His to Ruin

Fog in the Rearview

The plates were empty, streaks of dried tomato sauce clinging to the porcelain edges, and the lingering scent of cheese still hung in the air as I wiped my hands with a linen napkin. Abraham leaned back in his chair, his little belly puffed out beneath the blue hoodie now sprinkled with crumbs.

“I’m so full. It feels like… Christmas,” he said, patting his stomach proudly.

I smiled and stood up. “I need to head out for a bit. I left a few things at the hotel last night.”

Abraham turned toward me, brows furrowing. “Hotel?”

I nodded, folding the napkin and placing it on the table. “Where we stayed before we came here. I still have a suitcase and some of your homework books there.”

“Oh,” he said, then glanced toward the kitchen door. “But I wanna play today…”

“Then you can stay here,” Alec cut in casually, leaning back in his chair. “Tony can keep an eye on him.”

I turned, and right on cue, a large man appeared in the doorway. Tony. One of Alec’s bodyguards. His face was all hard lines, his jaw looked carved from granite, and his stare... well, it wasn’t exactly the kind that made kids feel cozy.

I almost opened my mouth to object, but Abraham was already hopping off his chair and waving. “Hi! Were you the one sitting outside the house last night?”

Tony nodded once. Didn’t smile. Didn’t speak.

“I thought you were a robot,” Abraham said innocently. “But you’re actually real!”

There was a pause. Then, somehow, Tony let out a faint sound. Barely audible. A... chuckle?

Alec shot me a look, smug. “See? He made Tony react. That’s an achievement.”

I was still hesitant, but Abraham was already dashing to the door, grabbing the toy car he’d left in the living room earlier. “I’m gonna make him play hide-and-seek!”

I took a slow breath, trying to process everything. “I’ll be gone an hour. Maybe two.”

“He’ll be perfectly fine here,” Alec said, tone light but clearly not open for negotiation. “Tony’s more reliable than any security camera.”

I looked at Abraham for a moment. He was too busy showing off his toy car to Tony to notice I hadn’t left yet. Still, my chest felt tight.

Alec stood. “I’m coming with you.”

I turned quickly. “You don’t have to.”

He was already reaching for his jacket, unfazed.

“Alec—” My voice sharpened.

He half-turned, but kept walking. “I wasn’t asking.”

My chest tightened.

He was already standing at the doorway, glancing back at me. Not waiting for permission, but for me to understand that this, like everything else involving him, wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a choice.

I clenched my fists. “Fine,” I muttered, then turned away. “But you’re taking your own car. I’m grabbing a cab.”

“Too bad,” Alec replied coolly from behind me. “I’ve already shared one car with you. Survived it. I’ll survive another.”

:::

The hotel room key spun between my fingers as the door creaked open, letting out that familiar damp scent of old carpet and lingering luxury perfume. Dim light filtered through the window, casting soft shadows over the remnants of my night. Blankets haphazardly folded, a half-empty water bottle on the nightstand, and Abraham’s suitcase sitting quietly in the corner like a forgotten child.

I stepped in slowly, saying nothing. But I could feel his presence behind me.

Alec didn’t step past the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his jacket pockets, eyes fixed on me without even pretending to look away. As always.

I let him be.

I walked over to my own suitcase by the bed. Unzipping it, I started tossing in clothes I’d thrown around the night before. Some loose shirts, Abraham’s notebook, a small stuffed animal with a torn ear that I could never bring myself to throw away. My hand paused when it brushed against a small leather pouch tucked into the lining.

I pulled the zipper slowly and my breath caught.

The necklace.

A delicate gold chain, a small round pendant with a faintly engraved initial inside. Just one letter: “B.”

I touched it gently, like I was touching a living memory, then let out a slow sigh.

I thought I’d lost it. I thought… maybe the universe was trying to erase what was left of that past.

But no.

I held the pendant for a moment before tucking it back into the pouch, hiding it deeper—somewhere no one would ever touch it. Not even me, if I could help it.

“All set?” Alec’s voice was flat, but not impatient.

I nodded without looking at him. “Just Abraham’s bag.”

I crouched down and picked up the small yellow backpack. Washed so many times the dinosaur pattern had started to fade. It wasn’t heavy, just a few spare clothes and Abraham’s favorite toys but I hugged it to my chest like it was something living. Like it had a heartbeat.

When I stood up, Alec had already stepped inside. He picked up my large suitcase without asking.

I didn’t argue.

We left the room in silence. The hotel hallway was quiet, our footsteps muffled by the worn carpet. I kept the backpack in my arms, gripping the straps with trembling fingers, whether from the cold or something else I couldn’t name.

At the front desk, I handed over the key and gave the receptionist a faint smile. She didn’t care who I was or what I was walking away from.

Alec stood behind me, still carrying my suitcase. Tall, solid, blocking half the light from the glass doors.

And as we stepped outside, the world felt just a little heavier than before.

Not because of the suitcase.

But because someone was walking behind me. Someone who wouldn’t stop until he knew everything.

:::

The car moved slowly through the thick of the afternoon traffic. Distant honking was muffled by leather seats and closed windows. Abraham’s suitcase was neatly packed in the trunk, and the dinosaur backpack still sat on my lap.

Alec sat beside me, his left hand on the wheel, his right briefly adjusting the A/C before falling still again.

Almost ten minutes had passed, filled with nothing but the sound of tires rolling over pavement. I stared out the window, watching the tall buildings drift by.

“I thought you’d left the country,” he said suddenly, voice calm but with something beneath it. Not just curiosity.

I didn’t respond right away. My eyes stayed on the city outside.

“You covered your tracks well,” he went on, softer now, like he was testing the air before a storm. “One of my guys actually thought you were dead.”

I twisted the strap of the backpack in my hands. “We didn’t go far.”

Alec glanced at me. Just once. Waiting.

“We were in Maine,” I added.

Silence. Then his breath, slow but heavy. “Maine,” he repeated, like the word didn’t fit the image in his head. “What kind of place makes you think I wouldn’t find you?”

I bit my lip, staring out the windshield. The sky was beginning to shift color.

“A small town,” I said. “Lots of fog. No one really cares who you are as long as you pay rent on time.”

He narrowed his eyes but didn’t look at me. “And that was enough?”

I inhaled, unable to meet his gaze. “At the time... yes.”

There was a long pause. So long that the wipers brushed against the windshield, even though it wasn’t raining.

“You know I could’ve found you if I really wanted to,” he murmured.

I turned sharply. “Then why didn’t you?”

His eyes cut to mine. Sharp, piercing, just for a moment. “I wanted to see… how long you’d last without me.”

My fingers tightened around Abraham’s bag. “Turns out, a while,” I said flatly.

He gave a small smile. Cold. Then turned his gaze back to the road.

The car kept moving. But I knew it wasn’t just the wheels that were in motion.

Something had shifted.

And not everything that moves takes you somewhere safe.