Run
1477 Words
POV: Amy
Nathan looked like someone had scraped the ground out from beneath his feet.
His chest rose and fell too fast, like he’d run here. His coat was unbuttoned, hair slightly damp, eyes sharp and frantic. Not the composed, shadow-soft version I met in the hallway days ago.
This was a man who had seen danger
—and lost time.
I opened the door without thinking.
“What happened?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer.
He just stepped inside, shut the door behind him, and locked it.
Then he grabbed my shoulders.
“Amy,” he breathed, voice taut, “where is the card?”
My blood chilled.
“What—”
“The card,” he repeated, “the one she gave you. Where is it?”
I pointed to the table.
His jaw clenched. He strode over, snatched it, tore it cleanly in half—then in half again—then again, until the pieces were small enough to scatter like confetti.
I flinched.
“What are you doing?”
He turned to me, eyes blazing.
“You called her,” he said.
Not a question.
A fact.
I froze, breath stuck in my chest.
“How do you—”
“You called her,” he repeated, softer this time but somehow sharper.
“She answered. And now she knows where you stand.”
I opened my mouth, but words tumbled out of order.
“I— I didn’t know— she said—”
Nathan scrubbed a hand down his face, pacing once before stopping in front of me again.
“What did she tell you?”
I swallowed.
“That David… left to protect me. That someone named Rafe is coming. That I need to run.”
At the name, something snapped behind his eyes.
“Nathan,” I whispered, “is she lying?”
He stared at me for a long moment.
Too long.
“No,” he said finally.
“She’s not.”
My mouth went dry.
“Who is she?”
Nathan’s voice softened—unexpectedly.
“A warning,” he said. “A ghost from our mistakes.”
I felt lightheaded.
“Our?”
Nathan’s gaze dropped.
“I wasn’t just a friend. David and I—”
He stopped.
The truth hovered, dark and heavy.
“We were involved in something we never should’ve touched. And she was part of it too.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady my breath.
“Nathan… what did David do?”
Nathan looked away.
“He tried to fix a mistake. He succeeded. But the cost landed on someone else. Someone Rafe cared about.”
A knot formed in my throat.
“Someone died,” he added quietly.
The room went silent.
Cold.
I backed up a step, needing space that didn’t exist.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
Nathan’s gaze lifted to mine—grief buried deep in the shadows beneath his lashes.
“Because he wanted to spare you. He wanted to be someone better with you.”
My eyes burned.
“That doesn’t make lying okay.”
“No,” Nathan said gently.
“It doesn’t.”
He watched me, gentle but steady.
“But understand this, Amy—he left because he was trying to protect you from becoming collateral. Not because he didn’t care.”
Collateral.
The word hit harder than the truth behind it.
I pressed my palm to my chest, breathing through the ache.
“What now?” I whispered.
Nathan exhaled, looking older than he should.
“Now…” He paused, jaw working.
“Now we run.”
My heart jolted.
“No. I’m not leaving. I’m not abandoning my life because someone might come after me.”
“You don’t get it,” he said quietly.
“This isn’t a maybe. They’re coming.”
I felt the floor tilt.
“How soon?”
He looked toward the window as if he expected shadows to climb through.
“Hours. Maybe less.”
My skin went cold.
“And David?” I asked.
Nathan’s expression darkened.
“I’m trying to get word to him. But he might already know.”
My legs weakened.
I leaned against the counter.
“He’ll come,” I whispered.
Nathan shook his head—slow, pained.
“Not if coming here gets you killed.”
The air thinned.
“You said he told you to watch me,” I murmured.
“Yes.”
“So help me stay, not run.”
Nathan stared at me—really stared—as though seeing me clearly for the first time.
“Do you know what you’re asking?”
“I’m asking you not to disappear. I’m asking you to help me face this instead of running from it.”
Nathan looked torn—caught between loyalty and fear.
His voice lowered.
“If we stay, there’s no guarantee of safety.”
I lifted my chin.
“There’s no guarantee if we run either.”
Silence stretched long enough for me to hear my heartbeat collide with the quiet.
Finally, Nathan sighed.
“God, you’re stubborn,” he whispered.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Okay. We don’t run. Not yet.”
Relief crashed over me—but only for a second.
“Then what do we do?”
“We prepare.”
He stepped closer, voice dropping.
“You need to pack. Essentials only. Just in case.”
Just in case.
A phrase that should have comforted me
—but didn’t.
I nodded numbly and turned toward my bedroom.
Nathan followed, hovering near the door as I pulled out a small duffel.
I grabbed clothes, toothbrush, wallet, badge—things that mattered but somehow felt meaningless.
As I zipped the bag, Nathan spoke quietly.
“I didn’t come here to scare you.”
“I know.”
“I came because… David would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”
Something in his voice cracked softly.
It made my chest ache.
I looked at him.
“Is he okay?” I whispered.
Nathan’s expression softened—grief, affection, fear all tangled together.
“He’s fighting,” he said.
“And he’s trying to get back to you.”
Tears blurred my vision.
I blinked them away.
“When will he return?”
Nathan exhaled.
“When it’s safe.”
The room felt too small again.
I slung the duffel over my shoulder.
“What next?”
Nathan hesitated.
“We wait until I know where they are. If they’re close, we leave. If not…” He met my gaze.
“We stay. With caution.”
I nodded.
Breath shallow, heart pounding.
A sudden banging rattled the silence.
Three sharp knocks.
I froze.
Nathan inhaled slowly—eyes narrowing, muscles coiled.
“That’s not them,” he whispered.
“That’s too polite.”
It didn’t reassure me.
He motioned for me to stay behind him.
I obeyed.
He approached the door carefully, looked through the peephole—
And his shoulders dropped in relief.
“It’s fine,” he murmured.
“It’s just—”
He opened the door.
Ethan stood there.
Wide-eyed.
Worried.
Looking between us like he’d walked into a scene he couldn’t comprehend.
“Amy,” he said, breathless, “I— I saw someone watching your building.”
My heart plummeted.
Nathan’s face shifted in an instant—alarm snapping into focus.
“What did he look like?” Nathan demanded.
Ethan blinked at him, startled.
“Tall. Dark coat. Standing across the street. He didn’t look… normal. More like—he was waiting for something.”
Or someone.
Me.
Nathan swore under his breath.
“Pack’s done?” he asked me.
I nodded.
“Good.”
His voice was all steel now.
“We’re leaving.”
Ethan’s eyes widened.
“Leaving? What’s going on?”
Nathan grabbed my wrist.
“Explain later. Move now.”
But Ethan stepped forward.
“I’m not letting her go with you unless someone tells me what the hell is happening.”
Nathan glared.
“Not the time.”
Ethan didn’t back down.
“Amy?”
His voice trembled.
He wasn’t fearless.
He was scared—like me.
I met his gaze.
“I trust him,” I whispered.
Ethan’s throat bobbed.
“Then I’m coming too.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Absolutely not.”
Ethan squared his shoulders.
“Then you’ll have to stop me.”
Nathan stared at him—truly stared—then muttered something under his breath.
“We don’t have time for this.”
He grabbed my hand again.
“Amy—”
A sound cut him off.
A distant scream—
outside.
Then another.
Nathan went still.
Ethan’s face drained of color.
My heart stopped.
The danger wasn’t coming.
It had arrived.
- Writer
