The One They Want
1327 Words
Among doctors.
Nurses.
Administrators.
Security.
Maybe more.
The thought sent chills through me.
How many people were involved?
How deep did this go?
Then Terrance reached across the table.
His hand covered mine.
The gesture caught me completely off guard.
For several seconds neither of us moved.
Neither of us spoke.
The world seemed to stop.
His hand felt warm.
Steady.
Safe.
I looked up.
His eyes met mine.
And for the first time all the walls between us seemed to disappear.
The street reputation.
The gossip.
The secrets.
The pain.
Everything.
Gone.
Just two people trying desperately to save someone.
And maybe save themselves.
"You okay?"
His voice was soft.
I swallowed.
"No."
His thumb brushed against my hand.
A simple gesture.
Yet somehow it made my chest tighten.
"Me neither."
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Then his expression became serious again.
"Lexi."
"What?"
"If this gets worse..."
His voice trailed off.
I immediately knew what he was trying to say.
"If what gets worse?"
"If they come after you."
The look in his eyes made my heart ache.
Because he genuinely meant it.
Every word.
Every fear.
Every concern.
He wasn't worried about himself.
He was worried about me.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
The sincerity in his voice stunned me.
"Terrance..."
"I'm serious."
For a moment I saw past the reputation.
Past the image.
Past the rumors.
I saw the man underneath.
The intelligent man who wanted degrees instead of street corners.
The loyal man who carried the burden of protecting his brother.
The grieving man who never stopped looking for Jasmine.
And the man who was slowly falling in love despite every reason not to.
Before either of us could say anything else, a loud crash echoed from outside.
Both of us jumped.
Terrance immediately moved toward the window.
His expression hardened.
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
He looked back at me.
"The SUV."
My heart stopped.
"What about it?"
His voice became ice cold.
"They're here."
Outside, three black vehicles had just pulled into the parking lot.
And people were getting out.
Chapter Eleven
Three black vehicles.
Six people.
And all of them were headed toward my apartment building.
For a moment I couldn't move.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't breathe.
My body felt frozen.
Terrance wasn't frozen.
The second he saw the vehicles, something inside him changed.
Every trace of warmth disappeared from his face.
Every trace of vulnerability vanished.
The caring man who had been sitting across from me seconds earlier was suddenly gone.
In his place stood someone else.
Someone dangerous.
Someone prepared.
Someone who had survived a lifetime of situations exactly like this.
"Get away from the windows."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
The kind of calm that only comes from experience.
I immediately obeyed.
For the first time since this nightmare started, I was genuinely terrified.
Not nervous.
Not worried.
Terrified.
The footsteps outside grew closer.
Terrance moved through my apartment checking locks.
Checking exits.
Checking every possible way inside.
His movements were quick.
Calculated.
Like he'd done this before.
Which honestly scared me more.
"Terrance..."
He looked at me.
"Yeah?"
"Who are these people?"
His jaw tightened.
"I don't know."
I knew he was lying.
Not completely.
But enough.
"You know something."
A long silence followed.
Then he sighed.
"People don't send teams like this for intimidation."
My stomach dropped.
"What does that mean?"
"It means they want something."
The pounding started seconds later.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
The sound rattled my front door.
Every hair on my body stood up.
Then a voice shouted from outside.
"Open the door."
Neither of us moved.
The pounding came again.
Harder.
More aggressive.
I instinctively backed away.
Terrance stepped in front of me.
The gesture happened so naturally it caught me off guard.
Protecting me wasn't something he was thinking about.
It was instinct.
And somehow that made me feel both safer and more frightened.
The voice came again.
"Lexi."
My blood ran cold.
They knew my name.
Terrance's eyes narrowed.
Mine widened.
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
"We know you have the file."
Silence.
Terrance slowly looked at me.
The file.
The hospital records.
The missing women.
Somehow they knew.
Which meant one thing.
Someone inside the hospital was feeding them information.
Across town
Nicole sat upright in her hospital bed.
The panic attack had finally subsided.
But her instincts hadn't.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The conversation she'd overheard kept replaying in her head.
"She wasn't supposed to survive."
She.
Not Jasmine.
Not Mia.
Her.
Nicole.
The realization made her stomach churn.
Tony wasn't supposed to kill himself.
Tony wasn't supposed to shoot himself in front of witnesses.
Tony wasn't supposed to leave questions unanswered.
What if Tony had never been the mastermind?
What if he had simply been another pawn?
The thought terrified her.
Because suddenly his actions made more sense.
The money.
The secret phone calls.
The strange disappearances.
The paranoia.
The nights he came home terrified.
At the time she thought he was cheating.
Now she wasn't so sure.
Maybe Tony had been scared.
Maybe Tony knew something.
Maybe Tony realized too late who he was working for.
And maybe that's why he ended up dead.
Nicole immediately reached for her phone.
She called Lexi.
Straight to voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Fear settled into her chest.
Something was wrong.
She could feel it.
Terrance
The pounding continued.
Hard.
Relentless.
Whoever stood outside wasn't leaving.
I looked toward the kitchen table.
The files.
The photographs.
The evidence.
That was what they wanted.
Not money.
Not Lexi.
The information.
The truth.
But something still bothered me.
The timing.
The confidence.
The fact they came directly here.
Then realization hit me.
My blood turned cold.
The apartment.
Not the files.
The apartment.
Someone had been watching.
Listening.
Monitoring.
I scanned the room.
Smoke detector.
Bookshelf.
Television.
Wall outlets.
My eyes landed on the smoke detector.
And immediately I knew.
Without saying a word, I grabbed a chair.
Stepped onto it.
Twisted the detector loose.
Lexi gasped.
Hidden inside was a miniature camera.
The room suddenly felt silent.
Dead silent.
The kind of silence that comes before disaster.
"They've been watching us."
Lexi stared.
"Oh my God."
The realization hit both of us at once.
Every conversation.
Every clue.
Every plan.
Everything.
They knew it all.
The pounding stopped.
For a moment I thought maybe they'd left.
Then came another sound.
A window breaking.
Glass exploded somewhere downstairs.
Lexi jumped.
I immediately grabbed her hand.
"Move."
"What?"
"Now."
The fear in my voice must have registered because she didn't argue.
Not once.
We rushed toward the back exit.
The second we reached the hallway, another crash echoed through the building.
Someone screamed.
Doors opened.
People shouted.
Chaos erupted.
And that's when I saw them.
Three men moving through the apartment complex.
Not police.
Not security.
Professionals.
The kind of people who worked quietly.
The kind who didn't leave witnesses.
My pulse accelerated.
This was worse than I thought.
Much worse.
Because these weren't people trying to scare us.
These were people trying to contain a problem.
And that problem was us.
Meanwhile
Inside the hospital.
The doctor sat alone in his office.
A phone pressed against his ear.
The caller's voice remained distorted.
Mechanical.
Anonymous.
"Status?"
The doctor swallowed.
"Terrance and Lexi know about the files."
Silence.
Then—
"And Mia?"
The doctor's expression darkened.
"She's already been moved."
The caller chuckled softly.
A sound that felt inhuman.
Cold.
Empty.
Predatory.
"Good."
The doctor glanced toward a photograph on his desk.
A photograph showing seven women.
Including Jasmine.
Including several faces nobody had ever reported missing.
Then he looked at an eighth photograph.
The newest addition.
A woman with beautiful brown eyes.
A confident smile.
Dark curly hair.
A familiar face.
Lexi.
The doctor smiled.
A terrible smile.
The kind that belongs in nightmares.
Then he spoke four words.
"She's the next one."
- Writer
