are now."
It felt like a slap. He wasn't lying. He wasn't trying to make me feel better.
My phone buzzed. Another notification. Another stranger. Another person who knew exactly what I was carrying.
I looked at the empty street. The world wasn't a place I lived in anymore—it was a hunting ground.
Behind me, the bike engine roared. Low. Steady.
Kade didn't say anything. He just sat there.
Then I heard it. A car engine turning over a few doors down. A black sedan pulled out into the lane. It sat there, idling.
Following us.
- Writer
