Irene’s POV.
“They’re not just coming to bring us back… they’re coming to kill you.”
Reagan’s words dropped between us like a heavy stone. I sat frozen on the edge of the old bed, staring at him. The phone was still in his hand, the screen casting a faint blue light across his face. He looked pale. His eyes were wide with a kind of fear I had never seen on him before.
Kill me.
Not capture. Not punish. Kill.
My legs felt weak. I pressed my hands between my knees to stop them from shaking. The small cabin suddenly felt too tight, the air too thick to breathe. My mind kept repeating the words. They want me dead. Because I loved him. Because we couldn’t stay away from each other.
“I ruined your life,” I whispered. My voice cracked in the middle. “You had everything. You were going to be
