My bully in black

MY BULLY IN BLACK CHAPTER 1: THE BLACK UMBRELLA The last subway had left 10 minutes ago. The rain was getting worse. My heels clicked against the empty street of Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Umbrella? I forgot it at the office. Classic me. The streetlight flickered. And that’s when I saw him. Standing under one black umbrella, wearing a long black trench coat. Water dripping from the brim. He looked like he’d been waiting. For me? My bully. Aiden Cole. Senior at NYU. Captain of the debate team. And the guy who made my freshman year hell. He stepped closer. Rain dripping from the edge of his umbrella. His voice was low, calm. The same voice he used to announce my embarrassing nicknames in lecture hall. “Need a ride home, Ava?” I froze. I hated him. But somehow... I wasn’t scared. The city was empty. My phone had _1%_ battery. I bit my lip. “How do you know where I live?” He smiled, just a little. Cold. “I don’t. But I can take you somewhere safe.” Thunder rolled over the Hudson. Should I trust my bully??? My heart was pounding. The rain was soaking through my blazer. My phone buzzed... _1%_ battery. I looked at him again. Tall. 6’2. That black coat was the only dry thing on this street. And I was tired of being alone in the rain. “Okay,” I whispered. “Just to the main road.” He didn’t smile. He just tilted the umbrella toward me. “Come.” The second I stepped under it, I could smell him. Rain, and something like cedar and cologne. His car was parked right there. Black. Sleek. Tesla. Tinted windows. He opened the passenger door for me. “You don’t have to,” I said quickly. “I can—” “It’s raining,” he cut me off. Simple. The same tone he used when he told me my presentation was “adorable.” I slid into the warm seat. The doors locked with a soft _click_. He got in the driver’s side, water dripping from his coat. For a second, neither of us spoke. Only the rain on the roof. Then he turned to me. “What’s your name?” I should lie. But my voice came out anyway. “Ava.” He nodded once. Like he already knew. “Ava,” he repeated. “I’m Aiden.” The car started. And we drove off into the dark. Toward Central Park West. I had no idea where he was taking me. --- CHAPTER 2: WHY ARE WE HERE The wipers made the only sound. _Swish. Swish. Swish._ Aiden didn’t look at me. Both hands on the steering wheel. Perfect posture. The car smelled like rain and cedar and something else I couldn’t name. Power. “Where are we going?” I asked. My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “Main road,” he said. Like that answered anything. I checked my phone. _1%_. One text from Mom: `Honey where are you??` Then the screen went black. Great. The city outside was a blur of neon and wet asphalt. We weren’t going toward my apartment in Brooklyn. We weren’t going toward the main road either. “Aiden,” I said. “This isn’t—” “I know,” he cut me off, but softer this time. “There’s someone following you, Ava.” My blood went cold. “How do you know that?” He finally glanced at me. Those gray eyes again. The same eyes that watched me when I tripped in the hallway freshman year and everyone laughed. “Because I was hired to keep an eye on you.” The car slowed. We pulled into an underground parking garage. Empty. Echoing. Somewhere near Times Square. Only one other car was there. Black SUV. Engine running. Aiden killed our headlights. “Don’t move,” he whispered. He reached into his coat and pulled out... nothing. But his jaw was tight. Like he was ready to fight. My breath caught. The SUV’s door opened. A guy stepped out with an umbrella. Just like Aiden’s. He looked right at our car and smiled. “Evening, Cole,” the guy called. “Hand her over and no one gets hurt.” Aiden didn’t answer. He just looked at me. “Ava. When I say run, you run. Got it?” My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it over the rain. The stranger was walking toward us now. Slow. Aiden’s hand found mine for half a second. Warm. Steady. The same hand that once knocked my laptop off my desk. “Ready?” I nodded. Even though I had no idea what was about to happen. CHAPTER 3: RUN "Run." Aiden threw open his door before I could breathe. Rain exploded into the car. Cold. Loud. I scrambled out after