HANNAH shoved Louis forward, her grip tight on his shoulder, the damp smell of the alley thick in her nostrils. Her heart was racing, but it wasn’t fear driving her—it was rage. Pure, undiluted rage. She could feel the cold weight of the gun under her jacket, and tonight, it was going to end. No more games. No more smug, taunting smiles from Louis.
She dragged him deeper into the shadows, her breath shallow and sharp. Louis didn’t resist, which only made it easier. She yanked him down to his knees, the barrel of the gun heavy in her hand, pointing it straight at him.
“Done, Louis. I’m done with you,” she growled, the words laced with venom.
But just as she was about to pull the trigger, Louis moved. It was too fast—before she could react, his body twisted, his arm snaked out, and suddenly the gun was gone from her hand.
With a brutal shove, he sent her sprawling onto the pavement, her skull cracking against the concrete. The pain blurred her vision, but through the haze, she saw him standing over her now, the tables completely turned.
The gun was in his hand now. Pressing against her forehead.
Louis cocked his head, eyes dark, almost amused. “You really thought you could pull that off, huh?” He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “Nice try, Hannah. But remember… when you aim at the king, you'd better not miss.”
His words stung, but it wasn’t just his mocking tone—it was the fact that he was right. She had tried, and she had failed. But there was something in Louis’ eyes she didn’t expect. Not anger, not even smug satisfaction. Just… disappointment. Like he’d seen this all play out before.
He stood over her, his past more present in his eyes than she had ever realized. Hannah had always known there was something different about him. Something dark, heavy, a man carrying a thousand unspoken stories. But now, as he looked down at her, she could feel the weight of those stories pressing in around them both.
“You know,” Louis said, voice low, almost conversational, “I used to believe people could change. That if you gave them enough time, enough reasons, they’d get better. But people like us? Nah. We’re broken, Hannah. We just keep doing what we know.”
Hannah’s heart pounded harder. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Louis crouched down, the gun still in his hand but no longer pointed directly at her. He looked her over, studying her, as if trying to figure out how much she really understood. He sighed, shaking his head. “You think killing me is going to fix something for you, huh? You think after I’m dead, you’re gonna feel different? Walk away clean, maybe even sleep better?”
Hannah didn’t answer. She was still reeling, trying to process how everything had spiraled so far out of control. Louis’ words felt too real, cutting too deep, and she hated it.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Louis went on, voice growing softer, almost pitying. “You and me—we’re the same. We’ve been through the same hell, this city’s bled us both dry. You kill me, it doesn’t stop. Someone else will take my place, another ghost for you to chase. You’ll still feel the same.”
He crouched lower, eyes level with hers now, the lines of exhaustion etched into his face. “You think I’m the bad guy in your story, don’t you? But I’ve done things—things you can’t even imagine. Killed people who deserved it. Killed people who didn’t. And you know what? None of it goes away. It just sticks with you, like rot.”
Hannah’s breath hitched, her throat tightening. She didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to let his words worm their way into her thoughts, but they were. They were.
“I’m not like you,” she muttered, trying to push the words out like a shield.
Louis laughed, a low, bitter sound. “Sure you are. The difference is, I’ve accepted it. I know what I am. The question is, Hannah… can you?”
Hannah glared up at him, her fists clenching as his words dug deeper. She wanted to shout, wanted to tell him he was wrong, but something in his eyes made the words stick in her throat. Louis knew. He knew exactly where she was headed, and it scared her to realize that maybe, just maybe, he was right.
Louis stood up, the gun hanging loosely in his grip. “Get up,” he said, voice cold and distant. “You don’t belong here, Hannah. Not in this world.”
He turned and stepped back into the darkness of the alley, leaving her lying there, with only the weight of his words for company.
YOU ARE READING
Icy Fire
RomanceLouis and Hannah are business rivals. Every day, their hatred for each other intensifies-until Hannah had enough. Before she knew it, the gun was in her hand and Louis in her mercy. Or that's what she believed. A twist of events occur, signifying th...
