Chapter 14 - Doubt and Desire
763 Words
Anna sat motionless, Jason’s words still ringing in her ears.
A red hoodie.
She had spent years trying to piece together that night, trying to make sense of the gaps in her memory. And now, just like that, a fragment had resurfaced.
Someone had been there. Someone had run. And they had been wearing a red hoodie.
Her fingers tightened around her phone. “Jason, are you sure?”
His sigh crackled through the speaker. “Yeah. I mean, it was years ago, but I remember thinking it was weird. Everyone else was either drunk or too high to care, but this person? They were running like their life depended on it.”
Anna’s pulse pounded. “Did anyone else see?”
“I don’t know.” Jason hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Look, Anna, if you’re stirring this up again, be careful. There are people who don’t want this case reopened.”
She swallowed hard. “I know.”
“I wish I could help more,” Jason admitted. “But that’s all I remember.”
“Thanks, Jason. Really.”
They ended the call, but Anna remained sitting there, her mind spinning. A red hoodie. Someone had run that night. But who?
A knock at the door made her flinch.
She turned toward it, heart hammering. For a split second, she imagined Allen standing on the other side, that same smug smirk on his face, ready to deliver another threat.
But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Allen.
It was Damien.
He took one look at her face and frowned. “What happened?”
Anna swallowed, still reeling from Jason’s call. She stepped aside, letting Damien in. He shut the door behind him, his presence grounding her in a way she wasn’t ready to admit.
“I just got off the phone with someone from the party,” she said. “They remember someone leaving in a hurry that night. Running.”
Damien’s expression darkened. “Who?”
“They didn’t see a face. But they were wearing a red hoodie.”
Damien’s jaw ticked. “That’s something.”
Anna let out a shaky breath, pacing the small space of her apartment. “It means someone saw what happened. Maybe they were even involved.”
He nodded. “And we’re going to find them.”
His certainty should have been reassuring, but all it did was send her mind spiraling. If they found this person, what would that mean for her? For everything she had tried to put behind her?
She turned to Damien, finding his gaze locked onto hers, unreadable. “This is getting dangerous.”
“It already was.”
Her throat tightened. “Damien…”
He stepped closer, closing the space between them in a way that sent her pulse skittering. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
She wanted to. She should have. But the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, she whispered, “I can’t do this alone.”
Something flickered in his expression—something raw, something unguarded. His hand lifted, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. The touch was soft, hesitant, like he was testing a boundary neither of them had acknowledged until now.
“You’re not alone,” he murmured.
Anna’s breath caught. She should have stepped back. Should have broken the moment before it could spiral into something uncontrollable.
But she didn’t.
Because for the first time in years, she didn’t feel like she was drowning.
And then Damien kissed her.
It wasn’t hurried or demanding. It was slow, deliberate, like he was giving her time to stop it if she wanted to. His lips were warm, firm, and when she didn’t pull away, his hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her in just enough to steal the breath from her lungs.
Anna melted into him before her mind could catch up to what was happening. Her fingers gripped the fabric of his jacket, grounding herself in the sensation—the warmth of him, the way he tilted his head to deepen the kiss just slightly, like he was savoring the moment as much as she was.
But then reality crashed back in.
She pulled away, breathless, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Damien…”
His forehead rested against hers, his own breath uneven. “Tell me that was a mistake, and I’ll pretend it never happened.”
Anna opened her mouth, but the words refused to come.
Because she wasn’t sure it was a mistake.
And that terrified her more than anything.
- Writer