him, heels slipping on wet concrete. The man with the umbrella was already halfway to us. “Didn’t think you’d bring her here, Aiden,” he called, voice calm. Too calm. “Didn’t think you’d follow me, Carter,” Aiden shot back. So he knew him. A car alarm went off somewhere. The SUV’s headlight shattered. I screamed and ducked behind Aiden. “Get to the stairs!” he yelled, grabbing my wrist. His hand was steady even while he was pulling me. We ran. My coat was soaked in 2 seconds. My heels were useless. Behind us, footsteps. Fast. We hit the stairwell. Metal. Echoing. Aiden let go of me for one second to slam the door. Then he turned to me, chest rising and falling. “You okay?” I nodded, couldn’t speak. My heart felt like it would break my ribs. He looked at me like he was deciding something. Then he did the last thing I expected. He took off his black trench coat and draped it over my shoulders. It was warm. Smelled like cedar and him. “You’re shaking,” he murmured. “I hate you,” I whispered. “I know,” he said. “But I know _about_ you. Someone wants you, Ava. Badly.” Banging on the door. “Carter’s not alone,” Aiden said, jaw tight. “We have to move. Now.” He took my hand again. This time I didn’t pull away. At the top of the stairs was a door. Emergency exit. He pushed it open and we stepped out into... The rain had stopped. The sky was clear. Stars over Manhattan. And in front of us, a black Ducati. No plates. Aiden tossed me a helmet. “Hold on tight,” he said, swinging onto it. “Where are we going?” “Somewhere he can’t find us.” The engine roared. And just as we pulled away, I saw it. From the stairwell door below... Carter. Watching us. Smiling. --- CHAPTER 4: SAFE HOUSE The city was asleep. Aiden drove for 20 minutes. No talking. Just the sound of the bike and wind in my ears. My hands were gripping his jacket so tight my fingers hurt. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Carter’s smile. Finally we stopped. In front of us was a small brownstone. Old brick. One light on. Brooklyn Heights. No neighbors. No streetlights. Just trees and rain dripping from the roof. Aiden killed the engine. “Where are we?” I whispered. “Off the grid,” he said, pulling off his helmet. His hair was damp. “No cameras. No records.” He led me to the door. Keypad. He typed 6 numbers without looking. _Click._ Inside it was warm. Too warm. Smelled like coffee and old books. There was one couch, one table, one lamp. And in the corner... a bed. Just one. I froze. Aiden noticed. “I’ll take the couch,” he said quickly. “Bathroom’s there. There’s dry clothes in the closet. And food.” I nodded. Still couldn’t speak. The adrenaline was wearing off and now I was just... cold. And tired. He went to the kitchen and started the kettle. For a long time neither of us said anything. Then he slid a mug across the table to me. “Coffee,” he said. “Black. No sugar. That’s how you like it, right?” My head snapped up. “How do you know that?” Aiden sighed. Ran a hand through his wet hair. He looked exhausted for the first time. “Because I’ve been watching you for 3 weeks, Ava.” He paused. “Not because I wanted to. Because I had to. Someone paid me to keep you safe.” The mug burned my hands. “Who?” “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But Carter works for them. And he’s not going to stop.” Outside, the wind hit the windows. Aiden looked at the door, then back at me. “For tonight, you’re safe. I promise.” He meant it. I could tell. But the question was... safe from who? And why did my bully know how I take my coffee? --- CHAPTER 5: THE REASON The mug was still hot in my hands. Aiden sat across from me, elbows on the table. He looked younger like this. Tired. Human. “Three weeks ago,” he started, voice low. “I got a call.” _Flashback_ It was raining that night too. A man in a gray suit slid an envelope across my table at a 24-hour diner in the Village. Thick. Cash. “Miss Ava Reed,” he said. “22. Works at Meridian Corp. Walks home alone Tuesdays and Thursdays. No security.” I didn’t touch the money. “Who wants her watched?” “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Just keep her safe. Someone’s interested in her.” “Interested how?