Twisted Devotion

Chapter Thirteen

The night air was cool, but he barely noticed it as he stood on the edge of the forest, watching them. Ava and her friend had run straight into the woods, just as he'd expected. It was almost laughable, how predictable fear made people. She was scared, and that was good—fear was necessary. It was part of the process. But what mattered most was getting her to remember.

He needed her to remember.

He moved through the trees silently, his footsteps barely making a sound on the leaf-strewn forest floor. Years of waiting, of planning, had led to this moment, and now Ava was so close. She had always been close, though she didn't know it. She had spent years building a life, a life far from the truth, far from him, what she had forgotten. And it was his responsibility to make her see it, to force her to confront it.

As he closed in, he could hear them—the rapid, panicked breathing, the rustle of their clothes as they crouched in the bushes, trying to disappear. He smiled to himself. They thought they could hide. They thought they could escape.

He paused just outside their hiding spot, listening. Ava's breathing was shaky, uneven, like she was trying to control the terror that was bubbling up inside her. She was always so good at pretending to be in control. She'd always been that way—calm, composed, the one who got away with everything.

But not anymore.

"Ava," he called out, letting his voice carry softly through the trees. He enjoyed the sound of her name on his tongue, knowing that hearing it would make her pulse race even faster. He imagined her crouching there, eyes wide, heart pounding in her chest. She was probably clinging to that friend of hers, that useless girl who had no idea what was really going on.

"You can't hide from me."

The silence stretched out in the darkness, but he could feel her tension, her fear. It was like a palpable energy in the air, and it fueled him, made him bolder. He moved a little closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate now, making just enough noise to let her know he was near.

He stopped, just outside the clearing where he knew they were hiding. For a moment, he let the silence linger, savoring it. He wanted her to know he was in control, that she was the one being hunted. He had waited so long for this, and he wouldn't rush it.

She didn't remember yet. Not fully. But he could see the cracks forming. Every word, every step he took brought her closer to that realization. It was inevitable.

He thought back to the time they had spent together all those years ago. How different things had been then. How different *she* had been. But people changed. Ava had changed. She had buried her past, locked it away, and tried to move on, as if everything that had happened was just a bad dream. But she hadn't erased it—not really. No one could.

He knew that better than anyone.

"You know who I am, Ava," he said, his voice quiet now, almost a whisper. "Somewhere, deep down, you know. You just don't want to admit it."

And that was the truth, wasn't it? She didn't want to face it. She didn't want to remember. But the truth was buried deep inside her, and it was clawing its way to the surface, no matter how hard she tried to keep it down.

The sound of a twig snapping pulled him from his thoughts, and his eyes locked onto the bushes ahead of him. There was movement, just a small shift, but it was enough.

"There you are."

He moved quickly, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. His hand shot out, gripping Ava's wrist before she could escape. She screamed, struggling against him, but it was useless. His grip was firm, unrelenting.

She stared at him, wide-eyed, and he watched the confusion and fear play out on her face. For a moment, he could see that she still didn't fully understand. But then, something shifted in her gaze. Recognition. It hit her like a lightning bolt, and he could see the moment she remembered.

Her whisper, so soft he almost didn't hear it, sent a thrill through him.

"No... it can't be you."

Her voice trembled, thick with disbelief and terror. And there it was—the moment he had waited for. She finally knew. She finally saw him for who he was, and not just some stranger hunting her in the dark. He could see the memories rushing back, the flood of emotions breaking through her defenses.

He smiled, a cold, satisfied smile, as he held her in place. "You remember now, don't you?"

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

Years of planning, years of waiting for this moment. He had always known she would have to confront the past sooner or later. And now, here they were. No more running. No more hiding. She was his to deal with, just as she had been all those years ago.

But this time, there would be no forgetting. This time, she wouldn't escape.