The moment I step off the track, everything inside me goes silent.
Not calm.
Not relieved.
Just… blank.
Like my brain hit its own kill switch to survive the last ten minutes.
My hands won’t stop shaking. My legs don’t feel like they belong to me. I can still feel the snap of my brake line. The scream of rubber. The violent spin. The flash of a stranger’s masked face in my mirror—
Rogue.
Except it wasn’t him.
Not my Rogue.
Not the man whose touch saved me twice.
Not the man whose voice fractures me.
Not the man who haunts my sleep and wakes me with a phantom heartbeat.
This Rogue wanted me dead.
And he nearly succeeded.
I stumble into the shadows behind the garage, chest heaving, heart clenching like it’s begging me to keep breathing.
Snow drifts down in lazy spirals. The Dec
