Pick us back

chapter 20

The steam begins to swirl around the bathroom, thick and white, blurring the edges of the room as I sit on the edge of the marble tub, my phone screen glowing in the mist.

My heart is pounding for a completely different reason now-not fear, but a strange, dizzying rush of adrenaline.

I open the group thread first.

To Ezra & Julian: It's not you guys that I'm running from. I'm running from all of this. Everything is just... too much.

I hit send, watching the little bubble signify it's gone.

Then, I take a shaky breath and open my private chat with Julian. My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I can almost feel the heat of his skin on mine again, that brief, possessive moment at the car window.

To Julian: I'm still thinking about your kiss.

I lock the phone and set it face-down on the counter, my face flushing even hotter than the shower water.

Outside the door, the penthouse is silent, but I know Marcus is out there, pacing like a caged predator, keeping the world at bay. I peel off the oversized shirt-the one that smells like him-and step into the spray.

The water is scalding, just the way I need it to be, hitting my skin and washing away the grime of Maryland and the tension of the last few hours.

For a few minutes, the roar of the water drowns out the world. But then, my phone vibrates on the marble counter. Once. Twice.

I reach out a wet hand, drawing the phone behind the curtain.

Ezra: You can run all you want, Princess. We'll just be the ones running right behind you. Get some sleep.

Then, I scroll to the message from

Julian. My breath hitches.

Julian: Then don't stop thinking about it. Because I'm not. Sleep well, Nova. I'll see you in your dreams tonight, and in person tomorrow.

I lean my head against the wet tile, the heat of the shower and the heat of his words colliding. I came here to escape the chaos, but looking at these messages,

I realize I haven't escaped anything. I've just moved to the center of the storm.

I set the phone back down on the marble, the screen still glowing with Julian's last message.

The steam has completely filled the room now, making everything feel soft and far away.

I wrap a plush, oversized towel around myself, my skin still tingling from the heat of the water.

A moment later, I hear a soft, hesitant knock on the bathroom door.

"Nova? I brought in a bag of clothes for you,It's right outside the door," Marcus says, his voice muffled but low and steady.

I hear the gentle thud of the shopping bag hitting the floor. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything else. I'm making some coffee... thought you might want something warm that isn't just water."

I wait until I hear his footsteps retreat down the hallway before I crack the door open. The purple bag is sitting there-a splash of color against the dark hardwood.

I pull it inside and dump the contents onto the counter.

Inside are the clothes we picked out-expensive, soft fabrics that feel like a dream compared to the threadbare things I wore in Maryland.

I pull out a pair of green silk pajamas, the material cool and fluid against my skin. As I dress, I catch my reflection in the steamed-up mirror.

I look different. The hollow look in my eyes hasn't gone away, but the girl staring back at me looks like someone who might actually survive the night.

I step out into the hallway, my damp hair clinging to the back of the silk top. The penthouse is dim, lit only by the amber glow of the city lights pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows and a small light over the kitchen island.

Marcus is standing by the counter, a steaming mug in his hand. He's changed out of his tactical gear into a simple black t-shirt that shows the tattoos snaking down his arms designs that look hauntingly similar to the ones I used to see in my father's old sketches.

He looks up as I approach, his gaze softening as he takes in the new clothes. Green suits you," he says quietly, sliding a second mug across the marble toward me. "Better than my old shirt, anyway."

He leans back against the counter, watching me with that same intense, protective focus. "Julian's text back there... he's restless, Nova. They both are. But you made the right call staying here. You needed the space."

I take a sip of the coffee-it's rich and perfect-and look at him. "You sounded worried on the phone earlier. About the 'scouts.' Are we really safe here, Marcus?" I look at him and pad to the balcony.