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “The kind that doesn’t take no for an answer.” I took the job. Not for the money. Because two years ago, I failed to keep someone safe. _End flashback_ “You,” I whispered. “You said my full name. Ava Reed.” Aiden nodded. “I started following you. Same subway stop. Same late shifts. Same forgotten umbrella.” He gave a small, sad smile. “You always forget it, huh?” My chest tightened. He’d seen me on the bad days. The crying-in-the-bathroom days. The days I worked late because going home meant an empty apartment. “Carter showed up last week,” Aiden continued. “Watching you from across the street. That’s when I knew this wasn’t just ‘interest’ anymore.” “So who hired you?” I asked. “I tried to trace it. Dead end. Offshore account. Burner email.” He leaned forward. “But Ava... the person who wants you? They know things. Like your coffee. Like your sister’s name. Like the scar on your wrist from when you were 9.” The room went silent. Only the rain on the roof. Aiden reached across and took the mug from my shaking hands. “I don’t know who’s after you. But I do know one thing.” His eyes met mine. “I’m not letting them have you.” Outside, thunder rolled over the East River. And for the first time since NYU, Aiden didn’t look like my bully. He looked like the only person in the world who wouldn’t let me 🖤 --- CHAPTER 6: "HE WAS WAITING" The safe house was too quiet. After the coffee. After his confession. After his _"I’m not letting anything happen to you"_ ... neither of us slept. I was on the bed. He was on the couch. 2:17 AM. The rain started again over Brooklyn. That’s when I heard it. Bare feet on hardwood. I sat up. My heart was already racing. Aiden was standing by the window. Back to me. Just black t-shirt and sweatpants. Hair still damp. He wasn’t looking at the street. He was watching the trees. Like he was waiting for someone to move. “Can’t sleep?” I whispered. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t turn. Like he already knew I was awake. “Not tonight,” his voice was rough. The room was dark. Only one lamp on. Rain hitting the windows. I pulled his coat tighter around me. Still smelled like cedar and him. “I was thinking...” I said. “You’ve been watching me for 3 weeks.” He turned. In the dark his eyes looked deeper. And tired. “You shouldn’t have been walking alone, Ava,” he said softly. My heart dropped. “How did you know I’d be alone?” He didn’t answer. Took 2 steps and stopped in front of me. I should’ve backed away. I didn’t. His hand came out. Warm. Strong. And he grabbed my wrist. Not hard. Not to hurt. But his thumb... went straight to that little crescent scar on my wrist. The one I got when I fell off my bike at 9. The one I never told anyone about. My breath caught. “How...” I started. Aiden’s jaw clenched. He looked at my scar like it hurt him. Then he let go immediately. Like he got burned. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know a lot about you.” Lightning flashed outside. And for the first time, there was fear in Aiden’s eyes. Not of Carter. Of hiding the truth from me. --- CHAPTER 7: "FILE NUMBER 3" The rain got heavier. Aiden let go of my hand and took 2 steps back. Like he hated himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have touched you.” “I need answers,” my voice was shaking. “How do you know about my scar?” He went to the window. Watched the rain. Stayed silent for a long time. Then he spoke. “Two years ago,” he started. “I got another job.” My heart sank. “A girl. Name was Ava too. Ava Miller.” He turned. Pain in his eyes. “21. Intern at Meridian Corp. Walked home alone at night.” I stopped breathing. “I thought it’d be easy,” Aiden laughed, but there was no humor. “Just follow her. Keep her safe. I watched her for 2 weeks. Memorized how she took her coffee. That little scar on her wrist... from falling off her bike at 9.” My fingers went to my wrist on their own. “That night I was 5 minutes late,” his voice cracked. “When I got there... she was in the parking garage. And he... was already there.” Only the rain filled the room. “I couldn’t save her, Ava.” He closed his eyes. “File Number 3. I still have it. That day I swore... I’d never let someone be alone like that again.” He came closer. But stopped