AGAPE

CHAPTER 3

Hope barely remembered the walk home.

Her bag bumped against her hip, the forgotten orange juice sloshing inside. King would want the muffin. Victory would ask why she was smiling at nothing. Elijah would already be gone for his shift.

She pushed open the front door.

"Hope, you need to sit down for this."

Leah was already there. Sitting on the couch. Phone in hand. Face serious.

Hope's floating feeling crashed.

"Why do you look so serious, Lee?" Hope asked, dropping her bag by the door.

Leah didn't answer right away. She just looked at Hope with something that made Hope's stomach tighten — not pity, not worry, something closer to fear.

"I need you to promise me something," Leah said.

"What?"

"Promise me you'll stay calm."

Hope laughed. A nervous, high-pitched sound. "You're scaring me. Just tell me what's going on."

Leah held up her phone. Her hand was shaking slightly. "I got these from Gracie an hour ago. She said she's been sitting on them for two weeks, trying to figure out what to do."

"Sitting on what?"

"I need you to look at them, Hope. But I need you to understand — this is the man you've been watching. The man you've been dreaming about."

Hope's heart started pounding before her brain caught up. "Leah. Just show me."

Leah unlocked her phone. Swiped through something. Then turned the screen toward Hope.

At first, Hope didn't understand what she was seeing.

A dimly lit storage unit. Boxes stacked high. And David — David — standing in the middle of it all, surrounded by men she'd never seen before. Men with hard faces and expensive watches. Men who looked at the camera like they owned everything it could see.

One of them had an arm around David's shoulder. David wasn't pulling away.

Another photo. Different angle. David was handing something to a man with a gold chain — a small package, wrapped in brown paper. Casual. Like he was passing a cup of coffee.

A third photo. The same storage unit. Two men loading boxes into the back of a van. David stood to the side, watching. His expression wasn't fear.

It was calculation.

Hope's hands went cold.

"I don't—" She stopped. Swallowed. "This doesn't mean anything."

Leah leaned forward. "Hope. Those are drug dealers. That's a stolen goods ring. My sister's ex-boyfriend used to work with people like that. I know what this looks like."

"It could be anything. It could be—"

"Look at his face."

Hope looked.

David wasn't laughing. He wasn't scared. He was watching. Measuring. Like a man who'd done this a hundred times before. Like a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

The man in those photos couldn't be the same person who held doors open for strangers.

Could he?

Hope thought about the coffee shop. The way he'd sighed at his phone — tired, not angry — and set it face-down. Like he was choosing peace.

She thought about the way he'd said "What" — not mean, just tired.

She thought about the way he'd noticed her. Known her face. Called her out without cruelty.

"You're always in the back. Watching."

He'd said it like he'd been looking for her. Like he'd noticed her absence as much as her presence.

That man wasn't a criminal.

But the photos on Leah's phone said otherwise.

"Where did Gracie get these?" Hope asked. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"She took them herself," Leah said. "Last week. She's been following him for months. She said half the town already knows."

Hope felt something c***k inside her chest. "Half the town?"

"Hope, listen to me. She said David Jones is one of the biggest names in a stolen goods ring that runs through three counties. The police have been trying to catch him for two years, but he's too careful. Too smart. He never gets caught."

"Then why are there photos?"

"Because Gracie is the only one brave enough to take them. And she's terrified."

Hope stared at the phone again. Zoomed in on David's face.

He wasn't smiling like the others. He wasn't laughing.

He looked like a man who wanted to be somewhere else.

But he also looked like a man who knew exactly how to survive.

Leah reached out and took Hope's hand. "I know you liked him. I know you've been watching him for months. But you need to stay away from him, Hope. He's dangerous."

Hope pulled her hand back.

"He's not dangerous," she said. But her voice didn't sound convincing. Even to her own ears.

"He's running stolen goods. He's connected to dealers. You just saw the photos—"

"I saw photos. That's all. I didn't see him hurt anyone. I didn't see him—"

"Hope."

"I didn't see him do anything to me."

Leah's face crumpled. "That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works."

Hope stood up. Her legs felt unsteady. "I need air."

"Honey—"

"I need air, Lee. Just let me breathe."

She walked to the door. Her hand was on the handle when Leah's voice stopped her.

"Promise me you won't go to that show on Friday."

Hope didn't turn around.

"If I promise, will you believe me?"

A long silence.

"No," Leah said quietly. "I don't think I will."

Hope opened the door and stepped outside.

The night air hit her face. She leaned against the porch railing, closed her eyes, and tried to make sense of everything.

The man in the photos.

The man at the coffee shop.

The man who'd held a door open for her like it was nothing.

The man who'd noticed her from across a room and said, "You're always in the back. Watching."

Those two men couldn't be the same person.

But if they were...

She pulled out her phone. Opened the video platform. Found the latest video of David playing at The Lantern.

She watched him smile at someone off-stage. Watched his fingers move across the keys. Watched the way he closed his eyes when the music swelled.

He looked like a boy who'd found peace in sound.

But peace didn't pay for storage units full of stolen goods.

Hope closed the app.

She opened a new message. Typed a number she'd memorized months ago — the number someone had left in a comment section once. Probably a fake. Probably wrong.

Is this David?

She stared at the message for a long time.

Then she pressed send.

And her heart pounded so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.

Because if he replied, she'd have to decide:

Was she falling for a musician?

Or was she falling for a ghost?

So... what do you think? Is David guilty, or is there more to his story than what those photos show? 👀 I'd love to hear your theories — drop a comment below!

If you're enjoying AGAPE, please ⭐ vote and add this story to your reading list. Every vote, comment, and read helps others discover it, and your support truly means the world to me! 💛

Next chapter: Hope is about to make a decision that will change everything — and she's not sure if she's ready for the truth.

See you in Chapter 4!

— Zham♥️