Hunted

Naomi

Chapter 15
Five years ago.

I can't find him anywhere. He's gone. Without a trace.

A sigh escapes my lips as I walk alongside Tina and Ariella, their laughter ringing in my ears like a distant echo. They're wrapped up in some inside joke, but I'm miles away, lost in a haze of confusion and worry.

Why did he defend me like that? Why did he vanish for two days? My mind churns with questions I can't answer.

I was supposed to hate him, to push him away, but the truth is, it's hard. Really hard.

My phone buzzes, jolting me from my thoughts. I pull it out and my heart races as I read the message on the screen.

UNKNOWN: You've grown up.

UNKNOWN: I was looking for you.

My breath catches in my throat, the blood rushing in my ears. I scan the area, searching for anyone watching, anyone lurking in the shadows.

"What?" Ariella calls out, her brow furrowing with concern as she notices my sudden stillness.

My eyes dart to her, panic creeping in. "I... nothing," I stammer, forcing myself to take another step forward. "I thought I saw something."

"You sure? You look like you've seen a ghost," Tina remarks, glancing sideways at me.

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog. "Just tired."

But my focus is on my phone, my fingers flying across the screen as I type.

ME: Who is this?

The minutes stretch on like hours, each second taunting me with uncertainty.

Finally, the response comes through.

UNKNOWN: Sweetie, it's me.

The world around me collapses. I feel the ground shift beneath my feet as I stagger, a wave of nausea crashing over me. I bolt for home, leaving the girls behind, their voices fading into the background.

I type while I run, desperation propelling me forward.

ME: Mom?

ME: Mom, is that you?

UNKNOWN: You look just like me, sweetheart.

Tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision as I desperately wish for the words to be real, for the voice to be hers.

ME: Where are you, Mom? Where have you been?

Just then, I collide with something hard. No, not just something—someone. I'm yanked into an alley, my back slamming against the unforgiving wall so suddenly that breath catches in my throat, and words die on my lips.

As my vision sharpens, I find myself staring into the beautiful, lethal face of Marcus. But this time, it's different. His expression isn't filled with the usual hostility; instead, it holds an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

He breathes harshly, wrapping his arms around my waist as if anchoring himself to me, his breath hot against my neck. Butterflies swarm in my stomach, a chaotic blend of fear and exhilaration that leaves me breathless.

"Marcus?" I manage to whisper, my heart racing like a wild animal. Calm down, heart. Just calm down.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly raw. Marcus never says sorry. Ever.
"They weren't supposed to be there."

My heart stutters, confusion and vulnerability crashing over me like waves. "So you didn't mean to humiliate me?" I ask, needing to grasp this moment, to understand what it means in the tumult of everything we've been through.