a few feet away. “When I got your name... Ava Reed. Same age. Same job. Same late shifts. And that same scar on your wrist...” He exhaled. “I thought... maybe this time I could do it right.” Tears filled my eyes. “So you’re not protecting me,” I whispered. “You’re protecting her.” Aiden nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted. “At first. That’s what it was.” Then he looked straight into my eyes. “But now... now I’m protecting you. Ava Reed. Because you’re not her.” Lightning flashed. And for the first time when he said my name, it didn’t sound like grief. ----- CHAPTER 8: "THE KNOCK" Nothing changed after that night. And everything changed. Aiden didn’t sleep. Neither did I. By 5 AM the rain stopped. First light came through the windows. We were both at the kitchen table. Coffee cold. No one talking. File Number 3 hanging in the air between us. Then... _Knock. Knock. Knock._ On the door. Three times. Slow. Controlled. My blood froze. Aiden was on his feet instantly. Color drained from his face. “Get behind me,” was all he said. Another knock. “Miss Reed,” a calm. Familiar voice. “Carter,” Aiden said my name like a curse. I hid behind the couch. My heart was pounding so loud I thought they could hear it outside. “I know you’re in there, Aiden,” Carter called. “And I know you have her. Open the door. No one has to get hurt.” Aiden opened the kitchen drawer. Pulled out a small pistol. He looked at me. Eyes said: _Don’t be scared._ Then he moved to the door. Stopped by the lock. “Last warning, Carter,” Aiden yelled. “Leave.” The answer was... _BANG._ A bullet through the middle of the door. Wood splintered. I bit back a scream. “Well, you started it,” Carter laughed. “Second one’s coming.” Aiden motioned to the back window. It was small. But big enough. “Go,” he whispered. I opened it. Wet dirt and bushes outside. Aiden pushed me out first. I fell. Scraped my knees. Didn’t care. Then he jumped out after me. A bullet came in right after. Hit the wall. “Run!” he shouted. We ran through the bushes toward the old bridge by the East River. Footsteps behind us. Carter was inside. 10 minutes later we stopped under the bridge. Gasping. Both shaking. Aiden looked back. No one. He looked at me. Dirt on my face. Hair a mess. But alive. He took my hand. This time not from fear. For comfort. “You’re alive,” he said. Like he was asking himself. I nodded. Tears falling. “Carter... how did he know we were here?” Aiden’s jaw tightened. “The safe house is compromised,” he said. “Means we have a leak.” He looked at the sky. “No more running, Ava.” Then he looked at me. “We fight now.” And right then... His phone buzzed. _Unknown Number._ He looked at the screen. Went pale. Put it on speaker. “Good evening, Aiden,” Carter’s voice. Laughing. “Someone sent me your new address. I’ll be there in 10.” He paused. “Oh... and Ava? Don’t raise that injured hand. That’s where the next bullet goes.” Click. Call ended. Aiden smashed the phone against the wall. It shattered. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “No more running,” he said. Voice like ice. He looked at me. “We’re not the prey anymore, Ava.” “Now... we’re the hunters.” He started the engine. It roared. And we drove straight toward the place... where Carter was waiting for us. ---- CHAPTER 9: HUNTERS The Ducati roared under the bridge like a caged animal that was tired of running. Rain had started again. Not the heavy kind. Just that thin, cold mist that makes everything look like a bad memory. Aiden killed the engine. Silence. It hit harder than Carter’s gunshot. Harder than the blade. Harder than 3 weeks of fear. He didn’t look at me. His jaw was locked. Both hands gripping the handle so tight I could see the tendons. The phone in his pocket was in pieces now. I’d watched him smash it 10 minutes ago after Carter’s call. `“Don’t raise that injured hand. That’s where the next bullet goes.”