The In Between

Chapter 8

Aaron loosened Kenji's restraints without a word, though he didn't simply let him walk away. He made it possible for Kenji to escape, and escape he did, but not without a hidden tracker Aaron had slipped into his shoes. Aaron hadn't revealed much about his plans, and now I find myself in a car beside him, against my will. I'd refused to come, but my protests were ignored. Aaron brought me here to hunt down the girl he cares about. We're heading somewhere unfamiliar to me; the landscape is alien—dead and drained of life. No trees, no greenery, just decaying houses and buildings cloaked in dust. Even the air feels heavy and impure, making it hard to breathe.

I don't recognize the path, but I know the destination: Adam's hideaway, the place he built for his brother James. And I know it will soon be destroyed. I feel the weight of that destruction pressing down on me, even though I know it's inevitable—it's how things are written. Still, I can't shake the feeling that I'm somehow responsible, and the guilt gnaws at me. I don't know why I feel all this when it's not even real. I'd promised myself I would enjoy this, not get bogged down by an imaginary boy losing his home.

"Is something bothering you?" Aaron's voice cuts through my thoughts, but I'm too preoccupied to look away from the dent in the glass window. I answer without turning.

"Nothing," I say, trying to sound normal, though my voice betrays my concern. I'd be a fool to think he didn't notice, but Aaron says nothing more. I give myself a moment to think about whether there's anything I can do for James.

If I remember correctly, James wasn't home when Kenji showed up injured at Adam's doorstep—he was at school. Only Adam and Juliette were there. It took them a while to tend to Kenji's wounds. But wait, was it the same day or the next when Aaron's men would come to destroy the place? I need to figure that out. I have to play along and help in whatever way I can. The problem is, my books are at home, and my home doesn't exist here nor the books. Kenji escaped today, and we're on our way to Adam's. That means today is the day.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't realize the car has stopped. Aaron stands at the car door, unlocking it. For a moment, I wonder if we've arrived at Adam's house, where the tragedy will unfold. But my curiosity fades quickly when I step out. This isn't Adam's house. It isn't anyone's house. We're standing on a road surrounded by nothing but dust-covered land stretching endlessly in both directions. It's not a desert, but it might as well be—a desolate, barren wasteland.

"Where are we?" I ask, taking in the lifeless landscape. Now I understand why they call this place the Reestablishment. Everything is so broken, so dried up that it needs to be rebuilt from the ground up. I wait for an answer, but none comes. Instead, I find myself staring into Aaron's emerald eyes, his blonde hair catching the fading light. His face is lined with worry.

"What?" I ask.

"You look troubled. What's wrong, Princess?" His voice is calm, concerned, and his gaze holds something I can't quite decipher.

"It's nothing," I lie, because I can't explain this to him—or anyone. I hate my mind for doing this to me. All my life, I've been weighed down by worries and obligations, and now, with my mental state in disarray, even my hallucinations bring me nothing but more anxiety. I hate being here, trapped in this worry for people who don't even exist. More than that, I hate the hopeless feeling of falling for a man who isn't mine, while I help him search for the woman he loves. His emerald eyes are always on me, and I know I'm deluding myself by falling for them, knowing full well they belong to someone else.

The day is coming to an end, the sky turning twilight shades as we stand together, each consumed by our own thoughts.

"Would you like to dance?" The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them, as though I've forgotten that this man could kill me in this hallucination, and no one would care. But since this is my imagination, I could be reborn again and live a different scenario if this one goes wrong. To my surprise, a smirk spreads across his lips, and he holds out his hand. I hesitate for a second, but then I take it. I'm determined to enjoy my time here.

"Turn up the music," Aaron orders the driver, who remains fixed in his seat like a statue, as though he doesn't exist at all. I don't mind—I hate social interactions anyway. The music fills the empty space, and Aaron pulls me into a graceful rhythm on the dusty ground.

"Is this your way of relieving stress or your way of flirting?" he asks, his voice filled with sinful amusement. His words make me laugh. The music continues as we sway together, our bodies moving to the beat.

"Either way, I'm comfortable with both," he says again, his voice dripping with mischief. His emerald eyes gleam with excitement as I meet his gaze.

"I've always liked balls," I admit, "but I never had the chance to attend one. The gowns, the high heels, the way two people cling to each other like their lives depend on it." I look down at my outfit—not a gown, and my heels aren't high—but this feels like a ball nonetheless.

"So, in simple terms, you want to cling to my body and linger on my soul," he says with a grin. Embarrassed, I try to pull away, but Aaron doesn't let me go. The beat of the music thumps in the background as he pulls me closer, so close that even the air seems suffocated between us.

"Do they have balls here?" I ask, trying to distract myself from the overwhelming closeness.

"No."

"What's your age, Princess?" he asks, loosening his grip slightly as he twirls me. He lifts me off my feet effortlessly, and I spread my arms wide like a doll twirling through her moment of freedom. He sets me down, spins me again, and suddenly I'm back facing those emerald eyes. My hand finds its way to his sharp jawline, but before I can fully process the gesture, he pulls me close again. The stars shine brightly overhead, and his eyes are locked on mine.

"Is this good?" he asks, raising an eyebrow as if testing my response. Before I can answer, he spins me again and pulls me back to him with more force this time.

"What's your age?" he repeats as we continue to move to the beat.

"Twenty-one," I reply, though my throat feels dry as I say it. Aaron bursts into laughter, dimples forming on his cheeks, and the sight is unexpectedly beautiful.

"What?" I ask, confused by his reaction.

"You really want me to believe you're twenty-one? If you'd told me that ten years ago, I might have believed you. But now you're telling me you were eleven back then?" He's laughing as if I've just made a ridiculous joke. The song ends, and so do we, standing still as he stares at me, waiting for an explanation. His expression shifts from amusement to something more serious.

"You're really twenty-one?" he asks again, his voice quieter this time. I nod, clearing his confusion.

"It may have been years for you, but it was just a day for me. I can't explain more, or why," I said, my words stumbling out. Each syllable sounded absurd, like nonsense. But I couldn't keep everything hidden. He's the only one I know in this world, and my mind has brought me here because it needs him, craves to lean on him. So, let it spew whatever nonsense it's created.

"You didn't make me wait, then," he said, a small grin tugging at his lips, his eyes gleaming with an excitement I didn't understand.

"What?" The word fell from my lips, shock surging through me. I know Aaron is obsessed, delusional even, about Juliette. But what? Is my mind playing tricks again? Has it created an Aaron who loves me instead of her? What the heck...