Chapter 25
1143 Words
Riley’s POV
I kept running until my legs felt like they would give up. My chest was burning and my ears were still ringing from the explosion, but I did not dare stop. The night air was cold and sharp against my skin. When I finally reached the main road, I bent slightly, trying to catch my breath. My clothes were dirty, and I knew I looked like someone who had just escaped death.
Headlights appeared in the distance. A cab.
I stepped forward and waved both hands desperately. The car slowed down and stopped in front of me. The driver rolled down his window and looked at me with suspicion.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Without thinking too much, I opened the back door and entered quickly. “Please just drive,” I said, giving him the address of my house.
He stared at me through the mirror for a moment but then started the car. I leaned back against the seat, trying to calm my breathing. Every passing second felt unreal. I was alive. I escaped. But I did not know for how long.
When we finally arrived at my street, the cab stopped in front of my house. The building looked the same, quiet and still like nothing had ever changed. Like I had never disappeared for months.
The driver turned to me. “That will be your fare.”
My heart dropped.
I had no money.
I checked my pockets again even though I already knew the truth. Nothing.
“I… I don’t have money right now,” I said quietly. “I was stranded. Please, I can pay you later.”
His face changed immediately. “What do you mean you don’t have money?” he shouted. “You think this is a joke?”
“I’m not joking,” I said quickly. “Please, I just—”
“Get out and pay me!” he yelled, stepping out of the car. “If you don’t pay, I will deal with you!”
He grabbed my arm roughly. Pain shot through my body. I was already injured from the blast and the running.
Fear turned into instinct.
Without thinking, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the gun.
I pointed it at his head.
“You better shut up,” I said coldly, my hand shaking slightly, “or I will blow your head off.”
The driver froze immediately. His eyes widened in terror. His grip on my arm loosened.
“I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “Please, don’t shoot. I didn’t mean anything.”
For a second, I felt horrible. He was just a normal man trying to earn money. He did not deserve this.
But I had no choice.
“Get in your car and leave,” I said.
He nodded quickly, trembling. He got back into the cab and drove off without looking back.
I lowered the gun slowly. My hands were shaking badly now.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to myself.
I limped toward the house. Every step hurt. My body was tired, bruised, and weak. The explosion flash kept appearing in my mind. The fire. The noise. The screams.
I reached the walkway and stared at the door for a few seconds.
This was the same house I had stormed out of months ago out of anger. I remembered shouting. I remembered slamming the door. I remembered my uncle calling my name.
That was the last normal day of my life.
After that, I was kidnapped.
Trained.
Used.
Turned into something else.
And now I was back.
I lifted my hand and rang the doorbell.
The sound echoed inside the house.
A few seconds passed.
Then the door opened.
My uncle stood there.
He looked older. More tired. His hair seemed grayer than before.
When he saw me, his eyes widened in shock.
“Riley…?” he whispered.
We just stared at each other.
He looked like he was seeing a ghost.
“Riley, you—”
His voice broke.
I could see so many emotions on his face. Shock. Confusion. Relief. Fear.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Do you know how long you’ve been gone? We searched for you. I reported you missing. I thought—”
He could not finish his sentence.
I swallowed hard.
I wanted to tell him everything. The kidnapping. The training. The guns. The explosion tonight.
But the words would not come out.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
He stepped closer, staring at my bruised face and torn clothes. “What happened to you?” he asked softly.
“I… I made mistakes,” I said.
He pulled me inside quickly and closed the door. “Come in, come in. You’re freezing.”
The warmth of the house wrapped around me. It felt strange. Safe. Too safe.
He held my shoulders gently like he was afraid I would disappear again. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
But I was not fine.
My body hurt. My heart hurt. My mind was still in that burning warehouse.
He hugged me suddenly.
I froze at first.
I had not been hugged in months.
Slowly, I hugged him back.
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered.
So did I.
Tears started forming in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I could not cry. Not now.
“I’m home,” I said again, but this time it sounded weaker.
He pulled away slightly and looked at me carefully. “You look different,” he said.
I knew what he meant.
I was different.
The innocent girl who left this house that night was gone.
In her place stood someone who had pointed a gun at a man minutes ago without hesitation.
Someone who had watched people die.
Someone who had survived an explosion.
“I just need rest,” I said.
He nodded slowly. “Go to your room. We will talk in the morning.”
I walked down the hallway toward my old room. Every step felt heavy. When I entered, everything was the same. My bed. My desk. My old posters on the wall.
But I did not feel like I belonged there anymore.
I closed the door and locked it.
Then I slid down to the floor.
My breathing became uneven.
I escaped.
But did I really?
Because I knew one thing for sure.
Armani would not let me go that easily.
And if he found out I was alive—
He would come for me.
And next time…
There might not be a road.
There might not be a cab.
There might not be a home to run back to.
I was home.
But the danger was not over.
Not even close.
- Writer