` My wrist was fine. My heart wasn’t. “We’re not running anymore,” Aiden said finally. His voice was low. Flat. The same voice he used in debate finals to shut people down. But this time it wasn’t for points. It was for survival. “Okay,” I whispered. My voice shook. He turned to me then. Rain dripping from his hair onto his black t-shirt, down his collarbone. In the dim light under the bridge he didn’t look like the NYU debate captain anymore. He didn’t look like my bully. He looked like a soldier who’d been to war and came back wrong. “You have two choices, Ava,” he said. His eyes scanned my face. Scraped knees. Torn blazer. His coat still on my shoulders, 3 sizes too big. “Police. Or me.” “Police called the last time and Carter knew in 2 minutes,” I said. “Detective Harris works for them. Remember? He was at the pier.” Aiden nodded once. Slow. Like he hated that I was right. “Then it’s me.” He pulled something from inside his jacket. Not a gun. A small black device, matte, with one red light. He pressed it. The light blinked once and died. “Signal jammer,” he explained, not looking at me. “They can’t track us now. Phones, GPS, nothing.” “Who’s _they_?” I asked. My arms were wrapped around myself under his coat. “I don’t know yet.” He finally looked at me. And god, his eyes. Gray, but stormy. “But we’re going to find out.” He started the bike again. “Hold on. Tight.” I did. My arms went around his waist. Through the wet t-shirt I could feel how tense he was. How cold. How angry. And how he didn’t shrug me off. --- *15 minutes later. Lower East Side. Abandoned warehouse.* The place smelled like rust and old water and something metallic I didn’t want to name. The windows were boarded with plywood. Only one light inside, swinging from a chain on the ceiling. Making shadows move. Aiden parked the bike behind a dumpster. Killed the lights. The sudden dark made me grab his arm. “Stay here,” he whispered. “I’m not a kid,” I snapped. But my voice was small. “You want me to hide while you get shot again?” That stopped him. He turned. In the dark I could only see the outline of him. Broad shoulders. Wet hair. That black coat that was now mine. He looked at my scraped knees. My shaking hands. The way I was drowning in his coat. He sighed. Ran a hand through his hair. Water flicked onto my face. “Fine,” he said quietly. “But you do exactly what I say. No questions. No heroics. You hear me?” I nodded. Inside, the warehouse was worse than outside. Concrete floor. Broken glass. And in the middle — one metal table. And on the table... a laptop. Open. Screen glowing. Carter was sitting in the chair, spinning it slowly with one foot. Umbrella propped against the table. Dry. Of course he was dry. He always was. He smiled when he saw us. Like we were late to a party. “There she is,” he said to me. His eyes dragged over me, over Aiden’s coat on me. “Ava Reed. You’re harder to catch than I thought.” Aiden stepped in front of me instantly. Shoulder to shoulder. Wall. “Touch her and you die, Carter.” Carter laughed. Tossed his umbrella in the air and caught it. “Big words from the guy who let Ava Miller die 2 years ago.” The air went out of the room. I felt Aiden go still behind me. Not moving. Not breathing. “Don’t say her name,” Aiden said quietly. Too quietly. “Oh, I will,” Carter stood. Rolled his shoulders. “Because that’s why I’m here. The boss wants to finish what started with File Number 3.” “Who’s the boss?” I asked. I forced my voice not to shake. Carter looked at me like I was a puzzle. Tilted his head. “You really don’t know? Tsk. After all the late nights at Meridian Corp. All the files you touched. All the coffee you drank black, no sugar.” My blood went cold. Meridian. My company. 3 years I worked there. “What did I do?” “You didn’t do anything,” Carter said, like he was bored. “You _saw_ something. An email. 3 months ago. Subject line: _Project Onyx_. You forwarded it to IT by mistake. Subject line scared you. And then deleted it.” I remembered. 