The hum of the truck had barely faded when Lydia heard the familiar roar again, growing louder in the distance. She frowned, her breath catching. She didn’t have time to process what it meant before Nolan’s truck came barreling back down the gravel path, kicking up dust and pebbles as it skidded to a stop in front of the cabin.
Lydia’s heart stuttered. What now? Had he changed his mind?
She barely had time to get her thoughts straight before the driver’s side door swung open and Nolan stepped out with purpose, his face set in an expression she hadn’t seen in a while—determination, threaded with something else, something darker, like desperation. He didn’t bother to shut the door behind him. Instead, he marched toward the porch with a kind of relentless energy, his boots thudding heavily against the wooden steps.
Lydia instinctively stepped back as he stormed inside, her body tense. “Nolan, what—”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish. He was already in front of her, his presence overwhelming, his voice low but firm. “We’re done arguing about this. You’re getting in the car.”
She blinked, thrown by his sudden change of tone. Her mind scrambled to catch up. “What are you—?”
“We’re not debating anymore,” Nolan cut in, his words hard and final. “Get your things. You’re coming with me.”
Lydia’s breath hitched, anger flaring in her chest. Who did he think he was? “You can’t just—”
“Yes, I can.” His voice softened just enough to make her pause, but there was no room for negotiation in his eyes. “I’ve tried to let you handle this your way. I’ve tried to give you space. But I’m done, Lydia. I’m not watching you stay here and hurt yourself anymore.”
She stared at him, her pulse racing as frustration welled up inside her. “I’m not hurting myself. I just need—”
“You need to stop acting like you’re fine when you’re not!” Nolan’s voice rose, but it wasn’t anger that drove it. It was something raw, something desperate. He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers. “You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t notice how you’re barely holding on?”
The words hit harder than she expected. Lydia felt her resolve waver, but she crossed her arms, standing her ground. “I’m handling it.”
“No, you’re not.” His hand shot out, grabbing hers—not forcefully, but with a certain firmness that sent a shiver through her. “You’re surviving. Barely. And I’m not going to let you keep doing it alone.”
She tried to pull back, but his grip held steady, his eyes boring into hers. “Nolan, this isn’t your choice to make. You can’t just swoop in and—”
“Yes, I can,” he repeated, his voice a mix of steel and pleading. “Because if I don’t, who will? Who’s going to be there when it all gets too heavy? You? You’ve been carrying this by yourself for too damn long, Lydia.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to push him away, to tell him he was wrong, that she didn’t need anyone’s help, but the look in his eyes made it impossible to deny the truth. He could see right through her, past the mask she’d been wearing, to the exhaustion and fear she was trying so hard to hide.
She swallowed, her voice weaker than she intended. “Nolan, I... I don’t need saving.”
“I’m not trying to save you,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its sharp edge. “I’m trying to help you. There’s a difference.”
Lydia’s chest tightened, her gaze dropping to the floor. She didn’t know how to respond. Everything she wanted to say felt hollow, like excuses she’d been telling herself for too long. Her mind screamed at her to keep fighting, to stay in control, but her body felt heavy, weighed down by the very thing she’d been pretending didn’t exist.
She pulled back, her eyes narrowing as the frustration from before surged up again. "No. We’ve talked about this—"
"No," Nolan interrupted, his voice low and controlled, but there was an edge to it, a finality that hadn’t been there before. "We haven’t talked. We’ve argued, we’ve fought, but I’m done with that. You’re coming with me. Now."
She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him she could handle it, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she stood there, staring at their intertwined hands, her throat tight.
Nolan took a deep breath, his tone softening even more, though his grip on her hand remained steady. “Look at me, Lydia.”
Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to meet his.
“I’m not asking anymore,” he said quietly, but there was no anger in his words, only an overwhelming sense of resolve. “You’re getting in that truck, and you’re coming with me. You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain. But you’re not staying here alone. Not anymore.”
Lydia’s chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her mind torn between wanting to scream at him for his audacity and wanting to collapse into his arms. She could feel the weight of his determination, the absolute certainty that he wasn’t going to leave without her.
Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing through every possible argument she could make—but none of them felt strong enough to break through the wall he’d put up. And deep down, a part of her—the part she’d been burying—knew he was right.
She was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pretending she was okay. Tired of pushing everyone away, especially him.
Nolan stepped back slightly, giving her space, but his eyes never left hers. “Lydia,” he said, softer now, almost pleading. “Please. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
For a moment, there was silence. Lydia’s hands trembled, her body frozen as her mind warred with itself. Then, slowly, she felt the resistance inside her give way, like a dam finally cracking under the pressure.
Without another word, she nodded, barely perceptible, but it was enough.
Nolan exhaled, a mix of relief and something else—something unspoken—as he gently pulled her toward the door. She didn’t resist this time, her legs moving on autopilot as they stepped outside, the cold air biting at her skin.
He opened the truck door for her, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Lydia didn’t argue. She climbed in, the leather seat cool beneath her, her body heavy with exhaustion but her mind strangely quiet.
Nolan slid into the driver’s seat beside her, the engine rumbling to life as he glanced over at her, his expression softer now. He didn’t say anything, didn’t push her for words she wasn’t ready to give. Instead, he reached over, his hand brushing hers for just a moment before he focused on the road ahead.
As the truck pulled away from the cabin, Lydia closed her eyes, her heart still pounding but the weight on her shoulders feeling just a little bit lighter.
YOU ARE READING
The Midnight Train
Детектив / ТриллерWhen Lydia West wakes up in a derelict building with no memory and only a cryptic letter for clues, her world turns upside down. The letter leads her to Nolan Cole, a vengeful man with a score to settle with Damon Hart, the ruthless head of a shadow...
