She Did
1156 Words
The rain wouldn’t stop. It hit the cracked roof of the garage in angry bursts, a rhythm that matched the uneven thud of Luna’s heartbeat. The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber still clung to her skin, reminding her she shouldn’t even be alive.
Adrian stood near the door, rain dripping from his coat, shadows cutting across his jaw. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of the storm — part savior, part threat.
Luna wiped a streak of oil from her face, refusing to meet his eyes. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He didn’t move. “You could’ve died tonight.”
She let out a bitter laugh, voice hoarse. “Guess I should’ve listened to the billionaire who thinks he can predict every disaster.”
“Don’t twist this,” he said, tone low but sharp. “That wasn’t a race — it was a hit disguised as one.”
Luna finally looked at him, defiance in her glare. “And how would you know that?”
He hesitated — just long enough for her to notice.
Her pulse jumped. “You knew something. Didn’t you?”
Adrian’s silence was all the confirmation she needed. Her hands curled into fists. “You knew and you let me go anyway.”
“Would you have listened if I said no?” he shot back.
That stopped her cold. The words hit like a slap — not cruel, just real.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Adrian stepped closer, his presence heavy, heat cutting through the cold air. “You think this is about control, Luna? It’s not. It’s about survival. There are people out there who see you as a problem to fix.”
“Then let them try,” she whispered.
“They already did.”
He tossed something on the workbench — a small, charred device. The tracking chip.
Luna froze. “Where did you—”
“Pulled it from what’s left of your car,” he said, voice tight. “Custom job. Not street tech. Military-grade. Someone paid serious money to know where you’d be.”
Her throat went dry. “The Syndicate?”
Adrian’s jaw flexed. “Or someone inside it who doesn’t play by the same rules.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of the rain filled the space between them — steady, merciless, intimate.
She turned away, grabbing a wrench just to have something to do with her hands. “You’re good at fixing things, right? Go fix your mess.”
He moved closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “This isn’t just my mess anymore.”
She felt his presence behind her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating through the damp air. Her pulse betrayed her — fast, erratic.
“Don’t,” she said quietly. “Don’t act like you care.”
“Then stop making me,” he murmured back.
Luna spun around, eyes flashing. “You don’t get to say that. Not after the lies, the cryptic texts, the way you keep pulling strings—”
“Because if I don’t, you’ll end up dead!” His voice cracked the silence like thunder.
For the first time, he didn’t look composed. His breathing was unsteady, his eyes raw — fear and frustration bleeding into something else.
Luna stepped back, stunned. “Why do you care so much, Adrian? You barely know me.”
He laughed once — low, broken. “That’s the problem. I know enough to make me wish I didn’t.”
Something flickered between them then — the kind of silence that felt alive.
Luna’s gaze dropped to the faint scar on his hand, the one she’d noticed before. She wanted to ask where it came from, but the question died on her tongue. She didn’t need to know. She already felt it — the weight of everything he wasn’t saying.
“Every time I look at you,” he said softly, “I see a choice I shouldn’t make. But I keep making it anyway.”
Her chest tightened. She hated how her body reacted — the tremor in her breath, the way her heart leaned toward him even when her mind screamed run.
“Stop saying things you don’t mean,” she whispered.
He stepped even closer, until she could see the rain clinging to his lashes. “You think I’d risk everything — my name, my operation, my control — for someone I don’t mean it with?”
Luna swallowed hard. “You risked me tonight.”
His expression broke — guilt flashing through the armor. “And it’s tearing me apart.”
For a heartbeat, the air between them was a fuse ready to light.
He reached out slowly, like she was something fragile — a contradiction to her usual fire. His fingers brushed a strand of wet hair from her cheek. She didn’t move. Couldn’t.
“Tell me you don’t feel this,” he said quietly. “And I’ll walk away.”
Her lips parted, trembling with the lie she wanted to say. But when she looked up — really looked — she saw it. The storm in his eyes mirrored her own.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
He exhaled — relief and torment tangled into one.
The rain outside roared harder, thunder rolling through the distance. Adrian’s hand lingered at her jaw, thumb tracing a line that made her knees weaken.
She finally stepped back, breath shaky. “If you’re right… if someone’s hunting me—”
“I’ll stop them,” he said instantly.
Her eyes narrowed. “Even if it’s your own people?”
He didn’t flinch. “Especially then.”
The conviction in his tone hit deeper than she wanted it to. Because that kind of promise — coming from him — wasn’t made lightly.
“Why?” she asked, voice breaking. “Why go that far?”
Adrian’s gaze softened. “Because when I see you race… it feels like the first time I’ve seen something real in years. And I can’t lose that. Not to them.”
Luna looked away before he could see the way her breath caught.
Silence fell — thick, electric, dangerous. The kind that could either destroy or save them.
Finally, she managed a whisper. “Then don’t watch me race next time.”
“I won’t,” he said, turning toward the rain-soaked door. “I’ll be too busy making sure you live through it.”
The door shut behind him with a quiet click. The sound echoed louder than an explosion.
Luna stood there, staring at the faint reflection of her burned car — and her reflection beside it: tired, furious, alive.
Somewhere deep inside, beneath the fear and fury, a spark lit.
Because she realized something terrifying —
She didn’t just want to survive anymore.
She wanted him there when she did.
- Writer