2 AM. I was alone. An email with attachments I couldn’t open. Codes. Names. I sent it to IT and then deleted it because it looked like phishing. “That’s why?” I whispered. “For one email?” “For a lot of money,” Carter shrugged. “Project Onyx is worth 40 million. The boss doesn’t like loose ends. Especially pretty ones who ask questions.” Aiden moved so fast I barely saw it. One second he was in front of me, next second Carter was slammed against the table, Aiden’s forearm on his throat. “Who. Is. The. Boss.” Carter just kept smiling. Even with his face going red. “You’ll never guess,” he wheezed. “He’s closer than you think, Cole. Maybe in your class. Maybe in your bed.” _BANG._ The side door blew open. Three men. Guns. Same black umbrellas. Same cold eyes. Aiden shoved me down. “Down! Now!” Chaos. Bullets hitting metal. _Ping ping._ The light swinging, making everything strobe. Carter laughing under Aiden’s grip like this was funny. Aiden fired twice. Two shots. One man down. “Go!” he yelled at me, not looking. “Back door! Run!” I ran. My heels were gone somewhere on the bridge. Bare feet on concrete. Cold. Sharp. Another shot. Too close. Dust in my hair. A hand grabbed my ankle. Yanked. I went down. Hard. I kicked. Screamed. “Aiden!” Then he was there. He pulled the man off me like he weighed nothing and— He hesitated. For half a second. His eyes flicked to Carter. That half second was enough. Carter, still on the ground under Aiden’s knee, brought his leg up. Hard. Right into Aiden’s ribs. Aiden grunted and stumbled back, losing balance. Carter rolled, smooth, like he’d practiced. Grabbed his umbrella. _Click._ The blade slid out. He lunged. Not at Aiden. At me. Time slowed. I saw the blade. 8 inches. Clean. I saw Aiden’s eyes go wide. I saw him move. He took the hit. The blade went into his side. Right under the ribs. Right where he’d been shot before in Chapter 4. “Aiden!” My scream tore out of me. Raw. He didn’t make a sound. Not one. Just exhaled. Like he’d been expecting it. And grabbed Carter’s wrist. Twisted until I heard bone. The blade clattered to the floor. The other men were down now. Either by Aiden’s shots or they ran when sirens started far away. It was just us. And Carter, groaning on the floor. And blood. On the floor. Spreading. On Aiden’s shirt. Black turning darker. On my hands when I pressed them to him. “Don’t,” I whispered. My hands were shaking so bad. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare leave me.” Aiden looked at me. Even hurt, even pale, his eyes were steady. That same steady from the car. From the bike. From freshman year when he watched me trip. “Call... an ambulance,” he said. Each word cost him. “And Ava...” “Shut up. Don’t talk.” I was pressing my hands to his side. His coat was under me now. My coat. Warm. Smelling like cedar and him. “You’re fine. You’re okay.” Carter was on the floor too, groaning, but alive. Aiden had zip ties in his pocket. Of course he did. He’d cuffed him with one hand while bleeding out with the other. Sirens. Finally. Real ones. Detective Harris ran in with 4 officers. Real officers this time. Not fake. They took Carter. They took statements. They took Aiden on a stretcher. I wouldn’t let go of his hand. I rode in the ambulance. Sirens screaming. Holding his hand with both of mine. He was pale. Sweat on his forehead. But awake. “File... Number 3,” he said weakly. A ghost of a smile. “I did better this time.” “You did,” I said, crying and laughing at the same time. It hurt. “You stupid, stubborn, idiotic bully.” He smiled. Just a little. It made the pain worse. “Still hate me?” I shook my head. Tears on my face, on his. “No. I don’t. I never did. Not really.” His thumb brushed over my knuckles. Once. “Good.” Then his eyes closed. --- *3 days later. St. Vincent’s Hospital. Room 412.* The room smelled like antiseptic and coffee. Black coffee. No sugar. And rain. Even though it wasn’t raining. Aiden was sitting up. Shoulder and side bandaged under a thin hospital gown. He looked annoyed at the gown. And at the IV. And at me for not sleeping. I was in the chair next to him. I’d fallen asleep there. Woke up when he shifted. “You’re staring,” he said without opening his eyes. “I am,” I admitted. “Making sure you’re real. Making sure you didn’t...” He opened one eye. Gray. Tired. But there. Alive. “I’m here,” he said. Simple. “Carter talked,” he continued, voice rough from disuse. “Took a plea deal. Gave up a name to save himself.” My stomach dropped. The room got smaller. “Who?” Aiden looked at me. Really looked. Like he was memorizing me. “Your boss, Ava. The CFO of Meridian. Richard Hale.” The name hit me like ice water. Richard Hale. The man who praised my work every quarter. Who asked me to stay late. Who brought donuts on Fridays. To be continued...